260 SPIDER-MONKEYS AND HOWLERS. 



walk in this position better than any of the other long-tailed 

 Monkeys, they are sometimes turned to account. Acosta, in his 

 " History of the West Indies," mentions a curious case of the 

 sort in one of these Monkeys which belonged to the Governor of 

 Carthagena. The Monkey in question was the Quata (Ateles 

 paniscus), and it had been so thoroughly domesticated that it 

 was regularly sent to the tavern for wine, the pot being put into 

 one hand and the money in the other ; and so well up to his 

 business was the Monkey, that the people at the tavern could 

 never get the money out of his hand until they had given him 

 his potful of wine. Nor was this the only piece of sagacity he 

 displayed on these errands. The children would sometimes 

 throw stones at him on his way home, when, says Acosta, " he 

 would set his pot down and cast stones against the children, till 

 he had assured his way, when he would return to carry home 

 his pot." But what is still more to his credit, " although he was 

 a good bibber of wine," he would never touch what he carried 

 till leave was given him. 



Next to the Spider Monkeys come the Howlers, whose contri- 

 butions to the nocturnal concerts of the American woods we have 

 noticed. These animals are distinguished by the robustness of 

 their build, the possession of a thumb, though not opposable, on 

 the fore-hand, and by a peculiar conformation and enlargement 

 of the bone of the tongue, which enables them to utter those loud 

 and discordant bowlings whence they derive their popular name. 

 These peculiar and, to the uninitiated traveller, appalling cries, 

 are not merely uttered at daybreak and evening and throughout 

 the night, but when a thunderstorm is approaching, or any 

 considerable changes are taking place in the electrical condition 

 of the atmosphere ; even at midday they may be heard resounding 

 through the woods. It is during the darkness of night, however, 

 that these dismal howlings strike with such terror on the ear 

 of the traveller, as they are then raised with an extraordinary 

 volume and intonation, so that, as Mr. Waterton remarks, "one 

 would suppose that half the wild beasts of the forest were col- 

 lecting for the work of carnage." The animals themselves are 

 gloomy and morose, and by no means active in their general 

 movements. They are prehensile-tailed, like the preceding group, 

 and when shot among the trees, often remain suspended long 

 after they are dead. The Howlers being more fleshy than the 



