228 THE STORY OF THE MONKEY. 



European museum. Our former President may, therefore, consider him- 

 self fortunate in having bagged one of these rare animals. In a not far dis- 

 tant future it, no doubt, will be too late, for the war of extermination has 

 been carried on even to the remotest mountain forests to satisfy the demand 

 for the fur of the colobus. An African traveler found hundreds of skins 

 ready for shipment to Europe by Greek and Indian traders, where they are 

 used as trimmings and linings of ladies' winter coats. A missionary told 

 him that he himself had hunted eighty animals within a month to sell their 

 fur, for which he received from one to two dollars apiece. While its fur 

 was "in fashion" hundreds of thousands of the animals were exported to 

 Europe to satisfy a passing fancy. Before the European invasion the na- 

 tives hunted the colobus only because its fur was used by their warriors to 

 adorn their ankles. 



Now, when Mr. Roosevelt is shipping both living and dead African 

 animals to the Smithsonian Institution and to zoological gardens in many 

 of our big cities, it may be of interest to our readers to know that it has not 

 always been possible to do so. 



In former years young colobus monkeys were captured to be raised and 

 sent to Europe, but none of the young animals reached their destination 

 alive, says the famous African traveler. "I therefore," he continues, "de- 

 cided to capture an adult colobus, and I succeeded in slightly wounding and 

 in capturing an adult animal. For some time I supplied the monkey with his 

 favorite food, fresh leaves and sprouts of the fugara. He refused any other 

 nourishment. At last I coaxed him into taking bananas. I selected the 

 strongest and most capable of my blacks to take care of the colobus on our 

 march to the coast. It was a comical sight to observe the tall black fellow 

 marching along, protecting with an improvised parasol his protege, who was 

 tied to him by a leather strap. Once in awhile they would have a 'falling 

 out.' The whole caravan then stopped and looked on, cheering and teasing 

 until the bearer and his charge had 'made up' again. My troubles with the 

 delicate creature were endless. It was not only hard to select suitable food 

 for the monkey, but he occasionally showed symptoms of fever, which I 

 counteracted by dosing him with quinine. At last I got him safely to the 

 coast and transported him to Berlin, where he lived two years in the zoological 

 gardens, before he fell a victim to the changed conditions of climate and 

 food, and, no doubt, also to homesickness for his native woods." He further 

 tells that on another occasion he brought with him three colobus monkeys 



