THE ORANG-OUTANG. 29 



This singular emotion is worthy of notice, because it proves the fallacy of judging 

 any animal to be the natural enemy of another, merely because the latter is terrified 

 at its approach. Granting that the apes might occasionally have been prompted by 

 their mischievous nature to meddle with the turtles, and to have been half-blinded 

 by a sand-shower thrown from the turtle's flippers, or have suffered a painful wound 

 from the snap of a turtle's sharp jaws, yet the little land-tortoise could not do damage. 

 As we have just mentioned, even the presence of a poor garden-snail is a terror to 

 many members of the monkey race. 



It is therefore evident that the antipathy does not exist only in some individuals 

 which may have suffered by the reptiles, but that it is the common propensity of these 

 strange animals. We can easily understand that an ape should display an agony of 

 terror at the sight of a leopard, or a snake, for the one has teeth and claws, being 

 also very fond of ape-flesh, and the other has fangs. But that the same animal should 

 be just as frightened when it sees a turtle, a tortoise, or a man bathing, is indeed 

 remarkable. 



Our best insight into the habits of animals is generally gained by watching the 

 actions of a single individual, and these biographies are usually found to be most 

 interesting. An admirable description has been given by Dr. Abel of the young Orang- 

 outang, which has been already mentioned. 



At first the ape was put into a cage, but he broke the bars and got out. Then he 

 was chained, but he detached the chain from the staple, and finding that the heavy 

 links incommoded him, he coiled the chain round his shoulder, and to prevent it from 

 slipping, held the end in his mouth. As he always succeeded in escaping from his 

 bonds, his keepers made a virtue of necessity, and permitted him to enjoy the full 

 range of the vessel. Among the ropes he was quite at home, and, trusting to his 

 superior activity, was accustomed to take liberties with the sailors, and then escape 

 among the ropes. One very curious trait in his character must be given in the words 

 of the narrator. 



"Although so gentle when not exceedingly irritated, the Orang-outang could be excited 

 to violent rage, which he expressed by opening his mouth, showing his teeth, and 

 seizing and biting those who were near him. 



" Sometimes, indeed, he seemed almost driven to desperation ; and on two or three 

 occasions committed an act which in a rational being would have been called the 

 threatening of suicide. If repeatedly refused an orange when he attempted to take 

 it, he would shriek violently and swing furiously about the ropes, then return and 

 endeavor to obtain it. If again refused, he would roll for some time like an angry 

 child upon the deck, uttering the most piercing screams ; and then, suddenly starting 

 up, rush furiously over the side of the ship and disappear. 



" On first witnessing this act, we thought that he had thrown himself into the sea ; 

 but on a search being made, found him concealed under the chains." 



He learned artificial tastes of civilization, and preferred tea and coffee to water. 

 Tastes less natural and more to be regretted soon followed, for he took to drinking 

 wine, and was so fond of spirituous liquids, that he was detected in stealing the 

 captain's brandy-bottle. This interesting animal survived the English climate for 

 about eighteen months, and then succumbed to the usual foe of the monkey 

 race. The fatal issue of the disease was probably promoted by the shedding of his 

 teeth. 



In its native woods, the Orang-outang seems to be an unsocial animal, delighting 

 not in those noisy conversaziones which rejoice the hearts of the gregarious monkeys 

 and deafen the ears of their neighbors. It does not even unite in little bands of 

 eight or ten as do many species, but leads a comparatively eremitical existence among 

 the trees, sitting in dreamy indolence on the platform which it weaves, and averse 

 to moving unless impelled by hunger, anger, or some motive equally powerful. When 

 it does move, it passes with much rapidity from tree to tree, or from one branch to 

 another by means of its long limbs, and launches itself through a considerable distance, 

 if the space between the branches be too great for its reach of arm. 



It has already been mentioned that the adult Orang is a sullen and ferocious animal 



