294 FROM NORTH POLE TO EQUATOR. 



bers a molar more on each side of the jaws than in the higher apes, 

 thus there are thirty-six teeth instead of thirty-two; all the fingers 

 and toes have flat nails; the body seems more slender than it is, 

 because the limbs are very long; the tail is used, in many cases, as a 

 powerful grasping-organ. The one-sidedness of their development 

 is very characteristic. Exclusively arboreal like the marmosets, 

 they are awkward, even clumsy when away from the branches of 

 the trees. On the ground their gait is extremely ungainly, uncer- 

 tain, and tottering, particularly in those species which have a pre- 

 hensile tail, but even their climbing does not come at all near that 

 of the Old- World monkeys. For increase of the number of organs 

 of locomotion does not necessarily result in increased power, still 

 less in greater variety of movement; on the contrary, it often 

 means one-sidedness, and it certainly does so in the case of the New- 

 World monkeys. Their prehensile tail is not to them a fifth, but a 

 first hand, used in hanging or fixing the body, in lifting things or 

 dragging them along, and so on; but it does not make their move- 

 ments more rapid or free, it adds to safety but not to agility. 

 Thanks to the constant use of the tail, its owner never runs a risk 

 of falling from the lofty branches — safe because high — to the 

 dangerous ground beneath, but neither is he able to make any free 

 or daring movement. Slowly he sends his prehensile tail in advance 

 of every step, always catching hold with it first, and only then 

 letting go with hands or feet. Thus he binds himself to the branch 

 rather than climbs upon it, and never thinks of attempting a leap 

 whose success is in the least doubtful. In this constant careful- 

 ness for his own precious person the broad-nosed monkey impresses 

 one not so much with his prudence as with his slowness, and it 

 is noteworthy that the whole character of the New -World 

 monkeys bears this out. Their voice is not quite so monotonous 

 as that of the marmosets, but it is unpleasant; not to say tiresome. 

 It runs through many grades, from a whine to a roar, but it has, 

 invariably, a mournful character, and the whole demeanour of the 

 animal, when it cries, is pessimistic. After a cool, dewy night, the 

 morning sun shines warm and golden through the trees, and a 

 thousand-toned song of joy and greeting leaps forth in welcome 



