"WHO SAID MISSING LINK?" 



Unlike the gorilla, the chimpanzee is es- 

 sentially a tree-dweller; and it may be that 

 his more cheerful disposition is due to the 

 fact that he lives nearer to the sunlight than 

 his more ugly neighbor; and, being ar- 

 boreal, is of more active habit. Perhaps 

 the sullen temper of the gorilla is due to 

 the fact that nature put him on the ground 

 instead of in the trees; and the dark and 

 gloomy tangle of vines, tree-trunks, spur 

 roots and rank undergrowth of equatorial 

 Africa is quite enough to make any animal 

 gloomy and sullen in disposition. What is 

 more natural than that a black denizen of 

 the dark continent should look on the dark 

 side of things, hate his keeper, hate his 

 food, and even hate himself. 



Several captive chimpanzees have made 

 themselves quite famous. In this country, 

 " Mr. Crowley " was for about 6 years the 

 chief attraction of the New York Men- 

 agerie. A well-disposed young female, 

 named Kitty, was procured and offered to 

 Crowley — in an adjoining cage — as a law- 

 ful spouse. But it proved an ante-nuptial 

 mesalliance. The sight of the gentle and 

 virtuous " soko " maiden — or, for that mat- 

 ter, any other live animal, except man — al- 

 ways threw Crowley into a fit of jealous 

 rage; and had he ever succeeded in break- 

 ing a hole in the partition that separated 

 them, it is probable that poor Kitty 

 would have been killed within 3 minutes. 

 With his keeper, however, Crowley was al- 

 ways on good terms. He would take his 

 meals at a table, sitting in his high chair. 

 He ate with knife, fork and spoon, he drank 

 out of a cup, he used a napkin very prop- 

 erly, and took his dose of cod-liver oil out 

 of a spoon, with genuine relish. But there 



"WHERE'S MY EVENING PAPER?" 



were times when he had " tantrums," and 

 became a particularly mischievous and 

 dangerous wild beast. 



The successor of Crowley was a much 

 larger and more powerful chimpanzee, of 

 Portuguese extraction, named " Chiko." 

 When I was told that in a fit of rage Chiko 

 •had, with his naked hands, broken a half- 

 inch iron bar out of the side of his cage, I 

 could not believe it until his keeper actually 

 showed me the bar. I have seen scores of 

 anthropoid apes in captivity, and Chiko was 

 the second one of whom I ever felt really 

 afraid. . He was a powerful, active, ugly and 

 thoroughly vicious brute — ever ready to 

 thrust a long, hairy arm out between the 

 bars of his cage, make a grab at a visitor 

 and try to do him an injury. His keeper 

 controlled him solely by the mastery of 

 brute force, by making him feel afraid to 

 molest him. On one occasion, Chiko at- 

 tacked him, and for several minutes the 

 man and the beast struggled and fought all 

 over the cage. At last an assistant became 

 convinced that the keeper was getting the 

 worst of it, and offered help. But the 

 plucky keeper declined it — on the ground 

 that if he accepted help, his supremacy over 

 Chiko would be at an end. He fought the 

 ape to a finish, and hammered him into 

 submission, at least for a time. But Chiko 

 determined to have revenge, and not long 

 afterward he secured it. Once when the 

 keeper was passing close to the cage, on the 

 outside, Chiko suddenly reached out, 



