THE SPEECH OF MONKEYS
CHAPTER I.
Early Impressions--First Observations of Monkeys--First Efforts
to Learn their Speech--Barriers--The Phonograph Used--A Visit to
Jokes--My Efforts to Speak to Him--The Sound of Alarm inspires
Terror.
From childhood, I have believed that all kinds of animals have some mode
of speech by which they could talk among their own kind, and have often
wondered why man had never tried to learn it. I often wondered how it
occurred to man to whistle to a horse or dog instead of using some sound
more like their own; and even yet I am at a loss to know how such a
sound has ever become a fixed means of calling these animals. I was not
alone in my belief that all animals had some way to make known to others
some certain things; but to my mind the means had never been well
defined.
[Sidenote: FIRST OBSERVATIONS OF MONKEYS]
About eight years ago, in the Cincinnati Zoological Garden, I was deeply
impressed by the conduct of a number of monkeys occupying a cage with a
huge, savage mandril, which they seemed very much to fear and dislike.
By means of a wall, the cage was divided into two compartments, through
which was a small doorway, just large enough to allow the occupants of
the cage to pass from one room to the other. The inner compartment of
the cage was used for their winter quarters and sleeping apartments; the
outer, consisting simply of a well-constructed iron cage, was intended
for exercise and summer occupancy. Every movement of this mandril seemed
to be closely watched by the monkeys that were in a position to see him,
and instantly reported to the others in the adjoining compartment. I
watched them for hours, and felt assured that they had a form of speech
by means of which they communicated with each other. During the time I
remained, I discovered that a certain sound would invariably cause them
to act in a certain way, and, in the course of my visit, I discovered
that I could myself tell, by the sounds the monkeys would make, just
what the mandril was doing--that is, I could tell whether he was asleep
or whether he was moving about in his cage. Having interpreted one or
two of these sounds, I felt inspired with the belief that I could learn
them, and felt that the "key to the secret chamber" was within my grasp.
I regarded the task of learning the speech of a monkey as very much the
same as learning that of some strange race of mankind, more difficult in
t
|