The Missing Link and Other Tales of Ape-Men

by Georges T. Dodds

  I then filled it half-way, brought it up to my mouth, and left the rest to my small friend, who appeared to savor it with even greater sensuality than the first time. Then, still constant in her imitations, she went and rinsed off the glass and returned it to the same spot, hoping I would fill it again, which I did not do, hoping to spare her.

  Indeed, the wine, however mild, had affected her senses. My Jocko’s eyes were more animated, she was more expansive, more confident, and familiar to the point of drawing sufficiently near to me to touch the edge of my clothes with the tips of her fingers. I could easily have caught her, but refrained from doing so. I neither wished to distress her, nor force her back to her former mistrust.

  In the days that followed, my Calcavallo wine, my Xerez wine, of which I poured her, at my discretion, small doses, always seemed to afford her the same pleasures. Finally, I decided to bring her some of the island’s excellent liquor, of which I had an ample supply. Having allowed her to ingest somewhat more of my snacks than usual, I placed before her a small glass of crème de Créole. At first she seemed surprised and worried, but soon her enjoyment took the upper hand, and she stuck out her two little hands while dancing around me. It was her way of asking for something. I placed a second glass before her, but only half full, for I feared compromising the darling creature’s health. Little Jocko avidly took hold of it, but only drank the liquor little by little and in moderate doses. She seemingly delighted in savoring it. A semi-drunken state followed which was made manifest in her eyes: her fears and hesitations vanished, she threw herself at me and rested her little head on my shoulder, rolling it as she snuggled against my chest. I continued my walk and she followed me, stamping her feet. From time to time I gave her small pieces of cake, which she ate without even looking at them. There was no longer any mistrust between us. I took her right arm, slipped it under my left arm and so continued walking for almost a quarter of a mile.47 Sometimes she ran off to chase butterflies,48 sometimes she walked beside me and matched her paces to mine with an admirable accuracy.

  As her arms, while not completely disproportionate, were a bit longer than those of a human being, I decided to take her two hands and cross them in front of her. I don’t know what she thought of it, but was affrighted, moved a few steps away from me, and took on a sulky air. I then remembered what I had read in a number of traveler’s accounts, and that I myself had observed on different occasions, regarding the natural modesty of the females of this species.49 This along with retracing in my mind a number of incidents of ancient history led me to shudder in horror. However, glancing over to my little Jocko, I smiled at my indignation, and was tempted to credit as fabulous or to ascribe to the vagaries of Art certain Greek and even Roman depictions which I had seen in Italy, particularly in Portici, as well as on several ancient medals.

  I drew her back by gesture and voice and presented her with a small piece of cake. She came back without showing any sign of satisfaction, and walked some ways in the same direction with me, but at some distance away.

  We each had to go our own way. I amused myself by tipping my hat and bowing deeply to her. At first she seemed rather perplexed, but she soon decided what to do: she tore off several banana leaves and in no time skillfully fashioned herself a kind of hat, placed it on her head and in turn bowed and tipped her hat to me in the most profound manner, made all the more comical by her seriousness. Then we each went our own way, though not without, on a number of occasions, turning to look at each other.

  The next day she came to me adorned with a hood of woven leaves, more artistically assembled than on the previous day. In her hand she held a staff bearing a few leaves similar to thyrsus.50 I saw in this attitude a half innocent, half wild demeanor which drew a smile from me. She had brought me several lovely coconuts. We ate of their flesh and drank their milk. I had given her pieces of biscuit, a bit of good wine; we were the best of friends, when something happened which led to our falling out. I will describe it briefly.

  With no particular design in mind, I had equipped myself with a small mirror. I drew it from my pocket and suddenly showed it to her. At that very instant, surprise, fear and a terrible jealously was expressed in her features.51 In a fit of rage she threw herself upon the figure, intent on tearing it limb from limb. Unable to take hold of anything, she turned about or rather she ran behind the mirror, came back in front, stretched an arm out on the opposite side, ran behind again, repeating this tiresome maneuver over 20 times. Now, let no one dare tell me that animals are incapable of abstract thought!...Wise Locke, what have you to say to that?52

  Finally, breathless, agitated and trembling, she ran towards me, rolling her pretty little head frenetically against my chest, wrapping her arms around me and squeezing me with all her might, as if to draw me from the object of her worries and terror. I put the fatal mirror back in my pocket and caressed her, giving her a few of the snacks with which I was amply supplied. I let her drink a bit of liquor, and we had soon made up. But she gazed upon me with an extraordinary expression; one would have thought she wished to speak to me. That night she could not leave me. Even though I indicated she should leave, and even pushed her aside with my hand, she held onto my clothes, moved off a couple of feet only to return constantly to my side. Having reached the last trees in the forest, she stopped suddenly, raised her arm towards the setting sun,53 nodded her head sadly, crying out so painfully yet so tenderly that I could not but be touched. I must admit that this action, which had something solemn to it, greatly surprised me and got me to thinking. At that moment I recalled that a few Nature observers had suggested, without however spelling it out precisely, that they were not far from believing that individuals of this race had, in their own way, a concept, however vague, of a Supreme Being. That intellectual capacity of beasts which has been commonly termed animal instinct, has yet to be fully quantified or appreciated. O philosophy! what unknown regions have you yet to explore!

  Unfortunately the next day circumstances which I cannot describe as anything other than terribly annoying kept me from our regular rendezvous. Various important affairs kept me at home without a single moment of leisure. I did not see my little friend again until the day after. Alas! I did not find her where we normally met. I called out to her, but in vain. I was extremely worried. I proceeded forward. “Jocko! Jocko!” I cried out, “where are you?” I clapped my hands together. Finally I found her stretched out on the ground at the same spot where I had shown her the mirror; she was almost motionless. The dear little creature opened her eyes and shuddered upon seeing me. I made her swallow a few drops of cordial I had with me. Her breathing seemed difficult, congested; her entire frame was extremely weak. I gave her something to eat; she had trouble swallowing it. When she was somewhat recovered, it became clear from the avidity with which she took the food I offered her, that the poor creature had not eaten anything for at least 24 hours.

  When her hunger was appeased and we had drunk the milk of several coconuts, we renewed our customary walk: I have mentioned how she would walk beside me. All of a sudden she stopped short, fell at my feet, kissed them and wrapped her arms around my legs. It was difficult to disengage her. I finally managed to get her on her feet again; she was shaking like a leaf. I had her sit down, wishing to have her eat. I presented her with marzipans which she greatly relished, but she returned them to me sadly, and when night began to fall, she herself took the path back to the forest outlet. All the way she seemed pensive and preoccupied. At last, she left me with such an expressive look, that I could not help but be worried about her to some extent.

  I returned the next day at the accustomed hour, and again I could not find her. I called her and sat down to wait for her. Half an hour later I saw her running up to me with her usual lightheartedness. She was out of breath. I presented her with a biscuit and a bit of wine in a glass. She refused the biscuit, but fell upon the wine, finishing it in a single gulp. Taking hold of my hand she tried to draw me along with her into the thickest par
t of the forest. I must admit that I hesitated somewhat in following her, fearing to find myself amongst too great a number of her species to be able to defend myself. I knew that the males, quite dangerous towards women, were entirely vicious towards men.54 However, after having considered things briefly, I fought back this involuntary urge for timidity, considering it no less than pusillanimity on my part. Laughing, I followed her. She was excited and seemed impatient, which I could not understand. We proceeded close to a third of a mile through the brush, not without a great deal of difficulty on my part.

  I could not avoid being surprised when I made out, among an elegant grouping of coconut trees, a pretty almost completed hut roofed with leaves.55 However, I soon remembered that the existence of such rustic constructions had been witnessed by a number of famous travelers and by our best naturalists. My little Jocko was not at ease; she jumped about, clapped her hands, and uttered that delightful fine, silvery cry. A pall of sadness spread over her features, for she soon realized that I could not get in her hut without bending over awkwardly. She had made the door in proportion to her small stature and not to mine, her foresight not extending that far. She was taken with a kind of rage; she threw herself on the transverse beam which determined the height of the entrance, turned everything over, then took me off a few paces and having loaded me with a few branches she had stocked up, took an armful herself and signaled me to follow her. I obeyed, and the one-time pretender to the throne of Nature became a female pongo’s laborer.

  She immediately began remodeling the hut’s entrance. It only took her a quick glance to render it proportionate to my stature. I helped her in all good faith, and the work was soon done. I found two long benches of moss arranged like beds,56 and in one corner an ample supply of coconuts. The dear little creature, tired out, threw herself on one of these sites of repose. She seemed to invite me to follow her example by pointing out to me the one in front of her.

  She watched me with a rather satisfied expression, she was quite proud to see me enjoy the fruit of her work. A few moments later I got up, went to pick some banana leaves, laying them out on the moss so that it would not stick to my clothes or to the limbs of my small frame. She seemed enchanted to see that I had thus improved upon her handiwork, and on 20 different occasions she jumped with great agility from one mossy bed to the other.

  Having unhesitatingly indulged herself in these excesses of gaiety, her appetite returned; she sat on her bed and extended her two little arms towards me, shaking them with her usual grace. Along with nice tender biscuits, I gave her bread and hard-boiled eggs, items she had not eaten before; she devoured them. The dear little creature must have spent all night and a better part of the day working. We drank some Madeira wine; I had taught her, for my own amusement, how to clink her glass against mine.57 Then we had a truly delightful meal together.

  We had to leave each other. I cannot depict to you how surprised and hurt Jocko was,58 her anguish was at its peak. At first she appeared thunderstruck, rooted to the spot, then leaning towards me for an instant, though making no attempt to hold me back. However, when I left the hut she cried out so plaintively that I couldn’t help but retrace my steps. I made every attempt to make her understand that I would return on the morrow. I don’t know if she understood, but I could tell that in her little head she was convinced that we should never part. To this end she had built a hut, stocked it with fruit and coconuts, had set up a proper household in her own manner.

  I found all this interesting if not surprising. I knew that members of the jocko and pongo races frequently built huts, that they most often lived two by two,59 that the female was somewhat shy, and that they held in common with the human race the practice of kisses to the forehead or cheeks, when they met.60 Accustomed to living in communities, or at least in family groups,61 they knew how to use fire, knew full well how to light it, but did not know how to maintain it.62

  The next day I arranged to arrive earlier. I found it difficult to find her hut again. My little Jocko was stretched out on her bed. She gave a start upon seeing me, and gave me her usual delicate cry. I had brought along with me a saw, a hammer, some nails, a little case which was held closed by hooks and bore various utensils; two cups, two drinking glasses, a few plates, a coffeepot, a flint and some tinder.

  Seeking to put to the test the instincts and adaptability of these animals and finally confirm those singular facts I had read of in travelers’ accounts and in writings on Natural History, but which I doubted to some degree, I gave all these treasures to my little friend; she was ecstatic, her eyes beamed with happiness.

  Bringing new furniture to Jocko’s pretty hut on a daily basis was a pleasure: a jug to draw water, some small tables, folding chairs, a small chest of drawers, which, not wishing to let anyone in on my secret, I carried piece by piece and reassembled as best I could afterwards.

  One afternoon, intending to light a fire, I took it upon myself to teach her how to operate the flint, and could not help but laugh at her awkwardness: she would strike her fingers and was afraid of the sparks which sprang from the stone. I took it from her, and in one stroke lit the tinder. At the same time I used a sulphur-match to light a candle. Jocko was dumbfounded. She watched this spectacle, new to her with a mixture of admiration and fear, which brought an indescribable liveliness to her already expressive features.

  I had prepared, at some distance from the hut, a sufficiently wide perimeter to set up a fire place. She did not appear surprised, but what she apparently did know, as I mentioned before, was how to feed and maintain the blaze, by throwing more wood on it or by carefully fanning it. I had brought fire tongs and a shovel. I taught her how to use them, and I must admit she had a remarkable capacity to understand and imitate what I did. I did however have to repeat my lessons on several occasions.

  I sent her to draw some water,63 filled the coffee pot and a small cooking pot, and I amused myself by teaching her to make coffee, then tea in a Delft-ware teapot, which was part of Jocko’s household effects. She found the tea and coffee much to her liking, particularly when I put lots of sugar in it. Using some small wooden spoons 64 with which I had equipped myself, she would stir it in such a pleasant manner, that I could not help but smile. Finally, she managed to cook some fresh eggs and to cut some sippets with a little box tree handled knife I had given her. However, I had a hard time teaching her the correct quantity of coffee so as to make a brew that was neither too strong nor too weak.

  I had however managed to teach her to set a table in front of the hut, to cover it with large banana leaves,65 to place two seats opposite one another, to fill her little centerpiece with fresh leaves and flowers, to place her plate correctly across from mine, to arrange in a symmetrical pattern on little varnished-wood plates the fruit or dry preserves and little cakes I brought her from the city. She was so skilled and intelligent that she could prepare toast and jam and cut sippets as easily as any woman in Lisbon or London might have. Sitting across from one another at a small table, we would share small meals together almost every day. She would serve me with the greatest care, attention and a zeal which never slackened. The dear little creature always gave me what she deemed to be the best,66 and the best in her opinion was the largest fruit, the biggest piece of cake, keeping for herself only the poorest, those of lesser value.

  With continued attentions I managed to teach her how to smoothly open a bottle with a corkscrew, to clean the glasses properly, and to mix some water with her wine. She also well knew that the liquors were to be poured in lesser quantities than ordinary wine. Indeed these little banquets had an elegance which might have surprised some, had they known that they had been laid out by a young animal which until recently had received no lessons but those of Nature.

  As her nakedness bothered me, I liked to drape her with brightly colored shawls,67 which I had obtained for her use, and which she would later put away in her chest of drawers. I almost always read or meditated upon things while eating the fruit and eggs she
had prepared for me. As my little Jocko felt it her duty to mimic me in everything, she would pick up a book,68 which, naturally she more often than not held upside down, which was all the same to her. When I turned a page, she would do so in turn; she would insert the bookmark when I would, close and place the book on the table. At the first sign of clearing the table, she would remove everything, wash the plates and cups thoroughly, then return every item to its proper shelf in her little hut without breaking anything. Even though these simple yet amusing events were repeated every day, I never tired of them. As soon as my business in the city was done, I went off to be close to my dear little Jocko; there I would read and write as though I was alone. It was rare for me not to find something to eat waiting for me.

  She did not touch any of the provisions I left in her hut until I formally turned them over to her by placing them before her. Besides, she was quite clear as to what belonged properly to her amongst the things we held in common. She had her own small clothing accessories, some jeweled glass rings, little boxes, shawls with which I was pleased to dress her in when I was about, and colored scarves with which I adorned her little head in the manner of the Creoles, and drop earrings. I remember that she cried out frequently and fidgeted a great deal before allowing her ears to be pierced. She put up a struggle and tried to escape; I had to get angry in order to subdue her.

  As soon as I left she would undress, and would only resume wearing them when she expected or rather anticipated my arrival. I had brought her one of those wooden clocks termed cuckoo clocks, which are made in the Black Forest, hoping to get her used to counting the hours and knowing the time, but I was never able to manage it. I had however been assured that a number of members of different orang species had managed to count up to five.