Meshie is now (July 1933) four and one-half years old and weighs forty-six and one-half pounds. She still retains in good condition all her baby or deciduous teeth and, in addition, has her first permanent molars. The latter began to erupt when she was three years old, and all four were in place when she was three and one-half years. These first permanent molars correspond to the teeth often called six-year molars in human children. In general appearance Meshie has not changed very much in the last two years, though she has undoubtedly lost some of her baby looks and habits. When she was younger, she wanted to be picked up and held much of the time. Now, although she likes to embrace her human acquaintances occasionally, she is more independent and wants to walk and run about seeing things for herself, tirelessly investigating whatever she sees but easily tiring of any particular object. She walks with more poise and more assurance.
In her mental development Meshie has changed more than in her appearance. She has learned many new things and can now keep an audience entertained for an hour or more, demonstrating to them how easy it is for a chimpanzee to acquire human accomplishments. One of these is her ability to free herself from almost any bonds or confinement imposed upon her. She was never caged nor chained until we left Africa and began our long journey home. At first I fastened her with pieces of cord and rattan, but they were unsatisfactory, for she would get them tangled and then break loose by alternately pulling and biting the cord. Later, when I reached the coast, I procured a dog chain. This was better, but it was not long before Meshie discovered that it, too, could be broken if she pulled hard enough. This was especially easy if the links were tangled. She found many ways of gaining her freedom other than actually breaking the chain; for instance, there was always some sort of collar on her neck, at first merely a bit of rope with several knots in it. She discovered that she could always get the knots undone if she picked and pulled at them first with her fingers, and then, as they loosened, used her teeth also. Leather dog collars were easily disposed of, for, if she found she could not undo the buckle, she pulled it to one side, wet the leather with her tongue until it stretched and broke, or could be slipped off over her head, or became long enough for her to get it into her mouth and bite it. Each time I left her tethered I wondered what new means she would find of freeing herself.
Long ago, when she was quite small, she took a fancy to untying shoe laces and later she learned to take off the shoe. Now, after removing one shoe, she holds it in her groin while she removes the other, then puts them on her own feet and walks about, much to the delight of her audience.
According to tests an adult female chimpanzee is approximately three and one-half times as strong as a college athlete. Meshie, about one-third grown, is about as strong as a grown man, though to see her slender arms and gentle ways one would be apt to underestimate her strength. My friends sometimes ask what Meshie would do if she got loose when I were not there. There were three such occasions last year. The first time she freed herself by breaking her chain, the second by packing her padlock full of sand and opening it, and the third time by a still more ingenious method. The first time she had been gone for about ten or fifteen minutes before her absence was discovered. She had climbed into some near-by wild cherry trees, where she spent her time in eating the fruit and young leaves. When Mrs. Raven discovered her, she had been free long enough to begin to feel a little uneasy, and when she was called, she came very willingly and allowed herself to be chained.
The third occasion on which Meshie gained her freedom was a more complex and melodramatic affair. During the winter she was confined in a large cage in the basement. This cage was of wood and like a small room; it had been carefully constructed so that it offered very little opportunity for pulling apart from within. It was near a window and afforded her an opportunity to watch whatever was going on outside. I soon discovered that the cage had to be braced in every direction, for Meshie liked to climb up on the side and shake it with all her might, both for exercise and to hear it rattle. It was four feet square inside and had a hoop fastened to the ceiling by a swivel, so that she could swing or rock on it or spin around, just as she pleased. That she might be kept perfectly clean, the floor of the cage was not solid but made of slats like the sides, so that no dirt or moisture remained on the floor. Sitting on the slats was just as comfortable as sitting on the branches of trees in her native tropical forest. Beneath this floor of slats was a funnel draining into a pan that could easily be kept clean. At night a blanket was given to Meshie to sleep on and, if the weather was cold, she completely covered herself with it. In the morning she pushed it out between the slats of her cage. Hay or straw was never given to her, as is so often the custom in zoological gardens, for chimpanzees in the wild live in comparatively dust-free tropical forests and the dust of the hay is not good for them.
One day I received an anxious telephone message from Mrs. Raven, telling me that Meshie had been out of her cage for some time and that I had better come home. I asked, Why did you not telephone immediately? She replied that before Meshie had made her exit from the cage she had been flipping the burlap about and had caught the telephone wire on it and pulled out about six feet of the wire. It had been necessary for Mrs. Raven to repair the wire before any telephoning could be done. She was alone in the house at the time and she locked the doors to prevent anyone from coming in or Meshie from going out. Meshie signified her pleasure at being free by embracing Mrs. Raven and saying Uh-uh-uh! repeatedly. Before coming upstairs she had had a look about the basement, playing for some time in the coal bin. After greeting Mrs. Raven, she went upstairs to the bathroom, and the coal dust in combination with a little water made black tracks all over the floor. From the bathroom she went into my little daughters bedroom, leaving black tracks everywhere as she jumped up and down on the bed.
When I arrived on the scene and asked sternly, What have you done? she pouted, her lips stuck far out, and she put out her arms to embrace me; when I refused to take her and continued to scold, she screamed as if she were being terribly abused. After the excitement had quieted down and order had been restored to the household, I asked how Meshie had broken out of her cage in the beginning. I found that she had done it by lying in her hoop, swinging and kicking the roof of the cage until she succeeded in raising one of the boards high enough for her to crawl through the opening made.
Thus far, I had always stood directly before her. When I stood somewhat to one side, she pedalled right past me, for her hands on the handle-bars remained passive. When she passed in this manner she grew very much excited, stuck out her lips, and talked at a great rate. Then I pushed her arm to turn the machine. A few more lessons and she had learned to steer. When she ran into the wall or a chair, she reached out with her foot and pushed herself away, turned the handles, and went forward again, repeating this until she cleared the obstacle. Soon she learned that when the machine was in a corner or between objects where she could not turn it, or when the wheels were caught on the edge of a rug, she must dismount and pull it free. It was very comical to see her quickly dismount, impatiently jerk her kiddie-car clear of the obstacle, then mount and hurry on.
Frequently during the past two years Meshie has been a visitor at the American Museum of Natural History. I drive in from the country with Meshie sitting beside me on the front seat of the automobile and at such times her behavior is just about perfect. She is keenly interested in the scenery and all that goes on along the way. When we stop at traffic lights, people in near-by cars often speak to her or laugh at her. Depending upon how she feels at the time, she ignores them or reaches out her hand in greeting. On several occasions when she has been spoken to by strangers, I have seen her reach for the handle and wind the window shut, or if it were shut, open it; in either case greatly amusing those watching her. Most of them seem to think it remarkable to see a chimpanzee entirely free, riding in a car like a human being. When Meshie comes to the Museum I always bring her kiddie-car and she mounts it as soon as she leaves the automobile. Sometimes she rides through the long passageways in the basement. There the floor is of cement, but in some places where pipes cross beneath the passage they are covered by an iron plate. Although the iron is on the same level as the rest of the floor, Meshie stops, dismounts, and lifts her car over it. She seems to feel that this is necessary; why, I do not know. It may have been because sometimes the iron plates were hot. Another peculiarity like this was noticed when she was riding through one of the halls in the Museum where the floor was tiled in red with a border of black. When Meshie reached the black border at the end of the hall, she dismounted and lifted her car over, just as she did when she came to the iron plates in the basement. When entering or leaving the elevator, she usually dismounts and carries her car in the same manner and often stops to peep down the crack between the elevator and the floor.
Meshie frequently has luncheon with me in the Museum restaurant. She knows her way as soon as she leaves the elevator, driving her kiddie-car more rapidly as she approaches the room and begins to anticipate her luncheon. As she enters the restaurant she turns to me and says, Mm-mm-mm! If she is very hungry and becomes excited by the people, the clatter of dishes, and the smell of food, she gives shouts or screams of joy such as only a chimpanzee can give and loud enough to be heard in the open for half a mile or more. These screams always delight her human friends and seldom fail to startle those who hear them for the first time. After that, she proceeds to the curators table, unless I designate some other, climbs up into the high-chair ready for her, and places the folding tray in position. It hangs at the back of the chair and Meshie raises it up over her head and brings it down before her. Then she wants her dinner at once. She looks around for the waitress, puts her hand out toward her, and when she sees her dinner coming, rocks her body gently from side to side, saying Uh-uh-uh! When the food is before her, she picks up a spoon or a fork and begins to eat, not attempting to use her fingers as she used to do. If she happens to pick up the spoon with her left hand she soon transfers it to her right, not directly but by leaving it in her mouth, letting go with the left hand and then taking hold of it with her right hand.
Not long ago Meshie had the honor of being a guest of President F. Trubee Davison of the American Museum of Natural History at a formal banquet at the Waldorf-Astoria. What could be stranger, more unlike her former home in the African forest, than the ride across Manhattan in a taxicab, the brightly lighted hotel with gaily-dressed people everywhere, the brass band and negro minstrels! But she rode her kiddie-car through the foyer, into the banquet hall crowded with strangers, and took her place at the table with the rest of the guests. She politely ate some of each course as the dinner was served, sat quietly while the speeches were made, blinked while the Press photographers took more than a dozen flash-light photographs of her, and did not get home to bed until long after midnight. Not many chimpanzees have had such experiences. Not many children would have behaved as well.
|