Jock Of The Bushveld by Sir Percy Fitzpatrick (Chapter 21)( Page 2 ) Monkeys And Wildebeeste

The day he caught the monkey he was well pleased, and may possibly have told the truth. Baboons and monkeys, he said, can count just like men, but they can only count two!  If one man goes into a mealie field and waits for them with a gun, their sentry will see him, and he may wait for ever; if two go and one remains, it is useless, for they realise that only one has come out where two went in; but if three go in, one may remain behind to lie in wait for them, for the monkeys, seeing more than one return, will invade the mealie field as soon as the two are safely out of the way.  That was only Jantje's explanation of the well-known fact  that monkeys and baboons know the difference between one and more than one. But, as Jantje explained, their cleverness helped him to catch them.  He went alone and came away alone, leaving his trap behind, knowing that they were watching his every movement, but knowing also that their intense curiosity would draw them to it the moment it seemed safe.  The trap he used was an old calabash or gourd with a round hole in it about an inch in diameter; and a few pumpkin seeds and mealies and a hard crust of bread, just small enough to get into the calabash, formed the bait. After fastening the gourd by a cord to a small stump, he left it lying on its side on the ground where he had been sitting.  A few crumbs and seeds were dropped near it and the rest placed in the gourd, with one or two showing in the mouth.  Then he walked off on the side where he would be longest in view, and when well out of sight sped round in a circuit to a previously selected spot where he could get close up again and watch. The foremost monkey was already on the ground when he got back and others were hanging from low branches or clinging to the stems, ready to drop or retreat.  Then began the grunts and careful timid approaches, such as one sees in a party of children hunting for the hidden `ghost' who is expected to appear suddenly and chase them; next, the chattering garrulous warnings and protests from the timid ones--the females--in the uppe branches; the sudden start and scurry of one of the youngsters; and the scare communicated to all, making even the leader jump back a pace; then his angry grunt and loud scolding of the frightened ones-- angry because they had given him a fright, and loud because he was reassuring himself. After a pause they began the careful roundabout approach and the squatting and waiting, making pretences of not being particularly interested, while their quick eyes watched everything; then the deft picking up of one thing--instantly dropped again, as one picks up a roasted chestnut and drops it in the same movement, in case it should be hot; and finally the greedy scramble and chatter. I have seen all that, but not, alas, the successful ending, when trying to imitate Jantje's methods.  Jantje waited until the tugs at the gourd became serious, and then, knowing that the smaller things had been taken out or shaken out and eaten and that some enterprising monkey had put its arm into the hole and grabbed the crust, he ran out. A monkey rarely lets go any food it has grabbed, and when, as in this case, the hand is jammed in a narrow neck, the letting go cannot easily be done instinctively or inadvertently; the act requires a deliberate effort.  So Jantje caught his monkey, and flinging his ragged coat over the captive sat down to make it safe.  By pushing the monkey's arm deeper into the gourd the crust became released and the hand freed; he  then gradually shifted the monkey about until he got the head into the shoulders of the loose old coat, and thence into the sleeve; and worked away at this until he had the creature as helpless as a mummy with the head appearing at the cuff-opening and the body jammed in the sleeve like a bulging overstuffed sausage.  The monkey struggled, screamed, chattered, made faces, and cried like a child; but Jantje gripping it between his knees worked away unmoved. He next took the cord from the calabash and tied one end securely round the monkey's neck, to the shrinking horror of that individual, and the other end to a stout bush stick about seven or eight feet long; and then slipped monkey cord and stick back through the sleeve and had his captive safe; the cord prevented it from getting away, and the stick from getting too close and biting him.  When they sat opposite and pulled faces at each other the family likeness was surprising.