Whether the kulu-kamba is a distinct species of ape, or only a well-marked variety of the chimpanzee, he is by far the finest representative of his genus. Among those that I have seen are some very good specimens, and the clever things that I have witnessed them do are sufficient to stamp them as the highest type of all apes.

On board a small river steamer that plies the Ogowe, was a young female kulu that belonged to the captain. Her face was not by any means handsome, and her complexion was the darkest of any kulu I have ever seen. It was almost a coffee-colour. There were two or three spots much darker in shade, but not well defined in outline. The dark spots looked as if they had been artificially put on the face. The colour was not solid, but looked as if dry burnt umber had been rubbed or sprinkled over a surface of lighter brown. Although she was young (perhaps not more than two years old), her face looked almost like that of a woman of forty. Her short, flat nose, big, flexible lips, protruding jaws and prominent arches over the eyes, with a low receding forehead, conspired to make her look like a certain type of human being one frequently sees. This gave her what is known as a dish-face, or a concave profile. She had a habit of compressing her nose by contracting the muscles of the face; curling her lips as if in scorn, and at the same time glancing at those around her as if to express the most profound contempt.

Whatever may have been the sentiment in her mind, her face was a picture of disdain, and the circumstances under which she made use of these grimaces, certainly pointed to the fact that she felt just like she looked. At other times her visage would be covered with a perfect smile. It was something more than a grin, and the fact that it was used only at a time when she was pleased or diverted, showed that the emotion which gave rise to it was perfectly in keeping with the face itself. In repose her face was neither pretty nor ugly. It did not strongly depict a high mental status, nor yet portray the instincts of a brute; but her countenance was as safe an index to the mind as that of the human being. This is true of the chimpanzee more perhaps than of any other ape. The gorilla doubtless feels the sense of pleasure, but his face does not yield to the emotion, while the opposite passions are expressed with great intensity, and with the common chimpanzee it is the same way, but not to the same extent.

The kulu in question was more of a coquette than she was of a shrew. She plainly showed that she was fond of flattery. Not perhaps in the same sense that a human being is, but she was certainly conscious of approbation and fond of applause. When she accomplished anything difficult, she seemed aware of it; and when she succeeded in doing a thing which she was not allowed to do, she never failed to express herself in the manner described above. She always appeared to be perfectly conscious of being observed by others, but she was defiant and composed. There was nothing known in the catalogue of mischief that she was not ready to tackle at any moment and take her chances on the result. From the stoke-hole to the funnel, from the jack-staff to the rudder, she explored that boat.

To keep her out of mischief, she was tied on the saloon deck with a long line, but no one aboard the vessel was able to tie a knot in the line which she could not untie with dexterity and ease. Her master, who was a sailor and an expert in the art of tying knots, exhausted his efforts in trying to make one that would defy her skill.

On one occasion I was aboard the little steamer when the culprit was brought up from the main deck where she had been in some mischief, and tied to one of the rails along the side of the boat. The question of tying her was discussed, and at length a new plan was devised. In the act of untying a knot she always began with the part of the knot that was nearest to her. It was now agreed to tie the line around one of the rails on the side of the deck, about half-way between the two stanchions that supported it, then to carry the loose ends of the line to the stanchion and make it fast in the angle of it and the rail. This was done. As soon as she was left alone she began to examine the knots; but she made no attempt at first to untie them except to feel them as if to see how firmly they were made. She then climbed up on the iron rail around which the middle of the line was tied, and slackened the knot. She pulled first at one strand and then at the other, but one end was tied to the stanchion and the other to her neck, and she could find no loose end to draw through. First one way and then the other she drew this noose. She saw that in some way it was connected with the stanchion. She drew the noose along the rail until it was near the post; she climbed down upon the deck, then around the post and back again; she climbed up over the rails and down on the outside, and again carefully examined the knot; she climbed back, then through between the rails and back, then under the rails and back, but she could find no way to get this first knot out of the line. For a moment she sat down on the deck, and viewed the situation with evident concern. She slowly rose to her feet and again examined it; she moved the noose back to its place in the middle of the rail, climbed up by it, and again drew it out as far as the strands would allow. Again she closed it; she took one strand in her hand and traced it from the loop to the stanchion, then she took the other end in the same manner and traced it from the loop to her neck. She looked at the loop and then slowly drew it out as far as it would come. She sat for a while holding it in one hand, and with the other moved each strand of the knot. She was in a deep study, and did not even deign a glance at those who were watching her. At length she took the loop in both hands, deliberately put it over her head and crawled through it. The line thus released dropped to the deck; she quickly descended, took hold of it near her neck, and found that it was untied; she gathered it up as she advanced towards the other end that was tied to the post, and at once began to loosen the knots about it. In a minute more the last knot was released, when she gathered the whole line into a bundle, looked at those around her with that look of contempt which we have described, and departed at once in search of other mischief. The air of triumph and contempt was enough to convince any one of her opinion of what she had done.

If this feat was the result of instinct, the lexicons must find another definition for that word. There were six white men who witnessed the act, and the verdict of all was that she had solved a problem which few children of her own age could have done. Every movement was controlled by reason. The tracing out of cause and effect was too evident for any one to doubt.

Almost any animal can be taught to perform certain feats, but that does not show the innate capacity. The only true measure of the faculty of reason is to reduce the actor to his own resources, and see how he will render himself under some new condition, otherwise the act will be, at least in part, mechanical or imitative. In all my efforts to study the mental calibre of animals I have confined them strictly to their own judgment, and left them to work out the problem alone. By this means only can we estimate to what extent they apply the faculty of reason. No one doubts that all animals have minds, which are receptive in some degree. But it has often been said that they are devoid of reason, and controlled alone by some vague attribute called instinct. Such is not the case. It is the same faculty of the mind that men employ to solve the problems that arise in every sphere of life. It is the one which sages and philosophers have used in every phase of science. It differs in degree, but not in kind.

This kulu-kamba knew the use of a corkscrew. This she had acquired from seeing it applied by men. While she could not use it herself with success, she often tried and never applied it to the wrong purpose.

She would take the deck broom and scrub the deck, unless there was water on it, in which event she always left the job. She did not seem to know the purpose of sweeping the deck, and never swept the dirt before the broom. This was doubtless imitative. She only grasped the idea that a broom was used to scrub the deck, but she failed to observe the effect produced. However, it cannot be said with certainty to what extent she was aware of the effect, but it is inferred from the fact that she did not try to remove the dirt. She knew what coal was intended for, and often climbed into the bunker and threw it down by the furnace door. The furnace door and steam gauge were two things that escaped her busy fingers. I do not know how she learned the danger of them, but she never touched them. She had to be watched to keep her from seizing the machinery. For this she seemed to have a strong desire, but did not know the danger she incurred.

I was aboard a ship when a trader brought off from the beach a young kulu to be sent to England. The little captive sat upright on the deck and seemed aware that he was being sent away. At any rate his face wore a look of deep concern as if he had no friend to whom he could appeal. On approaching him I spoke to him, using his own word for food. He looked up and promptly answered it. He looked as if in doubt as to whether I was a big ape or something else. I repeated the sound, and he repeated the answer and came towards me. As he approached me I again gave the sound. He came up and sat by my feet for a moment, looking into my face. I uttered the sound again, when he took hold of my leg and began to climb up as if it had been a tree. He climbed up to my neck and began to play with my lips, nose and ears. We at once became friends, and I tried to buy him, but the price asked was more than I desired to pay. I regretted to part with him, but he was taken back to the beach, and I never saw him again.

On another occasion one was brought aboard, and after speaking to him I gave him an orange; he began to eat it and at the same time caught hold of the leg of my trousers as if he did not wish me to leave him. I petted and caressed him for a moment and turned away, but he held on to me. He waddled about over the deck, holding on to my clothes, and would not release me. He was afraid of his master and the native boy who had him in charge. He was a timid creature, but was quite intelligent, and I felt sorry for him because he seemed to realise his situation.

On the same voyage I saw one in the hands of a German trader. It was a young male, about one year old. He promptly answered the food sound, and I called him to come to me; but this he neither answered nor complied with. He looked at me as if to ask where I had learned his language. I repeated the sound several times, but elicited no answer. I have elsewhere called attention to the fact that these apes do not answer the call when they can see the one who makes it, and they do not always comply with it. In this respect they behave very much the same as young children, and it may be remarked that one difficulty in all apes is to secure fixed attention. This is exactly the same with young children. Even when they clearly understand, sometimes they betray no sign of having heard it. At other times they show that they both hear and understand, but do not comply.

Another specimen that was brought aboard a ship when I was present was a young male, something less than two years old. He was sullen and morose. He did not resent my approaches, but he did not encourage them. I first spoke to him with the food sound, but he gave no heed. I retired a little distance from him and called him, but he paid no attention. I then used the sound of warning; he raised his head, and looked in the direction from which the sound came. I repeated it, and he looked at me for a moment and turned his head away. I repeated it again. He looked at me, then looked around as if to see what it meant, and again resumed his attitude of repose.

On my last voyage to the coast I saw a very good specimen in the Congo. It was a female, a little more than two years old. She was also of a dark complexion, but quite intelligent. She had been captured north of there, and within the limits elsewhere described. At the time I saw her she was ill and under treatment, but her master, the British consul, told me that when she was well she was bright and sociable. I made no attempt to talk with her, except some time after, having left her, I gave the call sound, which she answered by looking around the corner of the house. I do not know whether she would have come or not, as she was tied and could not have done so had she desired to.

I have seen a few other specimens of this ape, and most of them appear to be of a somewhat higher order than the ordinary chimpanzee, but there is among them a wide range of intelligence. It would be a risk to say whether the lowest specimen of kulu is higher or lower than the highest specimen of the common chimpanzee or not, but taken as a whole they are much superior. I shall not describe at length the specimens which have been known in captivity, since most of them have been amply described by others; but it is not out of place to mention some of them.

If proper conditions were afforded to keep a pair of kulus in training for some years, it is difficult to say what they might not be taught. They are not only apt in learning what they are taught, but they are well-disposed, and can apply their accomplishment to some useful end. We cannot say to what extent they may be able to apply what they learn from man, because the necessity of doing so is removed by the attention given them.