by Jane Goodall
There was a world of difference between the early experiences of Freud, the firstborn, and his younger brother. Even though Freud, in contrast to other first infants, had enjoyed a remarkably social environment, he had spent many long hours with only Fifi for company. And though she, like Flo before her, had been a playful mother, there had been countless occasions when she was too busy with her own concerns to pay attention to Freud. How utterly different it was for Frodo. He was never on his own with Fifi—his elder brother was always there. And Freud served, in turn, as playmate, protector and comforter, and role model.
It was different for Fifi, too, now that she had a second child. She was freed from the constant pestering of a bored infant, always wanting to be played with, wanting to be groomed. And she was freed not just sometimes, as when she had joined forces with Winkle after Flo's death, but all the time. She was able to sit, utterly relaxed, idly watching as Freud and Frodo played together. If she thought at all—and of course she did—she could think her own thoughts, uninterrupted. Even so, she remained playful herself and often seemed unable to resist joining in the games of her sons when she had nothing better to do.
Frodo was fascinated by almost everything that Freud did. He watched him carefully, then often tried to imitate what he had seen. When he was nine months old, for example, and still unsteady on his feet, he gazed wide-eyed as Freud did a noisy and impressive drumming display on the buttress root of a big tree, then did his best to do the same. But his coordination was not up to it—he lost his balance, tumbled down a slope, and screamed in terror—or was it frustrated anger? At any rate, his attempt at adult male behaviour ended in ignominious rescue by his mother. There was another time when Frodo, keeping very close to Fifi, watched Freud as he played aggressively with young baboons, chasing them, stamping his feet on the ground and flailing a large piece of dead wood. When all was quiet and the baboons had left, Frodo went over to the abandoned weapon, intent, no doubt, on demonstrating how fearsomely he could brandish it. But it was too heavy for him even to lift it from the ground.
Freud was very affectionate towards his young brother, and very protective too. When Frodo became adventurous and climbed beyond Fifi's reach, Freud often followed, seemingly to keep an eye on the infant. So that when, as often happened, Frodo "got stuck" and whimpered in distress, Freud was close at hand to rescue him. When Frodo was about two years old he loved to play with baboons. Sometimes he got carried away and approached not only youngsters but even adults with his little displays. These adults occasionally became irritated with all his bristling and stamping and flailing of branches, and then they threatened him, slapping their hands on the ground and exposing their great canines. Frodo would scream in fear, and Freud was just as likely to rush to his rescue as Fifi was. Often, indeed, Freud stayed close by at such times, a self-appointed guardian.
While Frodo could hardly rescue his elder brother, he often showed concern if he was hurt or upset. When Freud was seven years old Fifi occasionally found it necessary to discipline him during feeding—if, for example, he tried to take a choice item that she had earmarked for herself. Twice when she mildly threatened her elder son he threw tantrums, hurling himself to the ground and screaming. Fifi ignored him, but little Frodo hurried over to his brother and embraced him, staying close by until Freud was quiet again. A year later Freud hurt his foot badly. He was unable to put it to the ground and for the first few days he travelled very slowly. Fifi typically waited for him when he stopped to rest, but sometimes she moved off before he was ready to limp after. Three times when this happened Frodo stopped, looked from Freud to his mother and back, and began to whimper. He continued to cry until Fifi stopped once more. Then Frodo sat close by his big brother, grooming him and gazing at the injured foot, until Freud felt able to continue. Then the family moved on together.
Most fascinating to watch was the interplay between Fifi and her two growing sons that led, for all three, to higher status in the community. Freud began the long struggle to intimidate the females of the community when he was seven years old. Charging towards and around them, he waved branches and hurled rocks—typical adolescent male behaviour. Initially he tackled the older juveniles and adolescents whose mothers were lower-ranking than Fifi. If one of these mothers turned on him—which was often the case—then Fifi would almost always back him up, threatening the female concerned, or even attacking her, for her ill-advised retaliation. Thus Freud's confidence grew and, as time went on he began to challenge the older females so that, more and more often, his "victims" turned on their puny assailant and chased him off, or even beat him up. Fifi, because she almost always went to his defence, was increasingly drawn into conflicts with the other females.
There were times when Freud aimed too high. Once, for example, he had the audacity to threaten high-ranking Melissa, and she thrashed him soundly for his rashness. Fifi, although younger and lower ranking than Melissa, had, like Flo before her, a staunch and fearless nature. In response to Freud's anguished screams she rushed up, her hair bristling, uttering fierce waa-barks of threat. Melissa at once turned from Freud to Fifi, and the two mothers fought, grappling and rolling over and over. Freud ran behind them, uttering high-pitched and futile waa-barks of his own. Unfortunately for Fifi, Melissa's adolescent son Goblin was nearby and, hearing the screams of his mother, he charged up, attacking Fifi and chasing her—and Freud—away.
But all the time Freud was growing bigger and stronger and, as levels of the male hormone, testosterone, increased during puberty, he became more aggressive too. By the time he was nine years old he was able to support his mother in her altercations. When Fifi once became involved in a fight with the high-ranking Passion, both Freud and Pom joined the skirmish, in support of their respective mothers. But Freud was able to chase Pom away, and then he returned and hurled a rock at Passion. This startled her and allowed Fifi to win the fight. And so, as the years went by, both mother and son gradually raised their social standing.
Meanwhile young Frodo was growing up too. Secure in the knowledge that, if things went wrong, Fifi or Freud—or both of them—would surely come to help him, he began to challenge community females at a very early age. After all, he had been watching Freud, learning from him—and, indeed, "helping" him—for years. Again and again, as Freud had threatened some wretched female with his swaggering displays, little Frodo had joined in: his every hair bristling he had bounced and stamped about on unsteady legs, swaying tiny branches, looking for all the world like an animated figure from a Disney cartoon.
Frodo was just five years old when he began to challenge some of the females on his own. Of course, he was still very small, but he quickly learned that the judicious use of rocks as weapons tremendously enhanced the effectiveness of his threats. Very soon he developed a reputation as a prize thrower. Many young chimps throw rocks during intimidation displays—it was a characteristic component of Freud's performances and it is more than likely that Frodo, initially, was imitating his elder brother. But Frodo perfected the throwing technique, and, in a very short space of time, many of the younger and lower-ranking females came to fear this precocious young male and hastened away when he swaggered towards them, rock in hand. Frodo scored direct hits rather more often than other stone-throwers, not so much because his aim was better, but because he approached to within a couple of feet before hurling his missiles. He developed other unpleasant techniques as well.
I remember vividly an incident that happened when I was following Fifi, Little Bee, and their families. Suddenly Little Bee, gazing up the steep slope, began to utter small screams. And there, some yards above us, I saw Frodo just starting a swaggering display, hair bristling, rock in hand. He hurled it towards us but it fell harmlessly between Little Bee and myself. It was not clear whether Little Bee or I had been the intended victim—Frodo had always considered that I was merely another female, to be dominated along with the rest. Next he began pushing at a huge rock. It was much too big for him to lift, but he co
uld—and did—set it rolling down the slope. It gained momentum rapidly as it bounded towards us, ricocheting erratically from one tree trunk to another. Had it hit any of us we could well have been knocked out, if not killed. And then, even as I was wondering which way to run, Frodo set a second rock in motion. By the time he had started to push at a third we were all running for our lives—not only Little Bee and myself, but Fifi too. Fortunately Frodo did not make a habit of this type of bombardment, although he continued to throw stones and small rocks for years.
One of the most important milestones in the life of a young male is when he begins to travel away from his mother with other members of the community. The severing of apron strings is far more necessary for a young male than for a young female. She can learn most of what she needs to know for a successful adult life whilst remaining safely in her family setting. Not only can she watch her mother and her mother's friends caring for their infants, but she can actually handle them herself, gaining much of the experience which she will need later when she has a baby of her own. And she can learn, during her mother's "pink days," a good deal about sex and the demands that will subsequently be made of her in that sphere.
The young male has different things to learn. There are some aspects of community life that are primarily, though not entirely, male responsibilities—such as patrolling, repelling intruders, searching out distant food sources, and some kinds of hunting. He cannot gain adequate experience in such matters if he remains with his mother. He must leave her and spend time with the males. Freud had been fascinated by the big males throughout his infancy. From the time he could walk he had been quick to totter up to greet any males who joined his mother, and often, too, had followed a short way when they left. I remember Freud stumbling after Humphrey once, as he set off after a grooming session with Fifi. His mother, not at all wishing to leave, followed and tried to retrieve him, but he protested vigorously, whimpering and clinging tightly onto the vegetation. After a few attempts, each one provoking increased resentment, Fifi gave in and trailed along behind as her son continued to follow Humphrey. Presently, though, he got tired, climbed onto her back, and made no protest when she moved off in the direction of her choice.
Freud had always been eager to join in the fun whenever he heard the calling of chimpanzees gathered in excited, noisy groups. I remember one occasion, when he was just four years old. We had had a peaceful morning, just the three of us on our own. At midday Fifi rested, stretched out on the ground, while Freud, ever active, played in the branches above. Suddenly, on the far side of the valley, there was an outburst of excited pant-hoots and screaming. Certainly some of the adult males were there—the voices of Figan and Satan, Humphrey and Jomeo were easy to recognize—and we could hear females and youngsters as well. Freud listened intently, then joined in with his high-pitched infant pant-hoots and Fifi sat up and called as well. Swinging down, Freud at once set off in the direction of the big group. But Fifi did not move and, after travelling some ten yards, Freud looked back, then stopped and whimpered softly. But Fifi ignored her son's plea and lay down to continue her rest. Disappointed, he moved back and sat beside her, raising one arm in a request for grooming.
Five minutes later the group called again. As before Freud joined in eagerly, this time running along the ground and stamping his feet in a small display. Again he set off along the trail towards the excited calling, longing to be part of it, to join his peers in their games. But still Fifi made no move to follow. This time Freud went a little further before he paused and looked back. Nor did he return, but remained standing some fifteen yards along the track—just before it made a sharp bend that would take him out of Fifi's sight. Gradually his soft whimpers increased in frequency and volume until he was crying loudly.
And then, either because of Freud's entreaty, or just because she felt like joining the fun herself, Fifi got up and followed her son along the trail. Ten minutes later they were part of the noisy, exuberant group. Fifi, with soft grunts of pleasure, climbed to feed on the juicy figs that had attracted more than half of the community members to the feast. Freud, beside himself with excitement, raced to join a wild play session with other youngsters.
One very clear indication of increasing independence in the young male is the frequency with which he joins gatherings of this sort without his mother. Sometimes the chimpanzees get together in these large and noisy groups in order to feast on some abundant and delicious crop; sometimes the magnet is a sexually popular female. The gatherings usually last for a week or more, with chimpanzees arriving and leaving at different times. In many ways they are the hub of chimpanzee social life, giving community members the opportunity to meet and interact with each other—to play, groom, display, make a noise. Often, particularly when several pink females are present at the same time, there is almost a carnival atmosphere.
Fifi, with her social disposition, joined many gatherings throughout Freud's infancy and childhood, so that he gained much social experience and learned (often the hard way) to make himself scarce when the big males were tense and the threshold for aggression low. As the years went by, Freud's self-confidence in such situations increased: by the time he was nine years old he was joining gatherings without his mother quite regularly. And Frodo did so at an even earlier age—provided that his big brother was nearby to provide reassurance in times of stress. Indeed, when he was only five years old, Frodo actually spent several nights in succession away from his mother, travelling with the adult males—and Freud.
Prof's childhood was very different from that of Freud and even more so from that of Frodo. Although Passion was considerably more attentive and less harsh with this her second child, she could not begin to compare with Fifi in terms of affection and solicitude, tolerance and playfulness. Moreover, with the passing of the years she had become increasingly asocial—the big groups of chimps that had gathered in camp for bananas during Pom's infancy were a thing of the past. And Passion had no friend, such as Winkle, with whose infant Prof could play. He did, of course, have an older sister but even though, after getting over her weaning depression, she began to show more interest in her young brother, she never played the role in his life that Freud had played in Frodo's or Flint, before he died, in Freud's.
Prof, therefore, had less opportunity for social interactions of any kind than Freud and Frodo did. Perhaps because he played with other youngsters less often than they, he lacked confidence when he did play. He hardly ever stood up for himself when a game got rough even though, if he did get into trouble, Pom as well as Passion usually helped him out. But probably the most significant difference in the early social experiences of these three young males was the fact that Prof had far fewer opportunities to interact with adult males.
For Prof, as for his sister before him, weaning was a time of despair, but because he was a male he was far more aggressive in his misery than Pom had been. He threw violent tantrums, screaming and tearing at his hair, hurling himself to the ground. In most families, tantrums elicit an immediate response from the mother. Frodo, spoilt child that he became, had also thrown violent tantrums. In his case, I think, they were due more to rage at not getting his own way. Always Fifi had reached out to him, trying to draw him close. If, as was so often the case, he had then hurled himself to the ground, pulling away from her conciliatory gesture, she had usually taken him into her arms and held him there. And, however violent had been his rage, Frodo had always calmed after a while, perhaps intuitively understanding his mother's message: "You can't have milk (or ride on my back) but I still love you, anyway."
But hard-hearted Passion often ignored Prof's tantrums altogether. This, of course, was yet another form of rejection, and Prof became increasingly distressed as a result. Screaming loudly he would rush off through the undergrowth or hurl himself down some slope. Once he actually tumbled backwards right into a stream—and young chimpanzees are frightened of fast-moving water. Even then, when his screams of frustration must surely have turned to scream
s of fear, Passion ignored her son. This troubled period in his young life did little to boost Prof's already minimal self-confidence! However, unlike Pom, Prof re-covered from his weaning despair before the birth of his infant brother, Pax, and, like Freud, he was fascinated by his new sibling, more so than Pom had been by hers.
Prof was about the same age as Freud when he was first seen to challenge a female. But whereas Freud, having once embarked on the task of dominating the females, repeated his displays more and more often, Prof's performances were few and far between. And they lacked the determination and vigour that characterized Freud's efforts and, later, Frodo's. Indeed, Prof's second attempt ended somewhat ignominiously when his "victim" reached out, grabbed his neck, and tickled him until his bristling aggression ended in laughter.
Prof, as an infant, clearly longed to spend time with the big males just as Freud and Frodo had. But if he set off after one of them Passion never followed and so quite soon he gave up trying to persuade her. Moreover, because Passion avoided the big groups that Fifi and other sociable females found so exhilarating, Prof often seemed ill at ease on those occasions when he did find himself in such a gathering. And so, lacking Freud's and Frodo's self-confidence, Prof was still spending almost all his time with his mother when she died—at which time he was almost eleven years old.
