‘OK, now we’ll follow the trackers into the forest,’ said Deschryver in a hushed voice. ‘Just remember to keep vigilant, silent and calm. They know exactly what they’re doing.’ The three of them followed the trackers along a well-worn trail into the denser foliage of the montane rain forest of Mount Kahuzi, where the trackers kept stopping to examine food remnants, faecal deposits and gorilla spoor that looked comparatively recent. As they had picked up such a recent trail, they became as alert as a brace of tracker dogs having just caught scent of their quarry – although in contrast to a pack of hounds they now remained silent, only communicating with each other by way of hand signals. As they continued to deftly cut their way through the thick blankets of bamboo with their menacing-looking metal pangas, laying each bundle neatly to one side, they continued searching for every telltale sign of the direction that the gorilla family had taken.
The small party negotiated their way through the density of the vegetation – in some places it was impossible for them to even walk upright. They had on a number of occasions to either crouch, or even crawl, through the undergrowth in order to follow the gorillas’ spoor. Some of the mature stands of bamboo measured up to 8-10 cm in diameter and their lush feather-like branches reached almost 20 m into the light mountain air. After almost an hour there had become increasing evidence that a group of gorillas had only recently traversed the trail that the guides were following. Small piles of sheaths of bamboo shoots, deposits of light-coloured faeces, broken branches and varied sizes of foot and knuckle prints could be seen in the forest’s sponge-like peaty ground, which all provided additional evidence that a gorilla family was close by.
‘Have you seen piles of shoots like these before?’ whispered Deschryver to Mathew during one of their brief pauses for rest. Mathew shook his head. ‘At this time of the year, between September and February, bamboo shoots are in season around here – the gorillas take full advantage. They gather a handful, settle down in a favourite spot and enjoy the delicacy of the hearts of the shoots. Once they’ve eaten what they want, instead of discarding the leftovers like a troop of baboons would, the gorillas arrange them in neat little piles of between four and twelve.’
As they progressed further, Mathew’s nostrils detected the familiar effluvium musk odour of the gorilla, an aroma that he had been first exposed to in the late 1960s while viewing the solitary male lowland gorilla (Willie B.) in his original Victorian-style cage at the Atlantic Zoo, and later while observing some of the gorillas at the Yerkes Primate Research Center. The guides soon became more hesitant, stopping to listen carefully, before using their pangas to hack at some of the sturdier ringed stems of a nearby bamboo stand to create as much noise as possible among the vegetation, in order to alert the gorillas as to their presence. Within no more than thirty seconds of the disturbance, the tranquility of the forest was broken by the deep-bellied roar of an adult male silverback that had been in quite close proximity to them. This was soon to be followed by a further roar, the noise of breaking branches and the crushing of nearby bamboo stems.
With a gorilla so nearby, Deschryver had taken over the lead position; the Pygmies immediately looked more at ease as they smiled at each other in seeming relief and gratitude. Then, after the party moved on a little further, through a gap in the heavy foliage Mathew gained his first sight of a magnificent eastern lowland gorilla in the wild. The young silverback was sitting on the far side of a fallen tree; his jet-black head, sparsely haired chest and the long hairs on his arms and stomach contrasted significantly with the light grayness of his silver back. As soon as Deschryver had seen the gorilla he had taken some leaves to chew, and by not looking directly at the silverback, he kept making the soft, rumbling noise of a gorilla welcome and repeating in an equally soft voice, ‘com-com’, ‘com-com’, ‘com-com’. The silverback responded to this by giving a deep yawn, throwing his head back and displaying a fine array of ivory-white teeth, which were set within an oasis of pinkish gums. He then shifted his position slightly and suddenly stood up, executed with his cupped hands the familiar gorilla chest-beat display of ‘pok-a-pok’, ‘pok-a-pok’, ‘pok-a-pok’, ‘pok-a-pok’, then turned his back on them and disappeared out of view into a small valley beneath where they had been standing.
‘I believe that the young silverback has come into the area from a nearby small group of bachelors to try to lure some females away from Casimir,’ whispered Deschryver. Casimir was the leader of a family group, an elderly silverbacked male that Deschryver had befriended some five years previously. ‘With all the chest-beating and vocalisations of this young male, Casimir’s family will be very unsettled – I very much doubt we’ll see anything more today, we may as well retrace our tracks.’
About half an hour later, Deschryver heard a branch being snapped about 25 m to the right and, within two minutes, they came upon the large bulk of Casimir lying down with his back towards them, with six members of his family relaxing to the rear of him. Another large male, whom Deschryver had named Hannibal, sat in a restful position to the right of his younger family members, with his broad back leaning against a massive tree trunk. Hannibal’s attention appeared to be divided between the casual regarding of the knuckles of his right hand, and seemingly contemplating what to do next; although at the same time glancing good-naturedly in Deschryver’s direction. Three of the younger gorillas were tussling together like friendly wrestlers, with two adult females grooming and picking through the thick black hairs of Casimir’s shoulders and arms, while two juveniles peered inquisitively from behind them, as if seeking some type of reassurance that this small group of humans were not a threat to their well-being.
While the gorilla family relaxed during the mid-morning period, it was customary for Deschryver to always do likewise; to just stand or lie down on the peaty soil and to take notes of his observations and, as if sharing his lunchtime with the gorillas, to continuously chew some leaves. Mathew noticed that Lucienne often acted in a similar fashion, and he could see by her keen sense of alertness and constant excitement when following the Pygmies and Deschryver that she was in her element. Whenever Lucienne had stopped to peer through the foliage at the gorillas and Mathew had been able to look at her more closely, he could appreciate what a stunningly attractive woman she was. He found that her considerable enthusiasm for what she was observing was utterly contagious, and he felt quite humble in having been in the presence of such a seemingly contented family group of one of man’s closest relatives.
After Casimir had been almost motionless for some twenty minutes, he had rolled onto his side, propped himself up on his right elbow, and then gathered his massive body up into a sitting position as if to better acknowledge the presence of Deschryver, his benefactor and guardian. Only then could Mathew fully appreciate Casimir’s size and true magnificence. He had been fascinated by the way that Deschryver had mimicked the silverback’s welcoming noise, and how two or three of the group had joined Casimir with their rumblings of greetings. During this time it had been obvious to Mathew just how enthralled Lucienne had been in watching the gentle playful interactions of the family group. After a further fifteen minutes of seemingly mutual admiration between Deschryver and Casimir, the silverback made a series of soft rumbling stomach sounds that brought a chain of similar responses from the other members of his group. This heralded Casimir’s tight-knit family reverently following him down a slope through the giant bamboos to a further foraging site prior to dusk, and the making of their respective sleeping nests for the night.
During the next hour, they followed the gorilla family, keeping as close to them as possible without wishing to disturb their afternoon foraging. At times, the three sub-adults climbed high up into the trees, feeding on the red berries of a species of stinkwood. (On a later occasion, Deschryver told Mathew that the eastern lowland gorillas of Kahuzi-Biega had been observed to feed on over 200 vegetable food plants, as well as on a variety of small invertebrates.) Three-quarters of an hour before dusk, the
party left the gorillas to settle down for the night. ‘The females and their young will make their nests in the trees,’ explained Deschryver to Mathew, ‘while the senior males and Casimir will stay on the ground – they will sleep but they will also keep guard.’
Just as the daylight was finding it difficult to filter its way through the forest’s thick canopy to the peaty substratum of the soft ground, with Mathew finding it quite a challenge to keep up with the rest of the party, it seemed to him almost like a miracle that the Pygmy trackers were able to guide them back to where they had left the vehicle, taking them by the ‘white man’s route’ through this mountain of Eden. In this respect, Mathew had found that it was rather as if the Pygmies had been empowered by the same navigational skills as migratory birds when they return annually to their original nesting sites. Deschryver dropped off the two now jovial and very talkative trackers at the small thatched and mud-built dwellings just outside the park’s entrance, which he had constructed for their families. On the journey back to Bukavu, Mathew found the lifeless span of the tarmac road to be in sharp contrast to the delights of the lush tropical foliage that they had just spent over nine hours negotiating.
During the remaining part of their return journey, hardly a word had been exchanged between Mathew, Deschryver and Lucienne for they were each thinking about the time they had spent with Casimir and his family. Mathew was amazed that on this, his first visit to the park, he had experienced such a close and lengthy encounter with the gorillas. ‘That sort of lengthy viewing is by no means the norm,’ Deschryver had later told him. ‘Although it’s quite common to hear chest-beatings and those screaming roars, I’ve had many trips into the forest where I completely fail to catch a glimpse of them.’ Also, due to Lucienne’s responsibilities in running the office, it was rare that she had the opportunity to visit the park, let alone to have had such an excellent face-to-face encounter with these doyens of the kingdom of anthropoid apes. Mathew well recognised how much the day’s experience had represented one of the highlights and most memorable occasions of his life so far, made even better by having been in the company of two such remarkable people.
‘Could you come to the office at 8.30 tomorrow morning?’ Deschryver asked Mathew prior to dropping him off at Hotel Metropole. ‘It’ll give us a chance to discuss the details of your forthcoming field work . . . I’d like to hear some more about the main objectives of your observations.’
‘Good idea,’ replied Mathew enthusiastically. ‘Now I’ve seen the park itself, I have a much clearer picture of the conditions and the environment I’ll be studying in.’ Mathew was keen to establish with Deschryver exactly what restrictions would be placed on him, but was aware that he must tread carefully. ‘I would like to thank you for what has truly been one of the greatest experiences of my life . . . I’ll never forget what I’ve seen today,’ said Mathew as he got out, at the same time reaching over from the front seat and lightly squeezing Lucienne’s right hand, as if to express his gratitude to her for having paved the way to such a satisfactory introduction to Deschryver, and for arranging such an unforgettable day.
As Lucienne had previously inferred, Mathew’s initial meeting with Deschryver had been similar to appearing in front of an examiner. He recognised that the many questions he was asked about the way he wished to undertake his field observations amounted to a thorough assessment. He would have to pass the test if he was to receive Deschryver’s full cooperation. Also, Mathew had been aware that Deschryver had kept a very close eye on him, particularly during the time they had spent in close proximity to the gorillas. It had become obvious that Deschryver had wanted to see just how he reacted to being confronted for the first time by gorillas in the wild state. However, on this first meeting, Mathew had come to recognise what a reserved and self-contained disposition he possessed but, at the same time, how this athletic, clean-shaven man in his mid-forties radiated a similar degree of authority to that of one of his treasured silverbacks.
‘Whenever you’re close to gorillas in the wild,’ emphasised Deschryver at the meeting the following morning, ‘you must remain as calm and peaceful as possible. Let me give you an example. I once took a group of Belgian tourists to visit the gorillas. One lady was so alarmed to see a silverback close to her that she screamed, setting off a whole chain-reaction among the gorilla group. The silverback in question, Hannibal, was obviously alarmed and gave out a loud, deep-throated roar of defiance, together with a mock-charge at the tourists. As you can imagine, the whole party were in a state of considerable panic and disorder and retraced their steps as quickly as possible to take refuge in the undergrowth. It took quite a while for some of them to extricate themselves and join up with the rest of the party, before we whisked them back to the safety of their vehicles and their hotel in Bukavu. It certainly taught me a lesson.’
‘Of course, Mr Deschryver. I am the first to admit I’m inexperienced with gorillas in the wild, but I have spent some time observing them in captivity so I feel confident I can keep my head, whatever happens. Yesterday’s encounter with Casimir’s family was an incredible experience for me, I can’t quite believe I was so fortunate on my first visit.’
‘We were lucky, such a prolonged experience is quite rare.’
‘So I understand, but now I’ve had that introduction to Casimir and his family, now I know the type of environment I’ll be working in, I would like to express my gratitude to you for being given this opportunity to undertake comparative observations between the gorilla colony at the Yerkes Centre and your habituated group.’
‘Your observations should help us in our work, in the long term.’ Deschryver was, as expected, guarded in his response to Mathew’s enthusiasm.
‘I’m hoping that while I’m writing up my dissertation, I can get an article accepted in a major popular title which will highlight the significance of your conservation work at Kahuzi-Biega, which could perhaps promote further funding opportunities for your national park. The methodology I’ve been working on with the captive gorillas combined with these studies of gorillas in their natural environment should help to identify the cognitive skills of gorilla families and their relevance to human communication. It’s a fascinating area, it deserves to get some coverage.’
‘Once you’ve completed your field observations and written up the dissertation, I must ask that you submit a bound copy of it to the government’s Minister of National Parks in Kinshasa, as well as a copy for the park’s library in Bukavu. Also, your article for a popular title – could you let me see the manuscript prior to publication? If there’s anything in it that I believe could be considered in Zaire to be politically counter-productive to future financial support from the government, I will have to ask you to edit it accordingly.’
‘Of course, Mr Deschryver. I can supply the two bound copies and you would be most welcome to see a copy of the article. You are no doubt far more in tune with the attitude of the authorities than I, so it would be most beneficial if you could give me your opinion.’
‘Good,’ concluded Deschryver. ‘In that case I think we’ve covered everything for the time being. I will arrange for two guides to take you into the park for your field studies and sort out the other arrangements. In the meantime, I wish you luck.’
Lucienne told Mathew later that Deschryver had been guardedly impressed by the way he had handled himself in the forest, and had been encouraged by the degree of apparent genuine enthusiasm he had shown. Although Deschryver had been slightly apprehensive as to how Mathew would be able to cope by himself in the company of two Pygmy guides (who would have to be carefully chosen), their meeting had facilitated the mapping out of a provisional modus operandi to cover his first four weeks of study, as well as the agreement that he should occupy one of the small wooden huts close to the eastern entrance to the park.
Prior to Mathew arranging to gather together the stores he would require for his semi-isolation, as a matter of local diplomacy and the potential of gaining additional kno
wledge and assistance Deschryver had arranged for Lucienne to drive Mathew to the nearby headquarters at Lwiro of the Institut pour la Reserche Scientifique en Afrique Central (IRSAC), to meet its director and some of its scientific staff. On the way to Lwiro, Lucienne briefed Mathew of the current status of the research centre.
‘It’s really quite a place – you’ll be surprised. The centre was built by the Belgians in 1951, with the original decree stating that the objectives of the institute were to undertake scientific research concerned with man and nature. Five research centres were initially developed, each under the supervision of permanent European staff and specialising in a variety of disciplines. After all the post-independence upheavals of the 1960s, the majority of the institute’s research work ground to a halt.
‘When I visited with the Belgian film crew, I was introduced to Dr Peter Kunkel – we found that we had both studied at the same university. Dr Kunkel told me how he had joined the zoology section of the Lwiro research centre straight from university in the early 1960s, so he has been there throughout the troubled times, and how he had been only recently appointed Director General. He is developing as many of the scientific research programmes as possible, in particular the ethnographic studies of the peoples around Lake Kivu, the problems of combating malnutrition and a study of tropical rain forest ecology – ecological studies on the Pygmies of the forest as well as on many animal and plant species, including the mountain gorilla. I think he could be a very useful contact for your research.’
On arrival at the research institute’s impressive headquarters, Lucienne and Mathew passed through its covered entrance way and into a courtyard with two large ponds, overspilling with an abundance of tropical water plants and with a carapace of colourful butterflies flitting to and fro, providing a welcome coolness to the heat of the mid-morning sun.
‘Lucienne! How good to see you again – and you must be Mathew Duncan.’ Dr Kunkel greeted Lucienne warmly like a long-lost university friend and shook Mathew’s hand with vigour. ‘Come, have a look around and meet some of our people.’ He immediately proceeded to give them a conducted tour of the well-equipped research laboratories, spacious conference room, library and offices, as well as introducing them to a cross-section of scientists and technicians from a range of nationalities: Rwandese, South African, Belgians, Germans, French, Japanese and local Zairians from Lubumbashi. They took tea in his spacious office, where light streamed in through the windows to counteract the formality of the dark wood panelling of the walls. Mathew was impressed by Dr Kunkel’s dedication and enthusiasm for the centre’s research work. He was interested to learn that Lieutenant General Mobutu Sésé Seko becoming president in November 1965 had brought stability to the country; that IRSAC itself had been placed under the direct responsibility of the President of the Republic of the Congo and was thereby assured of government support.
Someone Wishes to Speak to You Page 3
