“Well then, ladies and gentlemen, what one must conclude from this is the following: this species has undergone in a progressive manner, for at least two centuries, a series of physical modifications; or rather, these modifications have been occurring for many generations, but it is only recently that we have been able to take note of the level of development towards which the species was heading.
“One must assume that the slow transformation of the encephalon, a little more developed, a little richer in convolutions at each new stage, led to a rise in psychic activity, a need to translate and exchange increasingly numerous and complex ideas. The transformations of the vocal organs and buccal cavity followed, allowing for the use of speech. I remind you at this moment of Nirdhoffer’s scholarly studies on the progressive reduction in prognathism among the chimpanzees; a further element in support of our thesis.
“Thus, a brain capable of reasoned thought, a physical conformation compatible with the requirements of language, a reduction in the facial angle: these simians prove that among the apes an undeniable evolution is occurring towards a higher state.”
At these words, a prolonged movement was heard in the assembly. But Murlich, paying them no heed, continued:
“However, ladies and gentlemen, notwithstanding the fact that these apes have managed to express their thoughts by way of a language, which is the highest mode of expression, one might have some doubts as to whether this was an irrefutable symptom of the superior state of which I spoke before. By objecting, for example, that Gulluliou and his fellows simply react in a hard and fast manner to emotional stimuli, which they then translate in a variety of ways, all purely instinctive. The anthropoids would then only possess a subconscious, sufficient to allow them to designate certain objects or sensations by onomatopoeia, through cries, even by articulate sounds, but all this in a mechanical manner, the way a drop of water always makes the same sound when falling in the same place, as gears of a winch do at any given moment. One could go on with further examples.
“Certainly, such a theory has little to support it, to say no more. It has nonetheless found some defenders.” A new wave of restlessness moved the audience. In his ever calm voice, Murlich continued:
“However, ladies and gentlemen, independently of the question of language, other important factors concur to establish the apes’ progress, and, in this regard, I believe that I have personally acquired definitive evidence. The pongos’ behavior, which I studied from close up and followed very closely over many months, convinced me that these animals, if their strictly physical makeup had improved in the direction of becoming human, so had their intelligence and social skills. I’m willing to agree that the mud and branch huts built by the pongos may have been designed in imitation of homes they may have seen, although their huts were built deep in the forest, far from any population centers. I’ll even admit, if you like, that these animals have borrowed from man the habit of surrounding their hips with a skirt of woven leaves, and of protecting the soles of their feet by attaching strips of bark to them. But how can one not attribute a spontaneous origin to the fact that at sunrise, the entire tribe gathers on some high ground and sings in a monotonous voice a kind of hymn to the Sun? Where would they have seen this?”
Some significant snickers had greeted Murlich’s last words. He continued, interrupted every now and then by a strong restlessness:
“Let us not laugh, ladies and gentlemen. On the contrary, it behooves us not to neglect such a strange occurrence, which is uniquely troubling if one remembers that humanity went through a long period during which it devoted itself to these same superstitious practices, which nowadays seem ridiculous: worshipping first the elements, then imaginary beings to which they erected temples.
“Ladies and gentlemen, understand: I’m not saying that a similar tendency is an element of progress, I am simply drawing a parallel between it and the period of our history I have just discussed.
“Furthermore, the accession of these apes to a civilization, yes, to a civilization which while perhaps embryonic remains nonetheless real, is a purely natural and logical phenomenon. It is nothing else but a startling confirmation of the law enunciated as early as 2055 by the immortal Hetking. A law unfortunately little known today. Hetking included, as you know, all of Nature in a vast cycle, or better yet, to a great ladder upon the rungs of which species climb, pushing off others in an infinitely slow process. This occurs in such a manner that when one of them has reached the top and stayed there awhile, it begins to drop, as the next one takes its place. “Hetking’s Law29 stands as a sort of counterpart and complement to that which was postulated by the illustrious Darwin, when he established the basis of his ‘natural selection.’ I will only call up in passing the great gifts of knowledge contributed to us by Darwin. If he only glimpsed part of the truth, he must still be considered one of our great scientific precursors.
“First, against all dogmas, against all the prejudices to which his era was subject, he dared establish, on a solid unshakeable footing, the simian origins of man. Man had arisen on Earth after millions of years during which the species evolved, from the primitive Monera which had become algae, Infusoria, worms, fish, batrachians, reptiles, up to an ancient lemur, with a tail, then into a tailless simian with a human anatomy. Then came the Pithecanthropus, the ape-man, not yet endowed with an articulate language, but penultimate link of a chain which has the cell at one end, and our civilization at the other. Finally, came man.
“Darwin went no further. He was certain that man constituted the final form of animal life having reached its full physical and intellectual development. But, along with those of his era, he believed that this human, once obtained, created a barrier and taking on the attributes of a species, it stood up against the field of evolution.
“One had had to wait a long time for Hetking to come along and, on the contrary, state that the evolution of orders, families and genera did not stop there, but rather that it was eternal. Certainly, the human model represented achievable perfection, but this is no longer the domain of a single species. It will be that of all species in succession. It is towards this achievement that all of Nature strives, dies, and is reborn in all its aspects, in its infinitely diversified stirrings. It is to possess this ultimate rank, humanity, that all the forces of the universe are in motion. In this admirable conception of man, extended to all complex organisms, and no longer limited to a privileged category, do you not see the solution to any number of problems which those of the past had vainly and confusedly examined?
“To the endless vibration of matter agglomerated into organisms, to their slow transformations, Hetking assigns a goal, a raison d’être. He defined the ideals of a Nature ever striving for the best.
“Why such constant battles, mutual rending, swallowing up of the weaker by the stronger, this great war between the infinitely little and the huge, the bacillus and the giant, ongoing from the very beginning? Our philosophies remained ignorant before this mystery and could only supply mumbled answers.
“Hetking explains everything. Thanks to him we know and now our knowledge of the facts proves it to us, that every species, in rising on the ladder of creation, carries in itself the seeds of its own destruction; that that which allowed its progression, then causes it to backslide. Turned against itself, the Darwinian law will ensure that, for the eternal cycle of Nature to perpetuate itself forever, it will one day yield its superior status.
“Well ladies and gentlemen, we are atop the ladder.”
Here, the audience shuddered in a new swell of discontent.
“Our individual and social development has reached its summit. We can rightly be prideful of having both subjugated other animals, and the forces of Nature. But perhaps, in the near future, might we not be pushed off by this fateful law?”
At this moment the crowd’s restlessness became so great that the rest of his sentence was lost beneath a muddled hubbub. Maximin and Alix, situated in the first rows of the crowd had alre
ady flashed questioning glances on one another. Maximin said softly:
“If he continues along those lines, it will turn out badly. These idiots don’t understand. He hurts their pride, an unpardonable crime!”
“Poor man, he is nonetheless extraordinary, don’t you think?”
“As a man, I will gladly accept his theory, as I believe Nature holds a number of surprises in store for the narrow and conventional science of today. As a poet I can only deplore the fact that an unlimited future cannot be afforded to our race. It is true that the works of man shall not perish if they are worthy of survival!”
Alix, she too enveloped by the tense atmosphere, said in shrugging her shoulders:
“They claim a monopoly over civilization, and scream like wild beasts!” However, Murlich had managed to overcome the rumor. He now displayed Gulluliou, who, sitting at his table with a worried and resigned look, turned his head slowly.
“Look at this simian, ladies and gentlemen, you have heard him speak, I can attest that he is possessed of more than a simple automatist, that he obeys true feelings, that he knows how to coordinate them, that he is even capable, with the help of his memory, to distinguish between doing good and evil, once he has been told only once. We are thus in the presence of a true sense of morals, inferior, it is true, but which nonetheless indicates in this species a huge step along the road to progress.
“I could, ladies and gentlemen, cite a number of facts in support of this intellectual improvement, on the heels of a physical improvement; and now, with respect to the psychological phenomenon of the association of ideas, there comes to mind one detail which proves that this phenomenon occurs just as well in Gulluliou’s brain as in that of a man. For the two weeks since he has been in Paris, on several occasions Gulluliou has been struck with amazement at the many spectacles the capital has to offer its visitors, but nothing perhaps had a greater effect than a view of the Seine, furrowed by thousands of electric ships crossing one another in every direction. Then, to designate this sight, do you know what word he came up with, what word he created? Here it is in pongo: Ourang pfluitt, which means bird-tree. Indeed, all the boats are trees to him. He has assimilated by a strange association of ideas the boats which go about on our rivers with the tree trunks he saw carried by those of his country of origin, and to add to this designation an element of speed, he found nothing better than to add the word, bird. Is it not strange that such an animal is capable of so reconstituting, if not in its entirety, at least in his conception, a meaningful expression which used to be used, in the age of steam, for certain boats, a term I found in a description of the Paris of old: the fly-boats?”
As the crowd’s restlessness continued to build, the naturalist understood the need to shorten his presentation:
“There is, I believe, a detail which sufficiently supports my thesis. Gulluliou, in being capable of coordinating his thoughts with their representation, has taken a step towards humanity.
“In many regards he is human or quasi-human [each of his words was now met by an uproar] by his general appearance, his language, his habits, even by qualities of the heart [snide shouts]. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, Gulluliou, a true child since he is barely 13 years old, and notwithstanding the precocious development of his body, Gulluliou possesses, along with his faults, all the qualities of the heart of a child: a great innocence, a propensity to confide in those who are familiar to him, to give himself up to them to protect him from the least danger, a sensitivity rendering him compassionate to any sadness, a compass he shows in stopping all his games and remaining silent [new snide comments]. This may seem surprising, but nothing, ladies and gentlemen, is more true. Besides, this tendency to altruism, to getting along with others, to an even temper and mild behavior are, if one can judge from the examples I have witnessed firsthand among the pongo, a racial trait. The pongo tribes, families and households live in perfect harmony, protect each other in any circumstance, and are concerned with the fate of their offspring.
“I would mention in this regard my student’s capture, taken when he was very young, some ten years ago. The hunters had, notwithstanding my explicit instructions, riddled his mother, who had tried to protect him, with bullets. I then witnessed this: the poor beast, seeing me a few steps from the spot where she had fallen, tore the infant you see here from her breast, and held it out to me with a supplicating look, as if to entrust him to me. And at the very moment she was dying, this mother, shedding human tears, found the strength to proffer on several occasions, the word: Allok, meaning in her language, the child.”
At these words, spoken in a voice quavering with emotion, a more accentuated rumor ran through the crowd; there was some discrete applause. But immediately, from a corner of the hall, a low catcall, and more laughter rose; clearly his detractors were located there.
The uproar became generalized and Murlich was unable to hold back a cry of impatience.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he cried out, “in a century of intelligence and truth, nothing which relates to a soul’s expression, even that of a beast, should ever be scoffed at!”
This sentence, into which the speaker had put all the emphasis he was capable of in the word “soul” applied to a simian creature, released a storm. The race was rising, claiming privilege against those who dared to claim these same privileges for animals. The crowd would not have it, could not understand. They were standing, angry brows moved about in waves. Bespectacled gentlemen, scholars in disarray, shrugged their shoulders, motioning as if to leave. Others argued with great animation, their lanky arms flailing about like marionette limbs. Over these controversies salvos were exchanged. The gang of loud-mouths continued to kick up a shindig. Murlich, at the podium, waited, trying to calm his student who was beginning to lose his nerve under the mounting hubbub.
A few minutes later, under the blue haze of the huge central lighting fixture, the hall was abuzz with voices shouting out impassioned comments. Finally, a relative calm fell. An old man, perched on a bench indicated that he wished to speak:
“Ladies and gentlemen,” this undoubtedly illustrious individual coughed out, “I would ask the honorable speaker…I would ask him that he present us with an immediate, conclusive proof of the intellectual development of these apes. A proof other than that of language, of course. Then we shall be convinced.”
“Bravo, bravo!” voices shouted out.
“I accept, ladies and gentlemen,” Murlich answered from where he stood, but what proof do you wish?”
In the middle of the hall, a man rose, holding a roll of paper his wife, who sat beside him, had just handed him. With a foreign accent, he stated:
“This is a copy of the Schweiziger-Revue, where I saw the photographs…[his wife prompted him]…Gulluliou’s capture, with the death of the she-ape. Show it to the child, see if he recognizes the scene.”
An enthusiastic response. The idea was accepted by all. The magazine was passed from hand to hand to the podium where Murlich, who had understood, cried out:
“But, what you ask of me is so cruel! To show this poor animal the scene of his mother’s murder! O! ladies, gentlemen, you cannot wish such a thing. Find something else!”
New sneers denigrated such scruples. A young lady with very short curly hair spoke up in a sharp voice:
“Go ahead, there’s no danger that he would understand!”
Near the speaker, friendly voices advised him:
“Do it, to convince them!”
Clapping burst out loudly from within the crowd, encouraging Murlich. He took the picture. The crowd was silent, their attentions directed towards the group made up of the man and simian, one standing, the other still sitting, his face worried, his eyes blinking. Great dark shadows on the rear wall spread in gigantic silhouettes.
Murlich was seen to emotionlessly hand over the magazine to Gulluliou who took it two-fisted. Murlich signaled him to look at it.
Close by, the crowd remained quiet; an involuntary dread tightened around
their chests, made their heads throb in the heated atmosphere. From where they were, Alix and Maximin felt they were witnessing some dark crime.
Gulluliou looked at the picture; suddenly he let go of it, raised his head, turned two or three times from right to left. His features were drawn, a hundred creases lined them. Then, his features relaxed, he joined his hands together and before all the lights this grotesque and pitiful child in the pillory of his collar, gave out a little moan.
The crowd shifted uncomfortably. Gulluliou brought his hands to his face, which he suddenly hid. The crowd stifled a sigh. Between the simian’s black fingers, one could see something sparkle. In the profound silence which ensued, the crowd remained motionless, breathless with emotion.
The little ape had recognized and remembered. And he cried.
CHAPTER IV
The four walls were painted in light colors; muslin drapes framed the window. In one corner there was a low cot whose tight covers displayed yellow and red stripes; necklaces of stones and shells were hung here and there throughout. A tall dry palm branch was strung up over the hot air duct, which made it sling back and forth, as it once had in a warm wind. There prevailed the bare, virginal atmosphere of a child’s room—of Gulluliou’s room.
Gulluliou, sitting lazily, one arm dangling, stretched out the other to Dr. Darembert, who, feeling for a pulse, nodded his head and asked Murlich:
“Has he been coughing long?”
“Doctor…”
“Why, yes…he’s running a temperature.” He leaned over onto a chest taken with a fit of wheezing. “Some obstruction on the right.”
“Doctor,” said Murlich, “I began to notice his coughing some eight days ago; but I didn’t think it would last.”
“Where does it hurt?” he asked Gulluliou, in pongo.
The ape, whose fever-glossed eyes awoke, showed his back. The doctor nodded once more:
The Missing Link and Other Tales of Ape-Men Page 21
