The Missing Link and Other Tales of Ape-Men

by Georges T. Dodds

  When our little snack was finished or often when I took my tea or coffee with her, I daydreamed or composed poetry, which I afterwards wrote down. Jocko, my faithful imitatrix did not fail to take possession of the pens I had discarded, and to scribble most gravely on the small pieces of paper I let her have. What would a European have thought of this bizarre exchange. Well! Those incendiary pages, those passionate verses which the public received in so kind a manner, I wrote them beside the female of the wild and fierce pongo.

  One afternoon when I thankfully arrived a few moments earlier than usual, I did not find Jocko at the entrance to the woods. I drew near, listened, heard moans and plaintive cries; followed suddenly by complete silence. I entered the hut and saw the poor creature stretched out on her bed. Her flesh was torn in a number of places, bore scattered spines, and seemed to be encrusted with small fragments of stone.

  I picked her up; for a moment I thought her dead, but she had only fainted. I forced her to breathe and then to swallow a few drops of spirits. When she was herself again, I thought I understood that she had been knocked out of the top of a very tall tree, or that she had hurt herself falling off a cliff. Thanks to the advance preparations there remained some fire near the hut. I warmed up some wine in haste and washed the dear little creature’s wounds. She opened her lovely gazelle-eyes and looked at me caressingly. I mashed some herbs between two rocks and made a kind of compress from them. I made it my duty to apply this to her wounds, which to my great surprise were already covered, at least in part, with medicinal herbs she had chewed up.69 However, she had not pulled out all the spines and fragments of hard materials, undoubtedly because of how painful such an operation would have proven. I took care of it with as much solicitude and tenderness as I could; I securely tied the different compresses using ligatures made from the scarves I kept in Jocko’s chest of drawers. I renewed the banana leaves with which I had covered her little bed, which was now stained with blood. I kept close by my little patient who moaned so softly, yet with such evident pain that I could not help but shed tears.70

  I would have given anything to spend the night with her, but I feared worrying my people, and I did not dare give in to this initial impulse. The poor creature had a burning fever; I felt for her pulse on several occasions as she stretched out her arm with charming grace.71 Finally, when I had to leave her, I placed a folding chair near her bed, put out several glasses of diluted red wine. I prepared water in which I soaked toasted bread, and encouraged her to drink alternatively of the two beverages. I arranged some moss pillows covered in banana leaves. She held my hand and drew it towards her as if to tell me not to abandon her…then she licked the tips of my fingers with her little rose-colored tongue, hot with fever. When I left the hut she gave a deep sigh. The next day I was with her at the break of day.

  I found poor Jocko without fever, but so weak that she could not rise from her bed. She had clearly understood what I had sought to make her understand; she had used all the drinks I had left on the folding chair to allay her powerful thirst, for not a drop remained. She herself signaled in a manner entirely unintelligible to me but which was made clear to me, as we shall see, some days later. She showed me her wounds, cried out painfully, the turned to look towards the little chest of drawers I had given her.

  Not yet daring to remove the bandages for fear of making her suffer too much, and thus to contribute further to her extreme weakness, I gave her a bit of biscuit soaked in diluted wine. She kissed the tips of my fingers, it was one of her normal caresses when she was happy. Finally I left her, having filled her glasses with lightly sweetened water into which I had mixed a few drops of wine. I left, but it is needless to add that I returned that afternoon. She was sleeping. I let her sleep and when she did wake up she seemed very pleased and surprised to see me by her side.

  Given that 24 hours had passed since the bandages had first been applied, I warmed up some water and wetted the compresses with it. Thankfully poor Jocko had only minor contusions to the head, and even though her flesh was cruelly torn, I found no fractures. I had brought cloth bandage and agaric with me. I applied the new compresses and made new ligatures. The fever had completely receded. I gradually adjusted her food; never any meat, I did not wish her to learn of this unpleasant practice; but vegetables, cooked fruit and small cakes she could have. She was dying of hunger; however, fearing I might harm her, I only half-satisfied her hunger. Who would have thought? Even when she was in the peak of health, I would leave a number of edibles inside the hut, making my usual interdictory signs to her, and the next day I found everything as it was, she had not dared to touch it.72

  She seemed to improve imperceptibly and after a few days she could sit up. However, her weakness was still so great that having wished to rise, she fell back on her cot. I sat next to her. From time to time she rested her little head upon my shoulder while I read. When she was hungry, she would draw up close and shake her two little arms as she drew them back towards herself. The next day I decided, as much to entertain her as to see what effect it might have on her,73 to bring a guitar with me. At first she was frightened, especially when she strummed the strings with her fingers. She drew them away quickly, looking behind the guitar with a curious but worried look, then inside, and, as she was wont to do, turned her questioning eyes towards me.

  I took the instrument out of her hands and played along while I sang a Venetian barcarole, and then a lovely romantic piece by Raph.

  Solitario bosc’ombroso A te vien l’afflitto more.

  I cannot portray how surprised and enthralled she was. All her senses appeared paralyzed and she could barely breathe. She knelt down, crossed her little arms and raised them towards me, begging me to continue. Even after I had stopped singing, she continued to listen.

  Suddenly, as if waking from a dream, she struck her forehead, ran to the little chest of drawers, opened a drawer she had some days ago drawn my attention to through her gesticulations. She brought me, O! ineffable surprise! several shells of different colors, and 29 or 30 of the largest diamonds that I had ever seen in my life.74 They were like those found at the foot, and in the crevasses, of Mount Orisa.

  Here the European’s lust for riches prevailed over the man of Nature, exposing his base avaricious nature. I held Jocko between my arms, hugged her tight against my chest, and kissed her with abandon. I brought the diamonds one by one to my lips, to show her my satisfaction, thus imitating her favorite gesture. I held my hands out towards her while shaking them, as she did when she innocently asked me to give her biscuits or cakes. I then moved towards the door, holding her by the arm. She looked at me surprised, and seeing that I repeated the half-begging, half imperative gesture, she took on a sad expression, bent down her head onto her chest, showed me her wounds, sat on the floor, and with an expression which bespoke consternation, rested her forehead against the cot.

  I raised her to her feet and gave her a few of the snacks she liked best and had her drink a little vanilla cream, to boost her strength. I had her sit down, and, notwithstanding how upset I was, once again took up singing her a nocturne and accompanying myself on the guitar. This renewed the naive creature’s original attitude and enthusiasm.

  Pillars of society, armchair philosophers, so-called friends of Nature, here is a man playing barcaroles to entertain a female pongo; how degrading! And yet I felt honored in taking care of her; I thought that in bringing a few minutes of calm, of innocent pleasures to my poor little sick friend I would expiate, at least in part, the urges of sordid avarice which I had been unable to repress.

  Within a fortnight she had entirely recovered. We returned to our evening snacks, our walks, I might even have said our reading, for, as I mentioned above, when I took up a book, she ran off quickly to get hers and imitated my every move down to the minutest detail. Finally, having eaten some fresh eggs and enjoyed our sweets and small cakes, she watched me sadly, and at the least sign she ran off to fetch my guitar and held it out to me. I played, I sang a
song or two, and her enjoyment was just as great as ever. As soon as I was finished she would come and kneel before me, licking the tips of my fingers. Then she would clear the table and put everything away with an admirable dexterity and cleanliness.

  Persevering, as one might expect, in my avaricious motives, I would bring out the diamonds she had brought me, and, right in front of her, kiss and handle them lovingly, dangle them from my clothes, put them away in my pockets with particular care, hoping by my gestures to have my most avid desires known to her. The little creature clearly understood, for she tipped her head and took on an expression of consternation.

  Finally, one day, even though I had come a bit later than usual, I did not find her in the hut; nothing had been readied outdoors. The table was almost always set; she would have made the effort to light the fire in the clearing a few paces from the hut, and to arrange our two seats in their usual spots. I was a bit concerned and waited at the edge of the woods, looking anxiously to right and left. After a half hour, I saw her running up; she was out of breath and seemed overwhelmed with fatigue. She fell senseless at my feet. Her left arm was weighed down with a parcel which appeared to be rather heavy and was wrapped in banana leaves. I grabbed it; the effort it took to pry it from her arms was enough to wake her; she fell upon it, tearing off the leaves. O! a new surprise! I almost fainted myself, when, after having presented me with magnificent multicolored shells, which this innocent creature still seemed to prefer above all, I glimpsed a quantity of diamonds three-fold that of the first set. I raised up my poor Jocko, who was haggard and breathless, resulting either from the trials she had undergone, or due to the great rate at which she had sped through the forest. It was difficult to restrain myself. The past, present and future washed over my heart. O! reader, do you not already know of my emotional life? Might you be convinced that the greedy European played but a secondary role in the matter. Wait! These are not my memoirs I write, but a simple anecdote, a simple account of circumstances in my life, though ones truly of some importance, as they substantially contributed to altering my destiny.

  When Jocko had interpreted my stare and read the great joy, might I say exaltation, expressed in my eyes, she shook her little arms and asked me for something to eat. Nothing was prepared, but I always had a good supply of dried fruits, jams, cakes and of the sweet wines she preferred even over the finest liquors. She ate and drank hungrily. On this occasion she was not injured, but upon examining her I found several contusions on her body; her flesh was wrinkled in several places. Finally, having sat herself down on a folding chair that was lower than mine, she rested her head on my chest and fell into a deep sleep; deep, I say, but not peaceful, for she appeared agitated and moaned softly.

  Lost in my thoughts, I was sad and pensive; a few tears escaped from my eyes, dropping across the sleeping Jocko’s brow. I had just received some letters from Lisbon which led me to believe that my recall was imminent; painful memories awaited me in my homeland. What was I to do with this dear little creature who gave such endearing signs of attachment to me? I had almost forgotten that Jocko only barely belonged to the human race; I thought of her as a young savage which I could only communicate with through gestures and signs, the only primitive tongue, not withstanding what our Hebraic scholars might tell us. It was not a creature similar to me, but rather an interesting copy thereof.75

  The series of observations which her presence had suggested to me supported my views regarding animal instincts, that philosophical branch of Natural History. I had always considered such observations as important and as useful to anyone searching for the truth, as one of the objects most worthy of holding the attention of beings with conscience and thought, as well as one of the boldest chapters of the great book of Nature.

  How often had I regretted that poor Jocko was deprived of speech,76 and that she had no other language but her own ever so expressive features and a limited range of cries to express such varied truths. I had often examined and palpated the sort of inner mandible which formed a pocket on either side of the inside of her cheeks, and I tried to make her pronounce her name. She barely guessed at my intentions, and made incredible efforts, but all in vain; she was only able to proffer the vowel twice repeated and the two vowels in my name. I remember that this weak attempt nonetheless affected me powerfully, but this was short-lived.

  Getting back to the diamonds and the scene where the dear little creature had collapsed exhausted: Jocko, once revived, remained sluggish for a few moments, seemingly suffering from pains in all her limbs. Finally she went as she usually did to get my guitar, watching me with a more touching expression than was usual; one would have thought she read my mind and that she knew the extent of her role in my sadness. Indeed, what could be done? How was it to be resolved? Abandoning her was a barbarity of which I felt myself incapable; taking her with me was undoubtedly the preferred solution. But how inconvenient! Back in Europe I would be unable to take care of her for extended periods of time. I would either have to close her up in my house in the city, or send her to the country where she would necessarily be neglected, were she not to become the servants’ plaything. In the end I could only expect unhappiness or calamity to ensue, with the poor creature nonetheless being the source of the huge fortune which I would enjoy.

  Who would have believed it? I admit to my shame that I tried every which way to make her understand that I wished to know whence she drew all these treasures; but I was unable to do so, and was so hard-hearted as to show my annoyance and allow threats to supplant caresses. O Europe! your cold poisons alter and dominate the heart’s gentler emotions like the froth which rises to the surface.

  My worries as to my poor Jocko’s fate grew from day to day. I watched her, tenderly singing melancholy airs to her. For several days, for fear of what awaited me in my homeland, or perhaps the memory of the sadness which had led to my determination to leave her and take refuge in another hemisphere, I was so wracked with sadness as to be noticed by all.

  Finally, on December 28, 18**, tormented by a secret uneasiness, I left my home earlier than usual; I had provided myself with cakes and candied fruit of those types most agreeable to my little Jocko. I walked quickly, being impatient to arrive. From a distance I heard a sound that was unknown to me…I pressed on. O terror! I spotted some traces of blood. I ran forward and saw an awful snake, which I first thought to be a boa, but later recognized to be one of the great Javanese adders, eight to nine feet long, and known as “yellow and blue” for its tiger-striped skin with transverse blocks of bright blue.77 The monster was engaged in combat with the unfortunate creature, whose limbs were torn and whose body was covered in large wounds from which ran rivulets of blood. I never walked abroad without a two-shot pistol. I aimed straight for the awful reptile’s head. I wounded it, it stopped, coiled up again and drew itself up to launch itself at me; my second shot put it to flight. It went off and died a quarter mile from where this deadly scene had occurred.

  Jocko had fallen to the ground unconscious, not only as a result of her loss of blood, but also as a result of her fear of the pistol-shot, not to mention that which the very sight of snakes induces in individuals of her species.78 I ran to her, took her to her hut, laid her down on her bed. She had, as was her custom, started a fire in the usual spot. I washed her wounds, they were horrendous. As I had the first time, I crushed medicinal herbs between rocks and made a sort of compress. I made bandage strips from my handkerchief and applied strong pressure to the poor wretch’s wounds. I staunched the flow of blood. Slowly I brought her back by dint of cordials and salts. Her pallor was such that to her light tawny color had succeeded a whitish tinge79 which made her resemble an adolescent girl of our species. She opened her eyes, closed them and uttered a few weak groans. No, no, I have no reticence to confess that my tears flowed abundantly. I felt for my poor Jocko’s pulse and eagerly awaited every beat. By their quickening, their intermittence, I expected her to soon be consumed by a violent fever.

  If
only I had had some presence of mind; but alas! could I remain calm under such circumstances? If I could have focused on something other than my hopes and fears regarding the fate of this fascinating creature, what a host of curious observations might I have been led to make, while attentively examining what the poor creature endured: terror, hope, a terrible delirium. One refuses them a soul! Philosophers, rather let us say atheistic doctors, you dare limit and circumscribe the works of the Supreme Creator? Jocko, deprived of the power of speech, made no intelligible sound, at least to us, but how many different emotions were reflected in her features! I was crushed by it. She was suffering incredible pains, and her eyes, animated by the fever, thirsted for my presence, expressing unutterable fear when I drew away for a moment. How could I leave her? However, I was not without being anxious to the potential worry and despair of my people, of all my friends, if rather than returning at my usual time, I spent all night in the forest. Well then! Let them blame me for giving precedence to a pongo female; I only had a moment’s hesitation and uncertainty with which to reproach myself.

  I had taken a step towards the hut’s doorway; a painful cry from Jocko drew me back. I gave her a few sedatives in the hope of diminishing the horrible pains she endured. For a moment I believed her saved, her convulsions ceased, she seemed to breathe more easily, the fever had dropped almost miraculously. “Jocko! Jocko!” I cried out. She turned her little head towards me, looked at me with a soft, caressing expression, made as if to rise, fell back upon her bed, and gave up her last breath.

  Three days later, I left for Europe.

  Léo d’Hampol: The Missing Link

  Through the tinted windows of my work quarters, I distractedly watched the large trees stripped of their leaves, shaken roughly by the wind. The sky was menacing: large brick- hued clouds ran across a clear, bright, almost blinding background. The silence was almost complete. From time to time, however, the sound of steps was heard, muffled by the road’s brown dirt. A shadow passed quickly, then all returned to the torpor of a hushed landscape.