8
Alpha Falling
1998
New York, New York
It was almost seven o’clock. I pulled the cord out of the phone and plugged it into the computer that I shared with my three roommates. I had told them earlier that I was reserving the computer (and the phone cord) from seven to eight o’clock. I had been anticipating this computer event for several days. That night, on America Online, Koko the gorilla was going to hold a chat with her fans.
I had just recently graduated from college and was working at a bookstore in New York City. I had absolutely no idea what I wanted to do with my life and had moved to New York hoping that something would materialize. Unfortunately, nothing had. That evening, however, strangely enough, watching Koko’s chat would change all of that.
I had been fascinated by Koko ever since reading about her in National Geographic as a child. My interest in apes had only increased over the years and the thought of actually being able to talk back and forth with a gorilla was something I had only dreamt about. Knowing that there would be thousands of other people in the chat room, I wasn’t under any delusion that I would be able to actually ask Koko a question, but seeing the exchange would be almost as good.
This chat was to be a bit of a reintroduction for Koko. It had been fourteen years since her National Geographic cover story. Since Project Koko had begun, she had been introduced to other gorillas. The first was a male named Michael. It was claimed that Koko taught Michael to use sign language. She apparently had taught him so well, in fact, that Michael was supposedly able to recount the death of his mother at the hands of poachers in Africa. It had been hoped that the two gorillas would mate and spawn a sign language–using offspring—taught by Koko and Michael. Hopes for this faded when Koko and Michael wouldn’t mate. It was then decided to introduce Koko to another male. This time they allowed Koko to pick the mate herself through a sort of video-dating arrangement. Koko would watch males on a video and make a sign as to which one she desired.110 The male she picked was named Ndume. Unfortunately, Koko must have had second thoughts because, as with Michael, the two never mated.
While waiting for the computer to connect, I went to the kitchen and poured myself a whiskey over ice. I arrived back at the computer to see that the chat was beginning. It all began smoothly enough. The chat room host started off by explaining how the chat would work. Koko and Dr. Francine Patterson were in a room with a telephone. The host would tell Dr. Patterson the posted question. Patterson would translate the question to Koko in American Sign Language. Koko’s responses would be typed into the chat by a typist who could see what the gorilla was signing. Finally, it was time for the first question. I took a sip of my whiskey and waited. Posed by a user named “MInikitty,” Koko was asked if she was going to have a baby in the future.
“Pink,” responded Koko.
Luckily, Dr. Patterson clarified the response. Apparently she and Koko had just been having a “discussion” about colors and Koko’s mind was still on that. The question was repeated to Koko.
“Unattention,” replied Koko.
To me, this was even more confusing than “pink.” Patterson came on again to help us understand. She explained that Koko was covering her face which meant that pregnancy hadn’t happened and wasn’t going to happen.
A few more questions later (after Koko had responded that the name of her second kitten was “Foot”111), a question was posed that really began to show me the truth about what I was witnessing. Koko was asked if she liked to chat with other people.
Koko’s response was cryptic: “Fine nipple.”
Again, Patterson was quick with an explanation. “Nipple” rhymes with “people” so Koko was doing a “sounds like.” I sat in front of my computer screen wondering how “nipple” and “people” rhyme in American Sign Language. Was Francine Patterson suggesting that Koko was transposing a rhyme she had heard in English into sign language? Perhaps, but wouldn’t there be a better rhyme for “people” than “nipple”? Maybe I had just had a bit too much whiskey and this would make a lot more sense later.
The chat became progressively more weird from there. Toward the end, Koko was asked about her first male companion, Michael. The person asked how she felt about Michael.
“Foot foot good,” said Koko.
What about Ndume, her second companion?
“Toilet,” replied Koko.
At this point, two of my roommates came into the living room and complained about my hoarding the computer and the phone line. I looked at my roommates then looked at the computer screen. Koko was in the process of saying, “Koko loves that nipple drink, go.” I turned back to my roommates, downed my whiskey, and gave up the computer. I was done.
I felt like I had been taken. Koko wasn’t having a dialogue. Koko wasn’t using language. Koko was making random gestures based on the training she had received. It didn’t bother me so much that Koko was speaking gibberish. What I really didn’t like was the way that Francine Patterson seemed to be covering for her. Was she deliberately attempting to deceive the public, or did she actually believe that Koko was using sign language? Either way, the implications were far-reaching. I began to wonder how much of what I had read about apes, or any other animal, was real. From an early age I had immersed myself in reading about animals. As a child, I had a wide range of animal interests. Books about whales, snakes, alligators, and jellyfish were stacked next to my bed. However, nothing fascinated me more than the apes. With this interest, I couldn’t escape the stories of the “talking” apes. The idea of another species that could talk to us in our own language captivated me. I had been fascinated to read about animals like Koko and what she could do. The reports I had read about Koko, Washoe, and other apes supposedly using some form of human language had not just come from popular sources like National Geographic. These projects were actually written up in peer-reviewed academic journals. In one very brief online encounter, I had lost all faith in these reports. All at once, I no longer trusted what I had read, heard, or seen on a show.
Every once in a while we come across circumstances that consume us. These circumstances can take the form of an occupation, a family, a hobby, or an interest. For me, it was an interest in the apes. When we are faced with these circumstances, we look for leaders. We look for mentors. We expect to follow these leaders down a path that will bring us closer to whatever it is that’s consuming us. For me, it was the scientists who had written about apes, the papers I had read, and the animals that they had reported on. We use our mentors as candles to follow in the dark. When we find out that these leaders are flawed, we experience a crisis. The light they once carried for us begins to flicker and fade. We find ourselves left alone; stranded on the path that we had followed them down. We begin to doubt everything about what we had worked toward. At this point, we can stay in the same spot or forge ahead on our own path (and hope that it’s right). Or we can take a third option; we can turn back and begin a new path altogether.
As I plugged the cord back into the phone, I made a decision. I was going to experience for myself the way other animals lived. In particular, I was going to study apes firsthand. I was no longer going to rely on what others were reporting. I was going to see with my own eyes what they could do, how they did it, and what it all meant to their survival. It was this decision that would bring me to an animal park in south Florida.
2000
Loxahatchee, Florida
I stood outside the gates of the animal park, waiting to be picked up by my new boss. Out of the distance appeared a zebra-striped truck. When the truck stopped in front of me, the door opened and a towering figure got out.
“Are you the new keeper?” he asked.
I nodded. I was, in fact, the new keeper. Being a zookeeper was part of the mission I was on—the mission to experience the apes on my own terms. I would go to graduate school and specialize in primatology. At the same time, I would work with chimpanzees as a zookeeper.112 While my classmates would spend their time away from the classroom reading textbooks and articles, I would spend my time directly with chimpanzees. As I no longer trusted the textbooks and the articles, I would read them with an air of skepticism. I would draw the main source of my knowledge out of my experiences with living chimpanzees. Working with chimpanzees every day would give me an insight into their behavior, the inner workings of their groups, and their communication. This was an experience I could only get as a zookeeper. Even field research in the wild couldn’t offer me the same type of constant exposure. By working with chimpanzees every day, I felt that I would truly get to know them.
“Get in. My name’s Terry Wolf. We’ll drive through the preserve on our way to the chimps.”
I got into the truck, moving aside a large net, a box of plastic gloves, and a large fire extinguisher that occupied the passenger seat. Before the door was completely closed, Terry took off. As we drove through the preserve Terry filled me in on the chimp section. He told me how it had all started in 1967 when he was a teenager. The park was looking for a way to house chimpanzees without a cage. He explained how they came up with the idea to put chimps on an island, since they couldn’t swim. When they had finally moved a group of chimpanzees onto the island, they were elated with how well the system worked. The chimpanzees did a really good job of managing themselves. They formed their own social hierarchies and policed their own behavior. With only a few exceptions they raised their own young. In fact, with the exception of food delivery and medical care, these captive chimps were self-sufficient. Part of the reason for this, Terry explained, was that the park allowed them to be free to establish their own political systems. The chimpanzees would accept those they wanted and ostracize the ones they didn’t. Terry said that they tried as much as possible to not interfere in this process.113 When a chimp was ostracized, he or she would be moved to other groups to see if they could be integrated there. So far, there had been a group for everyone. It all worked out for the best because the groups operated like groups in the wild. When there was a strong alpha male, the group was strong. Weaker alpha males led to groups falling apart. He then mentioned the most dominant alpha male they had, Higgy. This alpha, he said, was so dominant that he had never even been challenged. There was something about his demeanor that exuded power and authority.
After what seemed like a long ride, we entered the section of the preserve where the chimps lived. The section was a large field with herds of zebras and giraffes wandering around. In the distance were the chimpanzee islands. As we got closer to them, I stuck my head out the window, trying to get a glimpse of the animals I would be working with for the foreseeable future. I saw five islands and four groups. Terry explained to me that this setup was new. At first, there had just been one extremely large island. Sometime later, the islands were divided. Finally, a few years ago, the park had decided that the chimpanzees should be able to travel from island to island. In order to do this, they placed drawbridges between each island. Each day, the zookeepers would connect the first group to the empty island with the drawbridge. Once they were all safely on that island, the keepers could clean and set up food, branches, and hay for the next group. They would then connect the second group to that island. They would keep doing this until all the chimps had moved over one island. This system had the benefit of keepers being able to clean and set up an empty island, rather than one with chimpanzees on it. This also allowed the chimpanzees to maintain a nomadic lifestyle—something extremely important to their behavior in the wild. The results were cleaner islands and even more wild-acting chimpanzees. When each group ventured onto their new island, they would forage around for food, gather up branches and hay for nest building, and patrol the boundaries.
Behind the islands, the park was constructing a building. This building, Terry told me, was to be an indoor chimpanzee facility. Once completed, we would be able to bring the chimps inside for brief periods of time. This would be the first time that many of them would have ever been indoors. Those that had been indoors before hadn’t been in many years. The park would construct a new drawbridge, leading from the back island into the new chimp house.
As we drove past each island, Terry pointed out each chimpanzee and told me a bit about their histories. Each chimp group was named after the alpha male. First there was the group of retired laboratory chimps. This group, known as Nolan’s group, was led by its highly aggressive alpha. Due to their histories, the chimps of Nolan’s group displayed highly erratic behavior and oftentimes had difficulties in socialization. The alpha male of the next group was named White Ass. Juvenile chimpanzees have a white tuft of hair on their backside. This white patch stays with them until they are about seven or eight years of age. White Ass was so named because, when he came to the park as an adult, he still had the white tuft of hair. After White Ass’s group, we saw Bashful’s group. Bashful was enormous. Terry explained to me that Bashful was in danger of losing control of his group. There was an up-and-coming male named Ian that was constantly challenging Bashful for power. Ian had put together a strong alliance of females and was ready to overthrow Bashful any day.114 Finally, there was the largest group of chimps. That was Higgy’s group. Terry stopped the truck in front of the island.
“Get out,” he said.
Opening the door of the truck revealed the island in full view. In the center of the island, slowly rocking back and forth, was a magnificent-looking chimpanzee. I stepped out of the truck. My boots sunk into the swampy ground. I stared at a chimpanzee who was directly across the water from me and he stared back. I knew, before Terry said anything, that this was Higgy.
Higgy stood up, revealing his immense size, and gave an extremely loud call into the air. At this, the rest of the group emerged around him. From the top of a shelter came a female chimpanzee with an infant on her back. She bobbed her head violently up and down as she shouted at me. Below her, coming out from the inside of the shelter, was the largest female chimpanzee I could have ever imagined. She sat down, hanging one leg outside the shelter, and made a raspberry sound to me and clapped once. From behind the island came a much smaller chimpanzee wearing a burlap sack around her head. Following behind her was a slow-moving male, shaking as he walked. The burlap-clad female approached Higgy and sat to his left. The slow-moving male made it to Higgy a few moments later and sat to his right. As I looked around, I realized that an enormous assemblage of chimps seemed to appear from nowhere around the island. Between infants, juveniles, and adults, there were eighteen chimpanzees on this island.
Terry appeared to my right, holding a notebook full of labelled chimp pictures in one hand. In the other hand was a pair of binoculars. He shoved both at me. My boots sank deeper into the mud.
“Here you go,” he said. “Learn ’em. In a little while, your coworkers will come by on the boat to pick you up.” At that, he climbed back into his truck and drove off.
I stood alone in a large field, surrounded by zebras and giraffes. In front of me were five islands, four of which contained chimpanzees. I looked down at my boots. They were now completely submerged in the ground. I struggled to pull them up but couldn’t. I looked across the canal at the chimps, who were seemingly taking a great deal of interest in the fact that I was stuck. All eighteen silently watched as I unlaced my boots and stepped out of them, leaving them stuck in the mud. Standing in wet socks, I opened the notebook and began to look through the binoculars. My introduction to the chimps had begun.
What at first seemed overwhelming turned out to be easier than expected. With the photos, the chimps were easily identifiable. Along with their pictures, I had their names, birth dates, and who they were related to. Using Higgy as a starting point made it all seem easier. The second chimp I identified was the large female who turned out to be Cindy. Cindy’s adolescent son, Hank, was also easily identified. He looked exactly like her and, like her, was enormous. I watched the two of them interact for a while.
At one point, Cindy and Hank approached a group of females. Using the pictures, I was able to identify these females as Nana, Kathy, and Cashew. Nana was a juvenile, while Kathy and Cashew were older. Both Kathy and Cashew had infants on their chests. I was able to identify Kathy’s infant as Chuckie and Cashew’s infant as Kipper. Cindy walked over to Cashew and hit her hard in the back of the head. Cashew screamed and held her infant tight. Kathy backed up. Nana came charging at Cindy and started hitting and biting her. Cindy, who was clearly big enough to hold her own against little Nana, screamed and covered her head. Seeing that she was cowering, Kathy and Cashew joined Nana and also began beating Cindy. Cindy screamed louder and reached out to Hank. Hank stood motionless for a moment, then started to hoot. He charged at Nana, Cashew, and Kathy. Cashew and Kathy, having infants to protect, ran away. That left Nana and Hank to fight. The two screamed, hit, and bit each other. I noticed that as the fighting continued, Cindy calmly walked away. By the time she had made it to the other side of the island, Higgy had stepped in. Higgy descended on the fighting pair with his hand raised high into the air. This was all that needed to be done. Hank and Nana quickly split apart. Higgy sat down exactly where the fight had occurred. Peace had been restored. Cindy watched from a distance.
About five minutes later, Higgy stood up and climbed to the top of a shelter. He greeted the female with the infant (who had shouted at me earlier) with a low grunt. He laid down behind her. My photo book revealed this chimp to be Gin. The book also showed her to be the mother of Nana, Irene (her infant), Juniper (a three-year-old), and Tonic. I flipped to Tonic’s picture to see if I could pick her out. Tonic’s striking resemblance to Higgy made her fairly easy to identify. She was sitting in the front of the island with her offspring, a one-year-old named Prime. Crawling around in front of Tonic, Prime seemed awfully independent for a one-year-old. While I watched them, Hank walked over and sat beside them. Prime, seeing Hank, jumped into his lap. Tonic stood up and grabbed Prime, placing him on her back. She walked over to the shelter with Hank following her. She climbed up the ladder with Prime on her back toward Higgy, Gin, and Irene. Hank climbed up after her. In moments, all six chimpanzees were sitting together on top of the shelter. Higgy began to groom Hank.
At the front of the island was what was known as “the feeder platform.” On the feeder were buckets filled with fruit, vegetables, and biscuits115 that had not been scattered around the island. This was food that could be eaten all day by the chimps, anytime they got hungry. Sitting on the feeder platform were the slow-moving male and the small female with the burlap around her head. Using the photos, I determined these to be Elgin and Little Mama, respectively.
Little Mama immediately caught my attention. She ate with the burlap around her head. Every once in a while she would look over and shake her hand at me. I’m not sure what she was trying to convey but it seemed friendly enough (unlike Gin’s greeting earlier). As she ate, Elgin sat beside her, staring blankly at the ground with his mouth hanging open. A few moments later he got up and looked in the bucket that Little Mama was eating out of. She grunted at him and moved aside, allowing him to share.
Suddenly something caught Elgin’s eye in the water. It was a banana that, somehow, had been tossed onto a patch of floating grass in the canal. The patch of grass was floating close enough to the island that Elgin could wade out and pull it in. The grass had probably detached from one of the other islands where a keeper had left the banana. It was a very large patch, several meters long. The banana was at the end farthest away from Elgin. He leapt off the feeder platform and wandered into the water up to his waist. The floating grass was still too far out for him to reach. However, it was still floating toward the island. For about ten minutes, Elgin patiently watched. Finally, the grass seemed to be close enough. Chirping happily and stretching out his arm as far as he could, he was able to grab hold of one blade of grass. His cheerful vocalizations became louder. The grass broke off in his hands. Elgin gave a frustrated grunt and stretched out his arm again. This time, he was able to grab hold of a bigger clump of grass. His chirps turned into yelps as he excitedly began pulling the grass toward him. Even for someone as strong as a chimpanzee, pulling a patch of floating grass onto land is a difficult task. Elgin used all of his strength as he climbed out of the water, onto the shore, and began to reel it in.
As Elgin was busy pulling up the grass, I noticed that the other chimps had been alerted by Elgin’s chirps and yelps. In particular, Nana had climbed off the shelter and was now standing behind Elgin, watching the entire thing. Elgin triumphantly pulled the grass close enough to reach the banana on the other end. When he grabbed hold of the banana, he began screaming with delight. Without a moment’s hesitation, Nana ran up behind him, jumped in the air, kicked him with both feet in the back of the head, and stole the banana out of his hands. Elgin sat down on the ground. Once again, he stared at the ground with his mouth hanging open. Nana, on the other hand, was now eating the banana at a safe distance.
From the top of the shelter came a thundering call. Most of the chimps scattered. Elgin climbed under the feeder platform. Nana, who was far from a shelter, crouched down low to the ground. Higgy appeared, standing at the top of the shelter. He called out again. This time, when he called, he jumped from the top of the shelter to the ground. Landing on the ground he charged at Nana, who began screaming. Higgy ran with one arm raised into the air. When he reached Nana, he slapped her across the back. The sound the slap made echoed through the preserve. Higgy calmly returned to the shelter and climbed back up to the top. Nana sat, hugging herself and screaming.
As the day became early evening, the sounds of cicadas and crickets filled the air. I waited for my coworkers to arrive and pick me up. I watched the chimps wander around the island collecting branches and hay to make their nests. Little Mama made her nest early. She was already sitting in it, watching the other chimpanzees and occasionally glancing over toward me. I noticed how she made her nest. She had neatly woven a bunch of hay and branches together in a perfect circle. She lined the inside of the circle with her burlap sack, then sat in the middle of the nest, her head resting on the back portion. It looked very comfortable.
Inside one of the shelters, I noticed something that I had not expected. Hank, Cashew, Kathy, Nana, and the two infants, Kipper and Chuckie, were all sitting together. Nana was grooming Hank. Remembering what had occurred earlier, I was intrigued. The grooming that was occurring after their fight was establishing an alliance. Though they had violently fought earlier, they were now in the process of reconciling, which would strengthen the bond between the three of them. The fact that Nana was grooming Hank had additional ramifications. Hank had shown himself to be dominant. It was up to Nana to do the reconciling. Hank had confirmed his place with her. The fact that Cashew and Kathy were also sitting with them was a sign that they had all reconciled. I wondered if they would also begin to groom Hank. I looked over at the other end of the island. Cindy was watching the same thing I was watching. I began to wonder if this was her intention all along.
A boat, carrying my coworkers, came from around the island to pick me up. When they arrived, I walked over to my boots, and with great force, pulled them from the mud. With boots in hand, I stepped into the boat and was carried away from Higgy’s group. I was already looking forward to arriving there the next day.
Over the course of the next several weeks, I learned my routine. It was fairly simple. I would propel my boat over to an empty island with big buckets of food. In order to move the boat, I would use a large gondola pole (this gave me more control over the boat than an oar). Once I reached the empty island, I would spend the next hour picking up chimpanzee feces and raking up old hay. I would then scatter some food around the island and leave the rest in buckets on the feeder platform. After spreading hay and branches around, I would get back in my boat and leave the island. I would then connect two islands by swinging open the drawbridge and let a group of chimps onto the newly cleaned island. This drawbridge portion of the routine was not as easy as it sounds.
In order to open the drawbridge, I had to pole the boat over to the bridge pulley crank, which was in the middle of the water. The crank was attached by cables to the bridge. Because chimpanzees are really good at walking across things like cables, the crank can be a dangerous place to be. As soon as I opened the bridge, I was exposed to them. For this reason, my boat was attached to a rope that a coworker could hold on the shore. If any of the chimps decided to come charging down the cable, my coworker could pull me and the boat backward, very quickly, away from the crank.
The first time I opened the bridge, I had been warned about this. I was instructed to pay special attention to Gin, who frequently tried to attack zookeepers by running down the cable. I kept this in mind as I climbed into the boat and threw the coil of rope to my coworker. I poled closer to the crank with Higgy’s group watching me. When I reached the crank, I looked over at the group waiting to cross. Gin was moving her head up and down wildly. Cindy sat in front. I was obviously taking too long for Cindy because she clapped very loudly at me. Slowly, I turned the crank and connected the two islands with the bridge. Before it was completely in place, Nana jumped on it. This startled me but I kept turning the crank to put the bridge into place.
The group was actually very uniform, at first, in crossing the bridge. With the exception of Nana, who was already on the other island eating, they crossed in a single-file line. Higgy waited to cross until most everyone was safely on the bridge. The only exception to this was Elgin, who was too far behind for Higgy to wait for. In fact, Elgin appeared to not even notice that the bridge had been extended. I watched as Gin crossed the bridge. She stopped right in the middle of the bridge, where the pulley cables were connected. I braced myself. She extended her arm toward me and shouted. I got ready to push myself away from the controls. She lowered her arm and crossed over to the other island. I breathed a sigh of relief. Soon, everyone except Elgin was on the other island. I called to Elgin. He was sitting in the middle of the island, looking away. I clapped loudly. This alerted him and he slowly got up. I looked over at the other chimps on the other island. Everyone was wandering around the island and eating. I turned back to Elgin. He was slowly coming closer to the bridge. I called and clapped to try to get him to move faster, but it was of no use.
Just then, my coworker shouted at me. I had taken my eyes off the other island and the other side of the bridge for too long. I turned away from Elgin and looked at the bridge to find Nana running down the cable at me. Gulping, I felt my coworker pull the boat back. Unfortunately, I was still gripping the crank. The boat slid out from under my feet, leaving me hanging on the crank, suspended over the water. There was absolutely nothing good about my predicament.
“Let go!” my coworker shouted.
Nana was now face-to-face with me. Her mouth was open and she was screaming. I let go of the crank and sank into the water. When I came up for air, Nana was sitting on the crank, turning it, and making the bridge go back and forth. Elgin, who had finally made it over to the bridge, wanted to join in the fun. He grabbed his end of the bridge and began lifting it up and down. I wondered if the bridge was strong enough to endure all of this. Pretty soon, there was a whole group of chimps jumping and playing on the bridge. Many of them took turns shouting at me in the water.
I swam over to my boat (which was now all the way back at the mainland). I climbed in the boat and took a look at the mess I had created. I had no idea how I was going to get all of the chimps off the bridge and over to the correct island and get Nana off the crank. As I was trying to figure out my next move, I heard Higgy’s now-familiar loud call. Almost instantaneously he came running across the bridge. Within moments, Nana was off the crank and, along with the rest of the chimps (even Elgin), on the correct island. I quickly poled over to the crank and shut the bridge. Higgy had helped me out.
2002
Loxahatchee, Florida
My first couple of years at the animal park were spent getting to know the chimps. I spent more time with chimpanzees than I did with any human. I learned their personalities, their likes and dislikes, and what made each one unique. There were some that I really liked and some I really didn’t. The one thing that remained constant in my view of these chimpanzees was my sheer amazement at Higgy’s dominance. There was a call that Higgy produced that would demonstrate his dominance at any given moment. He would begin with a slow and quiet introduction which would lead into a louder buildup. The climax of the call would entail loud screams and amazing visual displays of him swinging branches or pounding his hands and feet on the ground. At this point in the call, all of the other chimps in his group would join in a chorus of hoots. Everyone participated, even the very young. The call and response almost reminded me of a sea shanty, with Higgy as the captain.
I would also marvel at how much time Higgy would spend with younger chimps. Hank followed Higgy around like a shadow. When Prime could get away from his mother, he too would follow Higgy. I would oftentimes see Higgy, Hank, and Prime sitting together far off from the rest of the group. I would wonder about what they were communicating together.
At twelve years old, Hank was also impressive. One of Hank’s unique characteristics was his dedication to his mother. Anytime that Cindy called out, Hank would leave whatever he was doing and run to his mother. It was strange to see Hank so attached to his mother because he was so enormous.
As the years progressed, I noticed that Hank and Cindy were spending more time with Nana, Cashew, and Kathy. They would all sleep in the same shelter, eat together, and frequently groom each other. Prime would also sometimes join the group. It appeared that Prime looked to Hank the same way that Hank looked to Higgy.
Neither Prime’s mother, Tonic, nor Nana’s mother, Gin, wanted anything to do with this new social group. Gin only wanted to spend time with Higgy. She rarely socialized with any other chimp. Tonic also spent most of her time with Higgy. Even though Prime was young, he was free to spend time with Hank, Cindy, Nana, Kathy, and Cashew because Cindy would act as a sort of babysitter.
The solidarity of this social group was really displayed the first time we let Higgy’s group in the new indoor chimpanzee facility. None of us was quite sure how the group would react to being inside together. Higgy’s group was the second group allowed inside. The first group was Nolan’s group of ex-lab chimps. We felt that Nolan’s group, because of its size, age, and less volatile disposition, would be a better fit for the test group. Nolan’s group’s visit to the house had gone over extremely smoothly and without incident. The chimps calmly walked into the house, took treats from us, and went back out to their island. Higgy’s group, we assumed, would be quite a bit different.
The indoor space was set up in such a way as to allow the chimps as much freedom of movement as possible. If they felt trapped upon entering the house, they would never come back.116 There were six rooms they had access to—three on each side. Between the rooms were sliding doors in the access space. This way, if we wanted to confine a chimp to one room, we could shut the sliding doors. To access the other side, the chimps had to crawl up through a tunnel that extended over the hallway that the keepers could occupy. The keepers were caged away in this hallway with chimps on either side and above them. When we prepared the house for Higgy’s group, we closed off the overhead tunnels (they would be much more easily handled on one side of us and not over our heads). We kept all of the sliding doors between the three rooms open, allowing the chimps to have access to three rooms.
I was curious to see who would go right into the house without fear. I soon had my answer. As soon as the bridge was extended, Elgin, for the first time ever, was the first to walk across. When he entered the house, a keeper gave him a candy reward. Elgin, as always, made vocalizations in celebration of his treat. This prompted a few others to cross the bridge. Cindy started, followed by Hank, Cashew with Kipper, Kathy with Chuckie, Nana, and Prime. The eight chimpanzees were, like Elgin, greeted by a keeper with treats. Seeing that there was another room they could enter, all of them, except Elgin, followed Hank into the next area. Cindy noticed that there was a sliding door at the access way they had just crawled through. She walked over to it and shut the door. The eight ran around their new room, vocalizing and displaying.
The sounds coming from the house were now more than enough temptation for the rest of the chimps to enter. All of Higgy’s group, except for Little Mama, walked across the bridge and entered the house. I went outside to see where Little Mama was. She was sitting with her back to me on top of the shelter. She apparently had no interest in exploring the house.
When I came back into the house, I saw the bulk of Higgy’s group in the first room. In the other room, Cindy sat beside the closed sliding door while the rest chased each other around and played. Higgy noticed that the sliding door was closed and walked over to it. Cindy got up and walked away. Higgy slid the door open and entered the second room. When he was in the room, Hank and the others walked into the third room. Cindy then shut that sliding door behind them, leaving Higgy alone in the second room. Higgy didn’t try to follow them. He didn’t even vocalize. He walked back into the first room.
After the chimpanzees went back outside, I watched as Hank and the rest of the eight sat at one side of the island away from the group. Later, I heard Higgy giving his loud call. During the climactic portion where everyone would normally join in, Higgy vocalized alone.117
2003
Loxahatchee, Florida
Early one morning, while I was cleaning the island next to Higgy’s, I stopped for a while to watch Higgy’s group. Tonic had recently had another baby, named Bamboo. The birth of Bamboo caused Tonic to completely wean Prime. This, of course, was not something that Prime wanted. He would approach Tonic and attempt to nurse. Tonic would gently push him off and walk away. Prime would then scream and carry on. At times, the screaming was so loud and continuous that Tonic would give in and pick up her four-year-old son and allow him to nurse. As time went on, Tonic would stop giving in and would leave Prime to his tantrums.118
That morning, I noticed a new phenomenon. Prime approached Tonic. Tonic walked away. Prime went through his normal screaming ritual. A few moments later Nana picked him up and calmed him down. She then carried him over to Kathy, Chuckie, Cashew, and Kipper and sat him in the middle of them. Instantly, Prime seemed at peace.
Over the next few weeks, I watched as this occurred every time Prime had a screaming fit. The tantrums were becoming less and less frequent. Soon, Prime stopped approaching Tonic altogether. In fact, he rarely, if ever, left Hank’s side. The eight chimpanzees were now a solid alliance. They slept only next to one another. Only in limited instances would they socialize outside of the alliance.
A few weeks later, the alliance was sitting together on one side of the island. Higgy was nearby with Little Mama and Elgin. The rest of the group was on the opposite side of the island. Abruptly, Cindy walked away from the alliance. She wandered over to Higgy who greeted her with a grunt. Cindy stopped and stared at him. She began making low hooting sounds. At this, Higgy stood up, his hair standing on end. The two of them stared at each other for several moments. Suddenly Cindy lunged at Higgy and bit him in the leg. Higgy grabbed Cindy and pinned her to the ground. Cindy screamed. Hank came running over to her. Upon seeing the situation, Hank froze. He looked at Higgy, then his mother. He looked back at Higgy and charged toward him. Little Mama and Elgin both ran to the other side of the island. Cindy silently slipped away out of sight. Nana, Cashew, and Kathy surrounded Higgy and Hank. The two males fought loudly. Both were covered in blood. Gin came running from the other side of the island. Leaping into the air, she tackled Hank. Nana, Kathy, and Cashew piled on top. Prime stood in the distance performing a display by swinging his arms back and forth in an exaggerated fashion. The fighting continued for a few more minutes. Then, as quickly as it had started, it stopped. Hank’s alliance walked to one side of the island. Higgy and Gin went to the other side. Later Higgy received grooming from Gin and Little Mama. Hank was being groomed by Nana and Cindy.
Hank and his alliance had begun an attempt to take power away from Higgy. What had been put into play by Cindy was now being carried out by her son and his coalition. Higgy, the alpha male who had overseen the group since its formation, was about to lose his power. There was no obvious explanation for why Cindy had started this. There was no obvious reason for why an alliance of females rallied around Hank. The only motivation was simply that it was in their nature to overthrow Higgy. It is the nature of chimpanzee groups to change. Hank and his alliances were just as much pawns of nature as Higgy was its victim.
Hank had been groomed by Higgy to be in control since he was very young. Cindy seemingly knew this and used Hank’s dedication to her to force him into action. At a certain point, Hank had been directed as much as he could be directed by the alpha male. It was time to revolt against his alpha male, take what he had learned, and shape his own world. Cindy was there to ensure he fulfilled this destiny.
Soon, Hank stopped needing Cindy’s prodding. He began to accept the ambition that his mother had forced upon him. He began patrolling the island with his alliance. He would take food from members of Higgy’s alliance like Elgin and Little Mama. He would posture and display at Higgy multiple times a day.
Early one morning, I watched as Cindy approached Hank to groom him. Nana was sitting with Hank. As Cindy normally did, she moved in front of Nana to get to her son. This time, something different happened. Nana stood up and postured aggressively at Cindy. Cindy grunted at her. Nana swiped at Cindy. This caused Cindy to scream and reach out to Hank. Just as he had done with Higgy before, Hank looked at Cindy then looked at Nana. He then turned to Cindy and lunged at her. Cindy screamed and ran away. She continued to scream as she sat in the middle of the island. She began jumping up and down. As the minutes wore on, her screams became guttural cries. Finally, Little Mama approached Cindy and put her hand up to her face in an act of reassurance. Cindy touched and held Little Mama’s arm. The two of them walked together over to the other side of the island. Later that day, I saw that Higgy had joined them. Higgy, Little Mama, and Cindy spent the rest of the day grooming each other. Cindy had been ousted by her own son from the alliance she had created.
In a very brief period of time, Hank had gone from being a young follower to becoming an ambitious leader. Unfortunately for Cindy, she no longer factored into Hank’s success. His new alliance didn’t need her. Hank had used all that he could from Cindy. She was a symbol of where Hank had come from, not where he could go. Hank turned his back on his mother. The consequences of Cindy’s scheme had turned against her.
And so, finally, I suppose, he would be able to look upon the sun itself and see its true nature, not by reflections in water or phantasms of it in alien setting, but in and by itself in its own place.
—PLATO