I have already spoken of the diet of the gorilla. Koppenfels once observed a male and female with two young ones when they were feeding. The head of the family remained at his ease, while his wife and children plucked fruits for him from a small tree which stood by, and if they were not sufficiently nimble, or if they took too large a share for themselves, the old gorilla growled furiously and inflicted a box on the ear. The gorilla is regarded as a dreadful and very dangerous animal by the negroes who inhabit the same country, and who themselves are often deficient in spirit, while their tales of exaggerated horror serve to increase their scanty fame as hunters. And what even the luxuriant fancy of negroes could not paint as sufficiently terrible has been exaggerated by Du Chaillu for the benefit of his readers. We will not here repeat these bloodthirsty tales, of which Brehm justly says that they seem to have been devised by an indifferent romance-writer, who has given his pen free play.[111] In the letters to Bastian, which are in my hands, Koppenfels has endeavoured to modify the accounts of the alleged ferocity of the gorilla. This appears in the fragment of poetry given by that esteemed traveller in one of his letters. The same author writes in another place: “As long as the gorilla is unmolested he does not attack men--and indeed, rather avoids the encounter.” These apes generally utter deep guttural sounds, sometimes protracted like _kh-eh, kh-eh_, sometimes roaring or growling. When the animal is scared by man, he generally takes to flight screaming, and he only assumes the defensive if wounded or driven into a corner. At such times his size, strength, and dexterity makes him a by no means despicable enemy. He sends forth a kind of howl or furious yelp, stands up on his hind legs like an enraged bear, advances with clumsy gait in this position and attacks his enemy. At the same time the hair on his head and the nape of the neck stands erect, his teeth are displayed, and his eyes flash with savage fury. He beats his massive breast with his fists, or fights the air with them. Koppenfels adds that if no further provocation is given, and his opponent gradually retreats before the animal’s rage has reached its highest point, he does not return to the attack. In other cases he parries the blows directed against him with the skill of a practised fighter; as is also done by the bear, he grasps his opponent by the arm and crunches it, or else throws the man down and rends him with his terrible canine teeth.