to the cage, but had a little light chain fastened around his neck. This operation he resisted with all his might, and it took us quite an hour to securely chain the little fellow, whose strength was something marvellous. Ten days after he was thus chained he died suddenly. He was in good health, and ate plentifully of his natural food, which was brought every day for him; did not seem to sicken until two days before his death, and died in some pain. To the last he continued entirely untamable; and, after his chains were on, added the vice of treachery to his others.” In one of his hunting excursions Du Chaillu obtained a younger Gorilla than the last, but its end was sad enough. “I was accessory to its capture,” writes Du Chaillu, “and we were walking along in silence, when I heard a cry, and presently saw before me a female Gorilla, with a tiny baby Gorilla hanging to her breast and sucking. The mother was stroking the little one, and looking fondly down at it; and the scene was so pretty and touching that I held my fire, and considered--like a soft-hearted fellow--whether I had not better leave them in peace. Before I could make up my mind, however, my hunter fired and killed the mother, who fell without a struggle. The mother fell, but the baby clung to her, and, with pitiful cries, endeavoured to attract her attention. I came up, and when it saw me it hid its poor little head in its mother’s breast. It could neither walk nor bite, so we could easily manage it; and I carried it, while the men bore the mother on a pole. When we got to the village another scene ensued. The men put the body down, and I set the little fellow near. As soon as he saw his mother he crawled to her, and threw himself on her breast. He did not find his accustomed nourishment, and I saw that he perceived something was the matter with the old one. He crawled over her body, smelt at it, and gave utterance, from time to time, to a plaintive cry--‘Hoo, hoo, hoo!’ which touched my heart. I could get no milk for this poor little fellow, who could not eat, and consequently died on the third day after he was caught. He seemed more docile than the other I had, for he already recognised my voice, and would try to hurry towards me when he saw me. I put the little body in alcohol, and sent it to Dr. Wyman, of Boston, for dissection.” Of course all the stories about the Gorilla are not believed, and those of all writers, from Hanno downwards, have been severely criticised.