As a rule, the natives do not eat the gorilla, and very seldom kill one, but this I attribute more to fear than to respect. That great tribe of cannibals known as Pangwe, however, slay and eat him without compunction. This tribe was scarcely known on the coast a few years ago, but they are shifting like the desert sands from the interior, northeast of the Gaboon, to the coast southwest, until to-day they are found throughout the valley of the Ogowe, and as far south as Selle Kama, on the coast. They are the Jews of West Africa, and the life and soul of the trade of this part. They go into the bush for ivory, ebony, piassava, and dye-woods, and carry them for days to find sale for them. They drink much less rum than other natives, and deprecate slavery in all forms, except as hostage; but they are cruel, savage, and treacherous, and hold human life at small value. Up to this time I have not told you of the chimpanzee, which I have long believed to be the social and mental superior of the gorilla. My opinion was based upon a study of their skulls, and I was aware that many great men of science held opposite views; but all the evidence that I can find here, where they are best known, tends to confirm my belief. Every instinct of the gorilla seems to be averse to all human society; he delights in a life of seclusion in the most remote and desolate parts of the jungle, and I have never heard of but one gorilla that became even tolerant to man, much less attached to him, and this one was a mere infant. I have seen a few in captivity, but all of them are vicious, and devoid of any sense of gratitude whatever. On the other hand, the chimpanzee delights in the society of man, and displays many good traits. It is not at all rare to find tame ones on this coast, going about the premises at large, and quite as much at home as any resident. With this short preface I desire to introduce my own young friend, who lives with me in my forest home. He is a fine specimen of the chimpanzee race, and I call him Moses, because he was found in a papyrus swamp of the Ogowe. He is devoted to me, and cries after me like a spoiled baby, and follows me like a pet dog. I do not confine him, so he goes about in the bush near the cage, and selects some of the tender buds of young plants and vines, and returns to me to be petted and caressed. He is a great pleasure to me as well as a great plague, for he wants to hug me all the time, and never wants me to put him down. About ten o'clock every day he comes for a nap, and when I wrap him up and lay him on a box by my side, he sleeps quietly till noon. After a good sleep he climbs on my lap and embraces me with devotion, until I really tire of him. Much of the time I write with him on my lap, and when I put him outside the cage he climbs up near me, and begs and pulls my sleeve until I relent, and let him come inside again. When I leave my cage I usually take him