It is not quite certain from either of these accounts whether the gorilla made his final onslaught in the upright or the quadrupedal attitude. It seems more likely that the former is intended, but I cannot help thinking myself that in the quick rush at the end of the leisurely advance the creature would adopt his usual mode of progression, which is a sort of shambling amble on all fours, but with the fore part of the body so raised above the ground, on account of the great length of the fore arms, as to make it of a transitional character. If, for instance, a man’s arms were so long that he could lean on them when running, and merely stooped a little in order to do so, we should hardly say that his gait was quadrupedal—and this is how the gorilla walks or runs under ordinary circumstances. Du Chaillu tells us that the male gorilla is unmolested except by man, and also that he has never known a full-grown male to retreat upon his approach, or to act otherwise than as recorded in the foregoing narratives. Now gorillas live “in the loneliest and darkest portions of the dense African jungle,” and to many of them man must be unknown till he seeks them out for their destruction. As a rule, when a male is discovered it is sitting with its back against a tree—in the way I have pictured it in my imagined scene of rivalry—whilst at least one female feeds about, in its near neighbourhood. Perhaps there will be a young one sitting on the ground, or clinging to its mother’s breast. Now when, for the first time in its experience, a man intrudes thus upon a gorilla’s domestic privacy, and it rises and advances upon him, for what does it take him? Most probably, as it appears to me, for another and a rival gorilla—thus more than returning the “half-man” compliment paid it by Du Chaillu.