杏吧原创

I found him sipping from an old, slightly cracked but still rather elegant
spode teacup in his cage at Regent鈥檚 Park. Between each swallow he would
smack his lips slightly, look somewhat soulful, and then bow his head slowly,
almost reverently, and take a further drink out of the old teacup. There
was something majestic, if forlorn, about him, an air of times-gone-by and
perhaps too of if-you-only-knew.

We introduced ourselves. He extended his right hand, keeping a firm
grip on the teacup with his left, and gave his name as Denholm Ormsby-Carruthers,
though I鈥檇 been told his name was Jugjug. I mentioned this. He waved the
cup in an expansive gesture but was careful not to spill a drop.

鈥楯ugjug鈥檚 my sobriquet, dear boy,鈥� he said airily. 鈥楲ike some char?鈥�
I said I would, and he fetched another cup.

鈥滷raid it鈥檚 only Darjeeling, old chap. Haven鈥檛 had a decent Lapsang
since God knows when.鈥� I took a big swallow. The effect was like molten
lead blazing down by oesophagus.

When we had both recovered, I from my coughing and gagging, he from
his laughter, he confided with a slow wink, 鈥楤it of the real stuff, dear
boy! Have it smuggled in wrapped in the panda鈥檚 bamboo shoots. Here, have
a bit of the hair of the hyena that bit you.鈥� He poured me some more of
his 鈥榯ea鈥� out of the old teapot and grinned. This time I took a more judicious
sip.

鈥楴ow, about this article by Roger Lewin in the 27 April New 杏吧原创
about this chimp at the Language Research Center in Atlanta understanding
spoken English,鈥� I began. Jugjug smiled indulgently at me.

鈥榊ou mean Kanzi. Mmmm, yes, read the thing. Don鈥檛 believe a word of
it. Now, if the report had appeared in Nature . . .鈥�

鈥榊ou don鈥檛 believe a chimpanzee can comprehend spoken English?鈥� I inquired.
The faintest trace of another smile flickered on his sad, wistful crinkled
old ruin of a face. He looked at me with sympathy and, I could not help
suspecting, a touch of the patronising.

鈥楬erbert Terrace and Thomas Sebeok won鈥檛 have it,鈥� he said. 鈥榊ou鈥檝e
read their papers, of course?鈥�

鈥榃ell, as a matter of fact 鈥� 鈥�

鈥業 mean,鈥� he kindly interrupted my embarrassed confession, 鈥榓ll that
鈥楪et the orange that鈥檚 in the colony room鈥� nonsense. Mean to say, what will
they be claiming next? That the chimps have begun to talk.鈥�

鈥榃ell,鈥� I murmured, 鈥榯he article did go on to mention something about
鈥榓nalysing Kanzi鈥檚 sound spectrum, to see if there is sufficient breadth
to develop into rudimentary speech鈥�.鈥�

Jugjug snorted and took another drink from his teacup. 鈥楽heer self-delusion.
Stands to reason, dear boy. We just don鈥檛 have it up here!鈥� He tapped his
forehead. Then he took a long sip and looked thoughtful. He was silent for
a long while.

鈥楢 chimpanzee鈥檚 life is not all beer and skittles,鈥� he intoned at last,
his brow lowering. 鈥極ut there鈥� (he waved the paw that wasn鈥檛 clutching the
teacup), 鈥榳ell, it鈥檚 chimp eat chimp. None of this cuddly, cute 鈥楥oo-ee,
Mr Shifter鈥� nonsense. It鈥檚 nature, red in tooth and claw.鈥� He sipped reflectively.

鈥楢n ape鈥檚 gotta do what an ape鈥檚 gotta do,鈥� I suggested and took another
swallow out of my teacup.

鈥楶recisely.鈥� Denholm Ormsby Carruthers 鈥� or Jugjug 鈥� shifted slightly
on his haunches and scratched his rump meditatively. 鈥業t鈥檚 war. Every chimp
for himself, with every other chimp鈥檚 hand raised against him. Sauve qui
peut and devil take the hindmost. Margaret Thatcher would approve. I say,
is that a banana?鈥�

I produced the banana from my jacket pocket. Denholm regarded it with
mild disapproval. 鈥榃ouldn鈥檛 happen to have any mangosteens on you, old man,
would you?鈥� he inquired with raised, hopeful brow.

鈥楳angosteens! Here in London? You must be joking.鈥� I saw his brow collapse.
I felt bad, lying to an ape like that. But what could I do? Do you have
any idea what a mangosteen costs? I took another swig from my teacup. It
wasn鈥檛 molten lead any more. More like pureed kindling made from joss sticks.
鈥楲ast mangosteen I ever set eyes on was at The Lone Pine Hotel, Penang,
in 鈥�67,鈥� I muttered.

We sat silent for a while, each with our thoughts. Denholm looked at
the banana a long time before he slowly peeled it and started to eat it
without great enthusiasm. Then he looked at me with his sad, tired eyes
and murmured, 鈥榊ou鈥檙e a bloody liar, Estling. As well as a cheapskate. Harrods
sells mangosteens. So does Fortnum & Mason.鈥� He munched gloomily. 鈥楯ust
because I鈥檓 a bloody ape it doesn鈥檛 mean I鈥檓 stupid.鈥� Then he looked up
and his spirits seemed to rise a little. He grinned. 鈥楰now the one about
Fortnum & Mason? It out-Harrods Harrods. Get it? Out-Harrods . . . Harrods
. . .鈥�

I didn鈥檛 get it. I still don鈥檛. He watched me for a while and then looked
away and sighed. He seemed morose, downhearted about something. I tried
desperately to think of something to cheer him.

鈥榁ery nice cup of tea,鈥� I remarked. 鈥楽trictly medicinal, I take it.鈥�
My witty remark had its effect. He laughed. His reddish teeth flashed in
the late afternoon of a grey day in north London. There was a long silence
while we both drank.

Then he said, 鈥榊ou know Turner? Sunrise with a Boat between Headlands?
Or perhaps the right-hand third of The Fighting Temeraire Tugged to Her
Last Berth to Be Broken Up. I see colours like that. In my mind, I mean.
Colours of the rainbow. Shimmering and vast. Like the first dawn that broke
over Eden 鈥� I mean the Garden, not the chap who presided over Suez.鈥�

We drank. The sun, what there was of it, was setting. It looked like
rain.

鈥楻ainbows in the first dawn over Eden,鈥� he murmured, more to himself
than to me. 鈥楻ainbow of rainbows,鈥� he whispered. 鈥楧ear boy, dear boy.鈥� He
intoned the words over and over, like some ritual chant, a mantra, and slowly
rocked back and forth. He didn鈥檛 seem to be looking at me. I left him then
and tiptoed out of the cage.

鈥楻ainbow of rainbows,鈥� I heard him sigh. It was hard to be sure but
I thought I saw a trickle of moisture running down his cheek. I turned
up the collar of my trench coat and walked away in the steady drizzle.

Ralph Estling is a retired schoolteacher living in Somerset.