Biology Reference
In-Depth Information
He studied us for a long time, occasionally glancing off, presenting his profile. He was an adult,
but there was something particularly youthful about him, lighthearted, as if he hadn't taken on re-
sponsibility for his group yet, or simply knew that we were no threat.
The light through the clouds brightened, glittering against the moisture in his hair and fur, giving
him a silver nimbus. He seemed so pleased looking at us that if he'd broken into laughter, I wouldn't
have been surprised. He shook his head and reached up, his body not much smaller than a human's
but more pliable and dynamic, and then he climbed out of sight.
These bonobos had been habituated by trackers who monitored them daily, but they were far
from tame. I had observed chimpanzees at the Ngamba Island sanctuary in Uganda, and their mus-
cular presence and aggressive gazes gave me little inclination to go near them. Signs warned that if
one of them escaped the enclosure all visitors should stand in the lake, since chimpanzees are afraid
of going into water. Alan had told me that chimps made him feel as if he were passing a street gang
and had to avoid eye contact. This aggressive, dominant attitude appeared absent in bonobos, only
the older females somewhat authoritative. They showed little interest in us even as the adolescent
males watched us with wide eyes.
Following the Ekalakala group, named for a nearby stream, we wandered through the forest,
taking pictures. Léonard knew their patterns. Each time he took me aside and told me to wait some-
where, I didn't know what to expect. I sat and watched the forest. Nothing moved. The others had
wandered off, and I became convinced that Léonard was mistaken, that he was telling me to sit there
for no good reason. Then, sometimes fifteen or twenty minutes later, a bonobo appeared almost dir-
ectly before me.
At one point, Léonard suggested that Alan and I wait near a fallen tree, which had created an
opening in the undergrowth where the sun shone into the forest. We crouched for at least twenty
minutes before two bonobos came through the canopy. One swung himself down to the log and
scampered across. But the other made a more dramatic entrance. He hugged the top of a thin tree
and let it bend under his weight until he was upside down and his head was almost to the log. Then
he flipped himself to his feet and released the tree, letting it snap back up. He sat, assuming pose
after pose, looking at the sky, the ground, over his shoulder and back, then just stared off as we
clicked photos.
He appeared deep in contemplation, though I had the sense that he knew exactly what we were
doing, and wanted to be seen in his best light.
