The New Noah by Gerald Durrell Read Free Book Online

their long, pink noses through the wire. They would be so excited at the idea of a meal, and each one so determined to
get to the food plate first, that as soon as I opened the door of the cage, they would hurl themselves through it, screaming and yelling, knock the plate of food out of my hand and fall to the
ground below with a crash. I let them do this twice, thinking that after the second fall they would have learnt not to rush out the moment the door was opened, but it was no use. They would shoot
out like rockets, the plate would go flying and they would land on the floor snorting and biting wildly.
    Then I would have to pick them up, put them back in their cage and go and prepare another plateful of food. When they were as excited as this, you had to be very careful how you picked them up
as well, for they used to bite at anything and everything within reach.
    At last I grew tired of having the bandits falling out of their cage at every mealtime, so I invented a rather cunning plan.
    I would go to the cage with their food dish as usual, they would cluster round the door, waiting their chance to dash out. Then I would get somebody to go to the other end of the cage and rattle
the door leading to their bedroom. As soon as they heard this, they would think the food dish was being put in there and would scramble off down the cage, screaming and growling, and disappear into
the bedroom. When they were safely out of sight, I had to open the other door; they would realize they had been fooled and come dashing out of their bedroom again. Then, if I had not got my hand
outside, they would probably fasten on to my fingers and hang on for all they were worth.
    These little animals probably caused me more trouble and gave me more bites and scratches than any other creatures I have collected. But even so, I could not help getting fond of them. I knew
they did not bite me because they were nasty-tempered, but simply because they became over-excited and mistook me for bits of a meal. I used to get extremely angry with them sometimes and think how
nice it would be if I handed them over to a zoo, for somebody else to be worried and bitten by them. But when at last that time came and I handed them over to the zoo where they were going to live,
I really felt sorry to see them go.
    I went and took a last look at them in their big zoo cage, and they appeared so innocent and sweet, trotting round on the sawdust, wiffling their stupid looking noses, that I wondered if perhaps
I had misjudged them. I began to feel very sad at the thought of parting with them. I called them over to the wire to say good-bye and they looked so quiet and good that I poked my finger through
the bars to scratch their heads for the last time. I should really have known better. They changed at once from innocent-looking little animals to the screeching bandits I knew of old, and before I
could remove my finger, they had all fastened on to it, in a bunch.
    When I eventually got free, I walked away from the cage, mopping up the blood with my handkerchief and deciding that I was, after all, very glad that somebody else was going to look after them
in the future.

In which I become involved with a number of monkeys
    A great many people, both European and African, used to come to the camp site, to have a look round and see all the strange animals that I had collected. Among these varied
creatures, there were, of course, the monkeys, of which we had about fifty different kinds. Sharing even such a big thing as a marquee with many of these lively animals was an exhausting
experience, for fifty monkeys can create an awful lot of trouble when they give their minds to it.
    Of all the monkeys we had, there are three that I remember best. These were Footle, the moustached monkey, Weekes, the red-headed mangabey, and, last but not last, Cholmondely, the
chimpanzee.
    Footle, when he arrived in the camp, was the smallest monkey I had ever seen, for, with the