BOOKS BY JANE GOODALL
IN THE SHADOW OF MAN
INNOCENT KILLERS
(with Hugo van Lawick)
GRUB THE BUSH BABY
(with Hugo van Lawick)
MY LIFE WITH THE CHIMPANZEES
THE CHIMPANZEES OF GOMBE:
PATTERNS OF BEHAVIOR
VISIONS OF CALIBAN
(with Dale Peterson)
REASON FOR HOPE:
A SPIRITUAL JOURNEY
AFRICA IN MY BLOOD:
AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY IN LETTERS:
THE EARLY YEARS, 19341966
THROUGH A WINDOW:
MY THIRTY YEARS WITH THE
CHIMPANZEES OF GOMBE
Disclaimer:
Some images in the original version of this book are not available for inclusion in the netLibrary eBook.
First Mariner Books edition 2000
Copyright 1990 by Soko Publications Limited
All rights reserved
For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, write to Permissions, Houghton Mifflin Company, 215 Park Avenue South, New York, New York 10003.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Goodall, Jane, date.
Through a window: my thirty years with the chimpanzees
of Gombe / Jane Goodall.
p. cm.
"First published by George Weidenfeld & Nicolson...
London" Galley t.p. verso
ISBN 0-618-05677-7
1. Goodall, Jane, 1934 . 2. Chimpanzees Tanzania
Gombe Stream National Park Behavior. 3. Zoologists
England Biography. I. Title
QL31.G58A3 1990 90-36974
591'.092 dc20 CIP [B]
Printed in the United States of America
QUM 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
1
Gombe
I rolled over and looked at the time 5.44 a.m. Long years of early rising have led to an ability to wake just before the unpleasant clamour of an alarm clock. Soon I was sitting on the steps of my house looking out over Lake Tanganyika. The waning moon, in her last quarter, was suspended above the horizon, where the mountainous shoreline of Zaire fringed Lake Tanganyika. It was a still night, and the moon's path danced and sparkled towards me across the gently moving water. My breakfast a banana and a cup of coffee from the thermos flask was soon finished and, ten minutes later I was climbing the steep slope behind the house, my miniature binoculars and camera stuffed into my pockets along with notebook, pencil stubs, a handful of raisins for my lunch, and plastic bags in which to put everything should it rain. The faint light from the moon, shining on the dew-laden grass, enabled me to find my way without difficulty and presently I arrived at the place where, the evening before, I had watched eighteen chimpanzees settle down for the night. I sat to wait until they woke.
All around, the trees were still shrouded with the last mysteries of the night's dreaming. It was very quiet, utterly peaceful. The only sounds were the occasional chirp of a cricket, and the soft murmur where the lake caressed the shingle, way below. As I sat there I felt the expectant thrill that, for me, always precedes a day with the chimpanzees, a day roaming the forests and mountains of Gombe, a day for new discoveries, new insights.
Then came a sudden burst of song, the duet of a pair of robin chats, hauntingly beautiful. I realized that the intensity of light had changed: dawn had crept upon me unawares. The coming brightness of the sun had all but vanquished the silvery, indefinite illumination of its own radiance reflected by the moon. The chimpanzees still slept.
Five minutes later came a rustling of leaves above. I looked up and saw branches moving against the lightening sky. That was where Goblin, top-ranking male of the community, had made his nest. Then stillness again. He must have turned over, then settled down for a last snooze. Soon after this there was movement from another nest to my right, then from one behind me, further up the slope. Rustlings of leaves, the cracking of a little twig. The group was waking up. Peering through my binoculars into the tree where Fifi had made a nest for herself and her infant Flossi, I saw the silhouette of her foot. A moment later Fanni, her eight-year-old daughter, climbed up from her nest nearby and sat just above her mother, a small dark shape against the sky. Fifi's other two offspring, adult Freud and adolescent Frodo, had nested further up the slope.
Nine minutes after he had first moved, Goblin abruptly sat up and, almost at once, left his nest and began to leap wildly through the tree, vigorously swaying the branches. Instant pandemonium broke out. The chimpanzees closest to Goblin left their nests and rushed out of his way. Others sat up to watch, tense and ready for flight. The early morning peace was shattered by frenzied grunts and screams as Goblin's subordinates voiced their respect or fear. A few moments later, the arboreal part of his display over, Goblin leapt down and charged past me, slapping and stamping on the wet ground, rearing up and shaking the vegetation, picking up and hurling a rock, an old piece of wood, another rock. Then he sat, hair bristling, some fifteen feet away. He was breathing heavily. My own heart was beating fast. As he swung down, I had stood up and held onto a tree, praying that he would not pound on me as he sometimes does. But, to my relief, he had ignored me, and I sat down again.