rhesus monkeys nearly burst with hatred and indignation. The row
was kept up for a long time, and the monkey language that was lost
to science on that occasion was, both in quantity and quality,
beyond compare.

Bear Language. In their native haunts bears are as little given
to loud talk as other animals; but in roomy and comfortable
captivity, where many are yarded together, they rapidly develop
vocal powers. Our bears are such cheerful citizens, and they do so
many droll things, that the average visitor works overtime in
watching them. I have learned the language of our bears
sufficiently that whenever I hear one of them give tongue I know
what he says. For example:

In warning or threatening an enemy, the sloth bear says: "Ach!
Ach! Ach!" and the grizzly says: "Woof! Woof!" A fighting bear
says: "Aw-aw-aw!" A baby's call for its mother is "Row! Row!" A
bear's distress call is: "Err-_wow_-oo-oo-oof!"

But even in a zoological park it is not possible for everyone to
recognize and interpret the different cries of bears, although the
ability to do so is sometimes of value to the party of the second
part. For example:

One day in February I was sitting in my old office in the Service
Building, engrossed in I know not what important and solemn
matter. The park was quiet; for the snow lay nine inches deep over
all. There were no visitors, and the maintenance men were
silently shovelling. Over the hill from the bear dens came the
voice of a bear. It said, as plainly as print: "Err-wow!" I said