During the latter part of the 1800s, travellers to Cape Town, along the Port Elizabeth mainline railroad, frequently saw a curious sight as they entered the Uitenhage train station.

The signalman operating the levers that set the signals in the control tower was a baboon named Jack.

As strange as it may seem, Jack was an employee of the railroad. He belonged to James “Jumper” Wide who worked as a signalman until he lost both legs in an accident. Wide earned the nickname “Jumper” due to his habit of jumping from one railway car to another and sometimes swinging from railcar to railcar. One afternoon in 1877, near Kleinpoort in the Eastern Cape, he attempted to leap to another car and fell underneath the moving train. The massive metal wheels of the train severed both his legs.

Jumper was devastated. Not only had he lost his legs, but he would be of no use to the railroad. He took a post as signalman at Uitenhage station, where he made himself two pegged legs he carved from a piece of wood, and built himself a small trolley he used to get around. Still, he was limited on how well he could perform his job.

One afternoon he was visiting the marketplace in Uitenhage where he saw a baboon leading an ox wagon. He met the owner who demonstrated how smart the primate was. Soon, Jumper was convinced the baboon could serve him well. He pleaded with the owner to let him have the baboon. The owner didn’t really want to give up his favorite pet, but he felt sorry for the crippled man.

He gave the baboon to Jumper and thus began the most unusual friendship in the railroad’s history. The two lived in a cottage a half mile from the railroad depot. Each morning Jack would push Jumper to work on the trolley. He would push the trolley up a hill and once on top of the hill, Jack would jump on the trolley for a fun ride as it rolled quickly down the other side of the hill. Once at work, Jack operated the signals that instructed train engineers which tracks they would take.

Wide kept an important key in his signal box. It unlocked the points that enabled locomotive drivers to reach the coal-sheds. Whenever a driver wanted it, he gave four blasts on his whistle and Wide would trotter out on his crutches and hold up the key. Jack watched this performance for a few days, then raced out with the key as soon as he heard the four blasts. Thereafter it became one of his duties.

Finally the time came when Wide was able to entrust the signal levers to the baboon. Wide would hold up one or two fingers and Jack would then pull the correct lever. He always looked at his master for confirmation. In the end, the baboon needed no instructions from his master. Jack really knew which lever to operate for each approaching train, and caught the various offerings thrown to him by passengers.

The working relationship between Jumper and Jack worked well and the two forged a strong friendship. Many locals would go to the tracks to see if the story of a baboon working the signals was true. Most marveled at how well Jack performed his job.
He knew the difference between the “home” and “distant” signals, and also the engine whistles; and although he was always under the eye of his master, he never made a mistake or required telling twice. Jack was one of the sights of Uitenhage for many years, and his astonishing feats of intelligence was the wonder of all who witnessed them.

Then one day, a prominent lady on route to Port Elizabeth observed Jack working and was horrified at the prospects of a baboon running the signals. She notified the railroad authorities who were unaware Jumper’s assistant was an ape. At first they did not believe her wild story until the system manager and several authorities visited the station. Jumper and Jack were immediately fired.

Jumper pleaded for their jobs and the system manager agreed to test the ability of Jack. An engineer was instructed to blast his train’s whistle signalling Jack to change the correct signals. Jack made all the changes without fail. He even looked around in the direction of the oncoming train to make sure that the correct lever and signal were changed.

Jack passed his test with flying colours and the railroad system manager was so impressed he gave Jumper his job back and even hired Jack who became the only baboon in history to go to work for the railroad. From that day forward, Jack was known as Jack the Signalman. For his labour, he was given monthly rations from the government but he also received an employment number. In the 9 years Jack worked for the railroad and his legless master, he never made one mistake that resulted in an accident.

Around Jumper’s cottage Jack learned to perform other tasks such as removing rubbish and sweeping the kitchen floor. He also turned out to be a very good watchman. Intruders were greeted by a fierce guard who gnashed his teeth and snarled ferociously to frighten away unwelcome visitors.

Jack died in 1890 after developing tuberculosis.

Eric, once alpha male of the Slangkop troop, will always have a very special place in the hearts of many Kommetjie residents.

Probably the most famous story about Eric, which became the subject of a delightful children’s book called Eric in “It’s a Piece of Cake”, relates an incident in which he was injured and taken to the local vet to be treated.

Some background:  Eric was a regular and stealthy visitor to a local restaurant owned by Vernon, especially on days when Vernon was baking his famous carrot cake.  In spite of Eric’s mischievous and thieving ways, Vernon developed a deep love and lasting respect for him.

You can buy this book and other magical children’s books at www.africanpenguin.co.za

Many people enjoy memories of Eric visiting their properties – sitting quietly with them while they gardened, or sauntering casually through the kitchen and helping himself to whatever was on offer, he was always the consummate gentleman. 
Luckily for him, he lived in a time of more tolerance, both by residents and the authorities.

Eric died at 24 years old, of natural causes.  With the current protocol which allows for the removal of “problem” animals, especially males, it is unlikely there will ever be another male who reaches that ripe old age in Cape Town.

As told by Jenni Trethowan

William of Scarborough was one of my all-time favorite males. He was a huge, gorgeous boy who had a very special bond with his little sister, Angelina.

Originally from the Da Gama troop, when William reached adulthood he left his natal troop and went looking for a new troop to join; this is typical of young male baboons. William challenged Eric of Slangkop for dominance over Eric’s troop and after a long, cunning battle William settled in as alpha male of the Slangkop troop.

Angelina had stayed with the Da Gama troop as female baboons normally do, but two things happened to change her life. When her mother was shot and killed, although she was close to a number of females, she was often on her own. Then she was injured – a bad head injury that entailed some weeks of recovery before she returned to her troop.

Her skull was fractured in 3 places causing temporary blindness, and she twirled in slow circles like a ballerina whenever she tried to stand – hence her name, Angelina Ballerina.

We all searched frantically – only to discover that Angelina had walked across the mountain to join William in his new troop. This was very unusual, but William kept a close brotherly eye on his sister, and she settled in with the new troop.

Sadly, Angelina was one of three young baboons who died of poisoning that year. I know that many scientists say we should not attribute human emotion to primates but I think we can easily see a wide range of emotions in all animals.

Never more so than William; after Angelina died he left the Slangkop troop. This was inexplicable; he was settled as the alpha, and there had been no new challengers confronting him, but he just left. I could only put it down to the fact that Angelina had died.

After a while William appeared in the Scarborough troop where he again gained alpha status. Sadly, William the Conqueror was also adept at raiding houses. Despite the fact that the residents of Scarborough voted overwhelmingly against William being killed, in 2010 he was the second baboon killed under the protocol introduced to reduce raiding.