ABSTRACT
Frodo and I had not seen each other in more than a decade. I had no expectation that he might remember me. I was just one of dozens of researchers who had spent time with the chimpanzees of Gombe National Park, Tanzania since the early 1990s. My research had been about the hunting behavior of the chimpanzees, and since Frodo was the most avid, fearless, and successful hunter of the Kasakela chimpanzee community, I had spent more hours in his company than with any other chimpanzee. Frodo also had a well-known habit of getting physical with the researchers. This is highly unusual; when we accustom wild primates to our presence, our goal is to be accepted as a neutral part of the landscape so we can quietly watch the goings-on in their lives. As Frodo grew up surrounded by human observers, he became quite fearless of them, and as he reached adulthood, he began to bully researchers and tourists. I had endured countless slaps, charges, and one memorable and scary encounter in which he had knocked me down, then briefly groomed my hair as I laid curled up defensively on the ground. Given our history, Frodo was not a chimpanzee easily forgotten.
