Gorillas are special. In appearance thay are our closest relations. And yet they are shy and vulnerable to the encroachment of man. As the two tribes of Rwanda square up for the next round of slaughter in their civil war, what hope is there for these endangered beasts, the country's most precious natural asset? Despite the work of a generation of dedicated conservationists, they may soon be brought to the brink of extinction by man's latest brutality.
The mountain gorillas of Rwanda, made famous by the brave if obsessive American scientist Dian Fossey (who came to love her gorillas far more than any human), became a symbol for the conservation of endangered species everywhere. Again caught up in a bloody conflict, the mountain gorillas' fate captures our imagination. An entire generation was enthralled by "Gorillas In The Mist", the film based on Fossey's life, which starred Sigourney Weaver.
Last week scientists working with the animals were forced to evacuate their remote camp in the Virunga mountains, the gorillas' last haven. Speaking yesterday from Nairobi the researchers who have cared for these animals sounded disorientated and shocked by their helplessness.
"It's hard to go back to a civilised country and try to live a normal life after you've been living so freely," said Amy Bevis, a 25-year-old from Colorado who had been at the base for two months. "You get to know the gorillas when you see them daily. They are intelligent, gentle creatures - the innocent ones in all this. And there is nothing we can do to help them."
Such helplessness would have been anathema to Fossey. To her biographer, Farley Mowat, she was indefatigable: a martyr of the animal rights movement, a feisty feminist heroine who became a victim of other people's career ambitions. The biography was published in 1988, three years after Fossey was found with her skull split in two by an unknown murderer.
There is, however, a rival interpretation, which does little to further Fossey's reputation. An investigation by Alex Shoumatoff, titled "The Fatal Obsession of Dian Fossey" and published in "Vanity Fair", included allegations that she tortured pygmy poachers, whipping their genitals with stinging nettles and stuffing sleeping pills down their throats.
Fossey's methods, which probably cost her own life, made the gorillas, part of a world population of just 600, Rwanda's greatest attraction. Tourists spend their life savings to see them. Mrithi, the most famous, a 400lb silverback who was filmed rolling around with Ms Weaver, was shot dead while defending his family during the previous civil war in 1992. Ms Weaver was reported to be "profoundly disturbed" by the tragedy.
The prognosis for continued gorilla research is not encouraging. Though it is thought that patrols by Rwandan gorilla enthusiasts may still continue, the Western scientists do not know when they will be able to return.
Ordered early on Friday morning to abandon their mountain base with its 32 Rwandan workers and 320 gorillas, Ms Bevis and her colleagues headed for the nearest town, Ruhengeri, with no real idea of what was coming.
"We got a call telling us to meet but the convoy never showed up," she said. "As we drove through the town we saw hundreds of people running with machetes and clubs. My boss said they were going into the hills to kill the Tutsi. I can't imagine anything more brutal than this killing."
"Most people try to wave you down with their hands," said Ynke Warren, from London, at 23 the youngest member of the team. "These people were waving us down with machetes."
Scientists have been monitoring gorilla behaviour and patrolling for poachers in Rwanda for 25 years. Their work has focused particularly on gorillas' group relationships. Amy Bevis's own study subject, close to every American girl's heart, was the role of the subordinate male.
The latest threat to the gorillas comes from Rwandans fleeing to the mountains thereby pushing neighbouring gorilla clans into each others' territory. A new influx of poachers setting traps for other animals is also expected.
The poachers' traps are indiscriminate and claim two or three gorillas every year, wounding many more. "The horror of watching a sweet, shy male, crawling behind the rest of his group because his foot is crippled, brings tears to your eyes," said Ynke Warren. With no one on hand to release and nurse them, the number of casualties is expected to increase rapidly.
Fossey's story has no uplifting ending. Her research centre, built on a lifetime's blood, sweat and tears, may well never reopen. Ms Warren sighed: "She is probably spinning in her mountain grave."
