"Yes, Morena, monkeys were men once just the same as we are. They lived
in their own villages in nice huts; they had their own chiefs, and spoke
like people do.
"But they became lazy--lazy to hoe their fields and to weed them; lazy
to build their huts and to plaster them. So they said to each other: 'It
is a bad thing to work; let us go to the forest and live there, and we
will find fruits in the forest to eat.' So they went to the forest and
lived there.
"One day one said: 'Are we not tired of making clothes? Let us grow hair
on our bodies that we may be warm always.' And all agreed and grew hair
on their bodies.
"When the autumn came, and the grain in the lands was ripe, the lazy
ones came to steal from the men's gardens. The men tried to watch their
gardens, but the thieves were too clever.
"The monkeys had their servants, and when they wanted food they sent
their servants on to see if there were any men in the lands. If there
were no men there they would steal corn and pumpkins and melons and
calabashes, and carry them away to the forest.
"And if they found a sleeping man watching the fields they passed by him
gently; and when they had finished stealing they would cut some twigs
and beat him severely. And when the man woke up and began to run away,
they would laugh at him and mock him.
"When the monkeys returned to the forest with the foods which they had
stolen, they lit fires and cooked them. Then the people, seeing the
smoke, came with sticks and assegais, and beat some monkeys and killed
others.
"Then the monkeys said: 'It is not good to have fire, for the men see it
and come and kill us.' So now the monkeys steal when the men are not
looking, and eat the food uncooked in the trees at night."
Randall made only one comment. He asked Monga where the monkeys got
their tails from. But Monga admitted that he did not know.
Randall had now finished his skinning, and had made the usual neat
little parcels; Monga brought the box and carefully packed them in with
the rest.
The travelling box was quite full!
* * * * *
A few days later Randall developed black-water fever and died. We
carried his body back to the Station and buried him at the foot of a
large baobab tree. The natives for many miles round attended.
When all was over, and Randall's successor was on his way to take charge
of the district, Monga came to me and reminded me that there were some
monkey skins in the travelling box to be packed away in the large
tin-lined case. As he knew more of his master's strange hobby than I
did, he did the packing whilst I looked on.
When the last skin had been transferred I realised that the case was
quite full, and would not have held another one. This, I remember,
struck me as being uncanny. Between us we soldered up the tin lining and
nailed on the lid of the case.
Then Monga looked at me for instructions. This set me thinking. Why on
earth did Randall collect monkeys? I examined the lids of the cases and
found his name and home address neatly painted on each. Clearly,
therefore, he had intended to take them home. But this did not explain
why he had collected them. I thought of the shabby little black
note-book, so went into the house and looked through it. All I could
gather was that Randall had collected three hundred and eighty
right-armed and one hundred and twenty left-armed skins. Five hundred
wretched monkeys--and what for? And why not two hundred and fifty right
arms and two hundred and fifty left; or why not all right or all left?
I went back to where Monga stood by the cases, and asked him why his
master had collected the monkeys. He seemed surprised at my question; it
apparently never occurred to him to inquire into the why and the
wherefore of any of his master's acts. He seems to have accepted all his
master did or said as a matter of course.
The whole thing was monstrous. I could not send the wretched things to
his people at home. They would think him mad, as perhaps he was as
regards his hobby, but no saner man ever lived so far as anything else
was concerned.
Then I had an inspiration. I ordered a large hole to be dug at the foot
of another tree, which stood about a hundred yards from that under which
Randall's grave lay. Into this hole I had the three cases carried, and
the earth shovelled back. Monga didn't disapprove, or, if he did, he
made no protest. I think he took the whole thing as a matter of course,
as was his way.
I never found out, nor can I imagine, why Randall collected the heads
and shoulders of five hundred monkeys--three hundred and eighty with
right arms and one hundred and twenty with left arms attached.
Someone reading this story may guess or may know. For myself, I frankly
admit defeat.