THE MONKEY MOTHER.
Now you will, perhaps, imagine that Guapo, having sat so quiet during
all this scene, had no desire for a bit of roast-monkey to supper. In
that fancy, then, you would be quite astray from the truth. Guapo had a
_strong_ desire to eat roast marimonda that very night; and, had he not
been held back by Don Pablo, he would never have allowed the monkeys to
get quietly out of the zamang--for it being an isolated tree, it would
have afforded him a capital opportunity of "treeing" them. His blow-gun
had been causing his fingers to itch all the time; and as soon as Don
Pablo and the rest were satisfied with observing the monkeys, Guapo set
out, blow-gun, in hand, followed by Leon.
There was no cover by which he might approach the group; and, therefore,
no course was left for him but to run up as quickly forward as possible,
and take his chance of getting a shot as they made off.
This course he pursued; but, before he was within anything like fair
range, the monkeys, uttering their shrill screams, scampered over the
open ground, much faster than before, and took to the grove, from which
they had approached the spot.
Guapo followed at a slashing pace, and was soon under the trees, Leon at
his heels. Here they were met by a shower of sticks, pieces of bark,
half-eaten "peaches," and something that was far less pleasant to their
olfactory nerves! All these came from the tops of the trees--the very
tallest ones--to which the monkeys had retreated, and where they were
now hidden among the llianas and leaves.
You may fancy that it is easy to pursue a troop of monkeys in a forest.
But it is not easy--in most cases it is not _possible_. The tangled
underwood below puts a stop to the chase at once, as the monkeys can
make their way through the branches above much quicker than the hunter
can through the creeping plants below.
The pursuit would have been all up with Guapo, for the marimondas had
soon got some way beyond the edge of the grove; but just as he was
turning to sulk back, his keen Indian eye caught sight of one that was
far behind the rest--so far, indeed, that it seemed determined to seek
its safety rather by hiding than by flight. It had got under cover of a
bunch of leaves, and there it lay quiet, uttering neither sound nor
syllable. Guapo could just see a little bit of its side, and at this in
an instant the gravatána was pointed. Guapo's chest and cheeks were seen
to swell out to their fullest extent, and off went the arrow. A shriek
followed--the monkey was hit--beyond a doubt. Guapo coolly waited the
result.
A movement was visible among the leaves; the marimonda was seen to turn
and double about, and pluck something from its side; and then the broken
arrow came glancing among the twigs, and fell to the ground. The monkey
was now perceived to be twisting and writhing upon the branches, and its
wild death-screams was answered by the voices of the others farther off.
At length its body was seen more distinctly; it no longer thought of
concealment; but lay out along the limb; and the next moment it dropped
off. It did not fall to the ground, though. It had no design of
gratifying its cruel destroyer to that extent. No; it merely dropped to
the end of its tail, which, lapped over the branch, held it suspended. A
few convulsive vibrations followed, and it hung down dead!
Guapo was thinking in what way he might get it down, for he knew that
unless he could reach it by some means, it would hang there until the
weather rotted it off, or until some preying bird or the tree-ants had
eaten it. He thought of his axe--the tree was not a very thick one, and
it was a soft-wood tree. It would be worth the labour of cutting it
down.
He was about turning away to get the axe, when his eye was attracted by
the motion of some object near the monkey.
"Another!" he muttered, and sure enough, another,--a little
tiny-creature,--ran out from among the leaves, and climbed down the tail
and body of the one already shot, threw it arms around her neck and
whined piteously. It was the young one--Guapo had shot the mother!
The sight filled Leon with pity and grief; but Guapo knew nothing of
these sentiments. He had already inserted another arrow into his
gravatána, and was raising his tube to bend it, when, all at once, there
was a loud rustling among the leaves above--a large marimonda that had
returned from the band was seen springing out upon the branch--he was
the husband and father!
He did not pause a moment. Instinct or quick perception taught him that
the female was dead: his object was to save the young one.
He threw his long tail down, and grasped the little creature in its firm
hold, jerked it upward; and then mounting it on his back, bore it off
among the branches!
All this passed so quickly, that Guapo had not time to deliver his
second arrow. Guapo saw them no more.
The Indian, however, was not to be cheated out of his supper of
roasted-monkey. He walked quietly back for his axe; and bringing it up,
soon felled the tree, and took the marimond mother with him to the camp.
His next affair was to skin it, which he did by stripping the pelt from
the head, arms, legs, and all; so that after being skinned, the creature
bore a most hideous resemblance to a child!
The process of cooking came next, and this Guapo made more tedious than
it might have been, as he was resolved to dress the marimonda after the
manner practised by the Indians, and which by them is esteemed the best.
He first built a little stage out of split laths of the pupunha palm.
For this a hard wood that will resist fire a long time is necessary, and
the pupunha was just the thing.
Under this stage Guapo kindled a fire of dry wood, and upon the laths he
placed his monkey in a sitting posture, with its arms crossed in front,
and its head resting upon them. The fire was then blown upon, until it
became a bright blaze, which completely enveloped the half-upright form
of the monkey. There was plenty of smoke; but this is nothing in the
eyes of a South American Indian, many of whom prefer the "smoky flavour"
in a roast monkey.
Guapo had now no more to do, but wait patiently until the body should be
reduced to a black and charred mass, for this is the condition in which
it is eaten by these strange people. When thus cooked, the flesh becomes
so dry that it will keep for months without spoiling.
The white people who live in the _monkey countries_ eat roast monkey as
well as the Indians. Many of them, in fact, grow very fond of it. They
usually dress it, however, in a different manner. They take off the head
and hands before bringing it to the table; so that the "child-like"
appearance is less perceptible.
Some species of monkeys are more delicate food than others, and there
are some kinds that _white_ monkey-eaters will not touch.
As for the Indians, it seems with them to be "all fish," &c.; and they
devour all kinds indifferently, whether they be "howlers," or "ateles,"
or "capuchins," or "ouistitis," or "sajous," or "sakis," or whatever
sort. In fact, among many Indian tribes, monkey stands in the same place
that mutton does in England; and they consider it their staple article
of flesh meat. Indeed, in these parts, no other animal is so common as
the monkey; and, with the exception of birds and fish, they have little
chance of getting any other species of animal food. The best "Southdown"
would, perhaps, be as distasteful to them as monkey meat would be to
you; so here again we are met by that same eternal proverb,--_Chacun à
son goût._