MAGOG’S REVENGE.
Within an hour from the time Captain Seaworth and his officers had taken
their purchases to the ship, it was apparent to every employe of Garland
& Co.’s establishment that the baboon, Magog, was in a towering rage.
Had he been able to speak he could not have indicated more plainly his
anger at being thus separated from his old companion; and after that time
it was dangerous for either Philip or the attendants to approach within
reach of the cage.
His fury increased with time, until the most venturesome of museum
proprietors would have hesitated to receive the huge brute as a gift, for
a wounded tiger could not have been more intractable.
Many times before six months had elapsed did Philip contemplate killing
the ferocious captive; but on every occasion when he had almost decided
so to do, the hope that he might succeed in taming him prevented the
commission of the deed.
It was seven months from the day the Reynard left port when Philip
made his last attempt at subduing Magog. On this afternoon he allowed
the ferocious ape to come out into the exercise-hall of the animals’
quarters, and before the lesson was well begun a number of old customers
arrived, causing the merchant to return the captive hurriedly to his
cage. In his desire to make haste the usual precautions were neglected,
and Magog’s eyes twinkled with satisfaction as he noted the insecure
fastenings of his prison.
During the remainder of that day he was unusually quiet, and the keepers
wondered not a little as to the cause of his remarkable docility, for
there was hardly an hour since Goliah had been taken away during which he
did not make the most frantic efforts to escape.
When Philip conducted his customers through this particular portion of
the establishment Magog was sitting contentedly in one corner of his
cage, and the merchant said, in a tone of pride:
“There is a baboon that has given me more trouble than all the rest of
the collection; but I am fast subduing him, and soon we shall have no
more tractable performer than he. Three months from now I will show you
this fellow transformed into the most agile and willing acrobat.”
Again Magog’s eyes twinkled, as if he understood the remark and was
content to bide his time until the plan of revenge which, perhaps, had
been maturing in his mind so long, should be ready for execution.
The wily ape had not long to wait. On that very night, when the
attendants vacated the large hall, which was lined on every side with
cages, they left one gas-jet burning, according to custom, and firmly
barred the door on the outside. This was the opportunity Magog desired.
The bolt of his cage was so insecurely fastened as to be very easily
slipped back; and as if he understood that the slightest unusual sound
might betray his purpose, he stole softly into the hall, looked about him
in every direction until satisfied he was the only one free, and then
turned on the gas, as he had often seen Philip’s employes do.
A wisp of straw from his own cage served the same purpose as a torch such
as was generally used for lighting the other jets, and in a few moments
he had the place brilliantly illuminated, but not in such a thorough
manner as satisfied him.
More straw was at hand. He pulled armfuls from every cage, heaping it
high, until his own was nearly filled, and then, with a savage cry of
what might well have been mistaken for pleasure, applied the torch to
this inflammable material.
In a few moments the entire room was in flames, and the vengeful baboon,
leaping from one point to another regardless of his own injuries, was
scattering fire here and there, until any effort at saving Garland &
Co.’s establishment would have been useless.
When the morning sun arose Philip found himself without employment. All
of the monkey tribe upon whom he had devoted so much time and attention
were now as thoroughly roasted as any African epicure could have
desired; and among these possibly savory bodies reposed that of Magog,
whose revenge had culminated in his own death.
Philip was still young. He had plenty of money at his command, and there
was but one desire in his heart, viz.: to rebuild and restock an animal
emporium which should far excel the one destroyed.
But this could not be done by remaining in New York.
Thus far he had been the largest dealer in animals in the country,
and the combined stock of all the others put together would not have
sufficed to form such a collection as the one just burned; therefore it
was necessary he should search among the jungles and in the forests for
the various specimens of that tribe toward whom all his studies had been
directed.
When one has almost unlimited means at his command, to desire is to
accomplish, providing energy is not wanting, and Philip Garland lost no
time in carrying out what had now become his sole aim in life.
The bark Swallow, four hundred tons burden, was advertised for charter,
and with her owners the young merchant made a bargain for the exclusive
use of the craft during a period of three years.
Then came the labor of preparing cages, putting in stores, fitting the
hold for the reception of the strange passengers whom it was proposed to
bring back, and otherwise making the many arrangements necessary for such
a cruise.
In due course of time all this was performed, and eight months from the
day the Reynard left port with the choicest portion of Garland & Co.’s
collection on board the Swallow was towed down to Sandy Hook. From there,
spreading her white wings, she sped away toward the Malay Archipelago,
from whence she was to proceed, in case a sufficient number of animals
and birds were not procured there, to the southernmost point of Africa,
on her return home.
Of the voyage out it is hardly necessary to speak. The first stop was at
the Ascension Islands for water, and then, passing on within sight of St.
Helena, they made the Cape of Good Hope.
It had not been Philip’s intention to take on any animals at this point
until his return; but the agent of a Hamburg firm had just come down to
the coast with a rare lot, which he offered at prices so exceedingly
low as to make it an object to keep them on shipboard during the entire
voyage.
The collection was made up of a black two-horned rhinoceros, three lions,
two panthers, and three serpents.
The agent had expected to find the firm’s ship in port; but through some
misunderstanding or disaster she was not there, and it became necessary
for him to dispose of the stock at any price rather than remain an
indefinite length of time for the vessel, which might never come.
Philip soon effected a trade upon such a basis that if he should save
either of the animals until his return home the venture would be a paying
one, and the transfer of these unwilling and unwieldy passengers was at
once begun.
The rhinoceros was confined in a pen of wood and iron just abaft the
foremast, where he had very little room to spare, and immediately after
coming on board the huge brute appeared as docile and contented as could
have been desired.
In fact, the entire collection had been brought from the shore without
the slightest difficulty, and after a stay of only two days the Swallow
set sail, making an offing about sunset.
When darkness settled down over the waste of waters the new passengers
began to make their presence known, and from that time until morning no
one on board could have entertained the slightest doubt as to the nature
of this partial cargo, for the howls, roars, yelps and screams would have
drowned the shrieking of the wildest tempest.