INCONVENIENT MEMORIES.
Up to this time those of the apes who had once been articles of
merchandise in Philip Garland’s establishment gave no signs of
remembering their past treatment, and he congratulated himself, even amid
his troubles, that they did not take it into their apish heads to put him
through the same course of training as he formerly practiced.
This lack of memory was only temporary, however, as he soon had the best
of reasons to know, and never did a man repent more bitterly his attempts
at animal-training than Philip on this eventful evening, while his
long-tailed hosts were indulging in the gayeties of a ball.
The sport was at its height. The partially-clad apes were whirling around
the room, evidently enjoying the dance as much as ever their masters and
mistresses did; and Philip stood in one corner, hidden by the throng,
watching for an opportunity to make his escape through one of the
half-opened windows leading to the front veranda. He believed the apes
had for the time being forgotten him, but in this he made a sad mistake.
Suddenly a large monkey, who had formed a part of the collection sold
to Captain Seaworth’s officers, came close to his old master. Philip
recognized him as one whom he had taught, after much labor and many
blows, to play the banjo, and from the expression of the animal’s face he
understood that further trouble for himself was near at hand.
The monkey scanned him so long and intently that half a score of the
dancers ceased their sport and gathered around, full of curiosity to
learn what was to be done with this specimen of the human tribe.
It was as if the animal had tried to attract the attention of his
comrades. When there was a sufficient number around to prevent any
possibility of the animal-trainer’s escape, the monkey went to that
portion of the room where one of the banjos was hanging, and, taking down
the instrument, thrust it into Philip’s hands as he uttered a hoarse cry
in a commanding voice.
At this moment the other members of the company who had formerly belonged
to Philip’s establishment gathered around in high glee, and there could
be no mistake as to their intentions. As the animal-trainer had taught
his articles of merchandise, so now they were going to teach him, and the
lesson would unquestionably be painful as well as humiliating.
For an instant Philip’s pride prevented him from playing the part of
musician to the monkey-dancers, and he shook his head as if to say it was
impossible. Almost at the same moment he regretted having refused, for
the monkey immediately struck him across the face with the instrument,
dealing such a blow as sent the unfortunate captive staggering back
against the wall.
Again was the punishment about to be repeated, but before the blow could
be delivered Philip suddenly remembered how to play, and, swallowing
his pride as best he could, took the banjo, running his fingers lightly
across the strings.
At this new phase in the game of monkey-turned-trainer Goliah joined the
party, and his memory proved to be even more perfect than that of the
others.
It had been Philip’s greatest achievement in the education of these
animals to form a trio, each ape performing on a different instrument;
and in order that the picture should be correct, Goliah called two of
those who were playing for the dancers to range themselves on either side
of his late master.
Thus behold the youth whose proudest boast had been that he could train
any animal, however ferocious, seated between two enormous baboons,
strumming on a banjo as if his very life depended upon the amount of
noise produced.
It is not necessary to say that this was no enjoyment to him; but it
certainly was to the remainder of the party, and they grinned and
chattered their approbation of the scene, while the one who had first
started the sport stood directly behind the musician, armed with a long
stick.
The unfortunate captive jangled the strings without regard to harmony,
and fondly fancied that this was the lowest humiliation he would be
forced to bear. But his genial captors had a different opinion regarding
the matter.
One of the party whom Philip had taught to climb a pole now seemed to
enter into conversation with Goliah—who shall say that apes cannot
talk?—and a few moments later he and two others left the apartment.
Philip was playing industriously to save his back from the shower of
blows which descended at the slightest diminution of noise, when the
three animals returned with a long, stout pole, and the musician dropped
his instrument, literally dazed with fear and bewilderment, for now
he understood what further sport he would be expected to make for the
entertainment of this long-tailed party.
Was he to be called upon to perform every trick which had been taught
in his emporium of wild animals? If such should prove to be the case,
three days would hardly suffice in which to display all the varied
accomplishments he had prided himself upon teaching, and in that time his
exertions might prove fatal.
Cold streams of perspiration ran down his face, although the ball-room
was far from being warm, at the bare idea of the brutish part he was
called upon to perform.
The pole was there, however, and Goliah’s two old counselors stood close
behind the prisoner, armed with long, pliant bamboos. Philip understood
only too well the purpose for which these whip-like sticks had been
brought.
There was no mistaking the gestures with which they commanded the
prisoner to climb the pole, and from the ingenious way of keeping it
upright one would have fancied they had often performed the same feat for
their own amusement.
Five or six of the smaller apes seated themselves on the floor, holding
the pole at the base. Those of intermediate height grasped it with their
hands a few inches from the bottom; while the tallest—which were the
baboons and mandrills—threw their gigantic arms above the others, and
planted their feet as props beyond the lower class.
Goliah advanced toward the captive with an imperious air as he pointed to
the pole and then to the sticks held by the aged apes. Philip understood
that it would not be wise to hesitate much longer. In fact he received an
immediate and decided incentive to obey.
Just as he was balancing himself preparatory to swinging over the living
pedestal, one of Goliah’s advisers struck him two severe blows, which had
the desired effect.
Enraged, but yet fully realizing the danger of allowing his anger to
display itself, he leaped forward and commenced climbing.
Although he may have been a thoroughly good teacher, it was not possible
for him to practice gracefully that which he taught; and despite his
most frantic efforts to ascend beyond reach of the bamboo poles which
the old apes kept constantly in motion, he could not succeed in climbing
more than a few feet above the heads of those who held the pole. He would
clamber up five or six inches, only to slip back the same distance, or
further, and all the while the lower portion of his body was a fair
target for his tormentors.
He now deeply regretted ever having attempted to train a monkey to climb
a pole, and still more bitter were his regrets that he had used for this
purpose a stout whip with which to belabor his pupils exactly as they
were now belaboring him.
The sport of dancing was entirely forgotten in this new amusement, and
each member of the party seemed to think it the height of pleasure to
aid Goliah’s counselors in their efforts to make matters lively for the
animal-trainer.
He climbed and slipped back, raising himself as the blows grew more
furious, and then, despite all efforts, fell on the heads of those who
were holding the instrument of torture. His trousers and coat were torn
almost to tatters, and his skin scratched and bleeding. He was literally
in rags before a quarter of an hour had elapsed, and so thoroughly
exhausted as to be on the point of rebelling, regardless of the severe
punishment which would inevitably follow, when a lucky accident put an
end to this form of misery.
Under the incentive of blows more severe than the preceding ones, he
leaped upward and at the same time sideways, grasping the pole higher
than before. By this means his weight was thrown at an angle, and the
timber gave way in the middle.
The most comical antics of a clown in a circus would not have called
forth such applause as that which greeted Philip when he fell bruised and
bleeding upon the floor, while the entire company, even those who were
clad in the greatest profusion of fineries, had a jolly game of leap-frog
over his prostrate body.
For a moment he fancied this signal failure would cause his tormentors to
relinquish the one-sided sport; but he forgot that among the animals sold
to Captain Seaworth was his most accomplished pupil, who was now burning
with a desire to do his share toward training the teacher.
Philip had remained as he fell, with his face buried in his arms to
shield it from blows, when a vicious switch across the back caused him to
look up.
He saw before him his talented pupil, for whom he had received an extra
price because of the proficiency gained, comically scratching his thigh,
capering in the air, thrusting his tongue out in a mocking fashion, and
then whirling about on his head with both feet spread apart like a bent
fork. In fact this extremely lively animal was repeating all the grimaces
and contortions which had been instilled into his memory with so many
blows of the whip.
This part of the monkey’s performance was evidently for the benefit of
the spectators as well as Philip. He continued it several moments, and
then, bowing as he had been taught to do when receiving applause, stood
still, making the most imperative gestures to the prostrate youth.
Philip had climbed the pole because of the blows he had received, and
also because such a feat was, to a certain degree, within his power;
but to stand on his head and whirl around like a live teetotum was
impossible. He covered his face with his arms and remained motionless.
This immobility did not continue but a few seconds, for a hoarse scream
from Goliah caused half a dozen of the apes to beat his body as if it
had been a drum, until, knowing he would be pounded to a jelly should he
continue to disobey, he arose to his feet like one who had already tasted
the horrors of the whipping-post.