A HAPPY DISCOVERY.
The last paragraph which Philip read caused him to leap from his chair in
very excess of joy, since through it he learned that concealed somewhere
in the building—probably very near where he sat—was a collection of
weapons. If only so much as one rifle could be found, he would be
reasonably certain of holding his besiegers at bay, at least until the
provisions were exhausted.
Heeding not the volume, which had fallen to the floor, he made a hasty
circuit of the room, opening closet after closet until all but one had
been examined, and in this last he found that for which he sought.
Captain Seaworth had referred to it as “the armory,” but it must have
been his own private sporting weapons, for there were three fine
fowling-pieces, two rifles, and a large quantity of cartridges made up
for every kind of game.
To buckle on one of the ammunition-belts, fill it with ball-cartridges
and seize a rifle from the hooks was but the work of a moment, after
which Philip felt that at last he was in a condition to cope with a
hundred such as Goliah.
It was hardly possible to exterminate all the apes on the island from the
windows of the building, but he could certainly slay the most vicious,
and having done so, would in a certain measure be free to move around.
Philip now understood that Goliah had taken the place of the mandrill
whom Captain Seaworth killed, and was exercising the rights of leader
over them—an office which they probably respected because he approached
so nearly in size to their late chief. With Goliah and his counselors
dead, however, Philip’s position would be far more safe, if not
comfortable, and using the two chimpanzees as guard, it might be possible
to roam about the island at will. Then he could gather yet more gold from
the subterranean stream, and stow it away preparatory to removal as soon
as any vessel might visit that shore, unless, indeed, the pirates spoken
of in the journal should first make their appearance.
Now that he felt reasonably secure from the apes he began to fear those
marauders of the sea about whom he had read, and he could readily fancy
that to them was due the absence of the colonists. The pirates had
most likely made a raid upon the island, and killed or carried off as
prisoners those who were trying to establish the plantation.
Although this seemed the true and only reasonable explanation as to
why Captain Seaworth and his party had disappeared, it was certainly
strange and beyond Philip’s power to imagine why a more thorough sack
of the buildings had not taken place. That the pirates should leave all
this property—for so far as he had seen the houses were filled with a
plentiful supply of movable goods—seemed incomprehensible; but he was
not disposed to waste much time in these useless speculations. It was as
if he wished to enjoy the sense of security given by the weapons, and
advancing to the window he gazed through the loop-holes into the street.
The besiegers were still in the same places and the same attitudes of
hostility, but they had increased in numbers. From this point of vantage
he counted among the foliage and crouching behind the trunks of the trees
more than a hundred animals, all watching the closed windows with the
greatest intentness, and evidently waiting for an opportunity to begin
the attack.
Philip laughed to himself as he saw the vindictive faces of the apes, and
thought what a surprise he had in store for them, or how useless would be
their attempts to drive him out. But he failed to realize what they could
do in case of an attack, or how fierce might be the battle. The knowledge
that he had plenty of ammunition caused him to look upon these brute
enemies with a certain disdain which was destined to be changed to one of
fear before many days passed.
Leaving his position at the window he took the journal from the floor
and laid it on the table, but without any intention of reading it. He
would have plenty of time in which to pursue the investigation, and was
resolved now to enjoy himself after his own fashion. Besides, he was
weary with sitting still so long, and hungry. A further perusal of the
document which might reveal to him the cause of the colonists’ absence
could be had at any time, and there would undoubtedly be many dull hours
to while away; consequently he was in no haste to finish the captain’s
story.
A spiral staircase from the library led to the rooms below, and he went
into the kitchen intending there to have a hearty meal, for it would be
foolish not to enjoy that with which he was so generously provided.
There was an ample store of candles, and he lighted half a dozen in order
to give the semblance of a feast to his lonely repast.
Since his stay was indefinite and might be prolonged even into months,
he resolved to be methodical in his manner of living. Therefore, as the
first step in this direction, he set about arranging the table with as
much care as if he was to entertain a party of epicures.
Even at this moment, when he fancied his wants were so generously
provided for, came the knowledge that he would be denied water. During
his previous repast he congratulated himself that there was plenty of
wine, and thought this the most pleasant method of assuaging thirst;
but now he was of a different opinion. Although having been deprived of
nature’s beverage so short a time, he would have bartered a case of the
finest champagne in Captain Seaworth’s collection for a single pint of
such water as he had found in the grotto. But this it was impossible to
obtain, and during the elaborate meal he fancied how refreshing would be
coffee or tea rather than the rare vintages with which he was plentifully
supplied.
In the preparation of this meal he had an opportunity of taking account
of the stores on hand, and, as nearly as could be judged, there was
sufficient to last him at least three months; therefore fear of
starvation was not among his troubles.
A hearty meal was conducive to sleep, and being thoroughly the master
of his own time, Philip ascended the narrow staircase to the captain’s
bed-chamber, where, for the first time since the gale which wrecked the
Swallow sprung up, he was able to undress and retire in a Christian-like
fashion.
The unwonted luxury of a soft bed, clean sheets and pillows, were well
calculated to keep him within the borders of dreamland many hours, and
when he awakened the morning sun was just peeping in through the crevices
of the blind in the shutter.
With the awakening came the further and perhaps even greater desire for
water. He was denied even the pleasure of washing his face unless with
wine, and contented himself as best he could by using a dry towel, after
which he descended once more to the kitchen, where he made anything
rather than a hearty meal of canned dainties. He was beginning to tire of
delicacies, and remembered with regret the coarse food from which he had
turned with disgust while on board the Swallow.
It is strange in what a channel one’s fancies sometimes run. Here
was Philip, virtually a prisoner on an island inhabited by apes who
would rend him limb from limb should he venture out of doors, and yet
he was longing ardently for a commonplace plate of hash, and a cup of
the weakest coffee that was ever set before the patrons of a cheap
boarding-house would have tasted at that moment like nectar. However,
neither the hash nor the coffee was to be had for the wishing, and he
ascended once more to the library.
Another view of the surroundings was anything rather than reassuring.
The apes were there, with numbers still further increased, occupying the
same points of vantage as when he had seen them the day previous, and now
each had in front of him, or in a crotch of a tree where he was located,
a little pile of heavy stones stacked up with as much care as if they had
been cartridges, and Philip was soon to learn that they would be almost
as effective as the heaviest charged shell in his collection.
His first thought on noting these missiles was that they were intended
for him as soon as he made his appearance out of doors. He failed
to comprehend how the apes might use them; but all too soon did he
understand.
For a moment he stood undetermined whether to give his assailants a taste
of powder and ball at once, believing a lesson might be beneficial; but
the thought of the unfinished journal restrained him.
“I have plenty of time in which to show what can be done with fire-arms,”
he said to himself, “and it won’t interfere with the effectiveness of
the dose if I wait until the hours begin to drag. Beside, it is to
Goliah that the first instruction must be given, and then that little
ape who made me stand on my head shall be the next to receive one of the
captain’s bullets.”
Thus it was that a desire for revenge had come into Philip’s mind with
the first assurance of his own safety, as it often comes to the minds of
others. We arrogate to ourselves the right to teach, and cloak under it
a vengeance oftentimes as childish as the besieged animal-trainer’s may
seem.