THE BEGINNING OF HOSTILITIES.
It is difficult to describe the condition of mind into which Philip fell
when the hope which had so long sustained him took flight.
As one in a dream, and hardly more conscious of his movements than a
sleeper, he remained during the next five days in the lower story of the
building.
A most unnatural and unhealthy condition of mind it was; but another
under the same circumstances might have displayed even less fortitude.
He believed death to be inevitable in a very short time, and that it
was an equal chance whether the blow would be dealt by pirates or apes;
therefore, with his sensibilities dulled by the conviction that his days
on earth were few, he passed them as does the brute, and without thought
save for the one supreme moment.
Mechanically he ate, drank and slept, seeing nothing save those objects
which were revealed by the rays of the candles, and it is more than
probable his mind would have given way under the continued monotony had
it not been for the rebellion his body made against this unnatural mode
of life.
His clothes, which had been literally torn to rags during his painful
experience in trying to amuse the apes and his subsequent flight through
the thicket, actually fell from his body, and since he possessed neither
needle nor thread he was almost in a complete state of nudity.
The rainy season, which answers in the tropics to our winter, had just
commenced. The nights were damp, even cold; and it was against this
exposure that his body rebelled. During the first two or three days the
deprivation of natural beverage affected him but slightly. He drank
frequently of the different wines and liquors to be found in the closet,
and therefore was always thirsty. The greater amount of spirits he
consumed the more necessary did water become, and as his body protested
against the cold, so did his stomach and brain cry out against such
stimulants.
That which at the end of the second day had simply been an inconvenience
became absolute suffering as time wore on. His eyes were swollen and
bloodshot; his pulse beat with feverish rapidity, his mouth felt parched
and dry, and the throbbing of his brain was like violent blows against
the skull. It needed but little to deprive him of reason, and yet he
realized not his own condition.
It was while suffering from that which was so nearly akin to delirium
that, hardly knowing what he did he ascended the staircase, took once
more the weapons from the closet and approached the window.
The fever in his blood rendered him irresponsible, and now a conflict was
something to be desired. In his mind came a vague idea that he would end
it all and die fighting. Better such an end than to yield up his life
amid the loneliness of that dwelling.
Piling all the ammunition under the window which was situated directly
beneath the tower, and loading every musket and rifle, a savage glee took
possession of him as he opened the loop-hole.
That which met his gaze temporarily sobered him. The fumes of the liquor
were driven from his brain, and he saw clearly the danger which menaced.
On the day when he descended to the kitchen with the intention of
remaining until death should come to his release there had been perhaps
two hundred apes guarding the dwelling. As he looked forth now, five
times as many were to be seen. To count them was impossible; they were as
the sands of the sea, and equally silent.
Five days previous these besiegers had gathered only insignificant piles
of stones. Now this rude ammunition had increased to such an enormous
extent that it formed veritable hills, placed so close one to the other
that it was as if an army had been throwing up breastworks, and behind
them three men each raised on the shoulders of the other could hardly
have looked over the top. The dwelling, instead of commanding a view of
the surrounding country, was now so inclosed that he was forced to lift
his eyes in order to see the grinning faces which were gazing down upon
him. The house no longer stood on an elevation, but in a valley formed by
these walls of projectiles.
Just within the edge of the woods, where was yet an open space, two large
apes were engaged in a deadly struggle, and Philip watched them for a
moment with a sort of savage pleasure, as if delighting in the brutal
scene.
Then a delirium of fever seized him once more. He was no longer a
reasoning animal, but a brute sunk to the level of those who held him
captive.
Without questioning as to what might be gained by such a course, he
discharged both barrels of his musket into the crowd of those who had
gathered around the combatants, and three fell at the first discharge.
Again and again he emptied his weapons, mowing down long lines of apes,
but apparently increasing their numbers, for as one fell a dozen sprung
to fill his place in the line of battle which was now formed.
In five minutes, where perhaps a hundred had stood, half a thousand were
gathered.
Neither were these new-comers idle. It was as if the report of his weapon
had been waited for as the signal of a general assault, and in an instant
the air was filled with fragments of rocks and stones, until one might
have fancied a furious hailstorm was raging. Pelting against the building
on all sides came the missiles, doing little damage at first; but it was
not possible such a frail structure could long withstand the assault.
Amid the shower of stones were handfuls of sand, as if the latter was
thrown by weaker arms; and, accompanied by grunts and shrieks of the
besiegers, the effect can hardly be described. It was deafening, and at
the same time horrible.
Maddened by continued drinking of liquor, and also by the terrific din
without, Philip kept up a perfect fusillade, until the moment came when
his weapons were so choked and heated that it was necessary to pause.
Not for an instant did the apes cease their attack, however. It was as
if this silence on the part of the besieged gave them renewed courage,
and the splintering of wood from time to time told that some timber had
yielded to their repeated assaults.
One would have said that these animals were well skilled in the art of
war. They advanced by platoons, discharging a volley and falling back to
get more supplies, while fresh troops advanced.
Much as a skillful general might do when his enemy shows signs of
weakening, Goliah appeared on the scene at the moment Philip’s fusillade
ceased, and, urging his followers to greater exertions, flung a heavy,
jagged fragment of rock at the window with such force that the shutter
was splintered, the pieces which fell inside knocking Philip to the floor.
This was the first evidence of what might be accomplished by such a
bombardment, and through this rent in the wall came showers of stones,
until the room was partially filled.
Philip was dazed for the moment by the fragments of wood; but he sprung
to his feet on regaining consciousness, and once more opened fire, this
time from another window. Such a fearful storm of projectiles rained
into the room that he would have been killed before one cartridge was
exploded had he attempted to fire through the breach.
He no longer heeded the condition of his weapons. One musket was used
until the danger of explosion was so imminent as to make it apparent to
his disordered mind, and dropping the useless gun he seized another,
firing with accurate aim, but never diminishing in the slightest the
enemy’s vigor.
The second shutter gave way before the fierce assault. He was wounded by
the splinters of wood and fragments of stone. His face was lacerated and
several teeth were broken. His hands were bleeding, and the upper portion
of his body was bruised and swollen.
The ammunition was becoming exhausted, and he saw with dismay that not
only was it impossible to vanquish the enemy unaided, but also that he
could not continue the battle a great many hours longer.
Hundreds of cartridges had been used; the shells were strewn so thickly
about him that he was forced now and then to stop and kick them away in
order to gain a foot-hold.
Before nightfall two of the muskets had burst in his hands, fortunately
without inflicting any serious injury, and he understood that it was
necessary to cease hostilities on his side until the remainder of the
weapons could be cleaned.
It was when he arrived at this decision that the shades of night began to
fall, and never before, to man, did the going down of the sun give more
pleasure.
Darkness settled over the island. The apes ceased their bombardment, and
victory was for the time undecided.
As a matter of fact, however, the apes were really the conquerors, since
the enemy whose ranks can be continually reinforced must triumph in the
end were he a hundred times less clever and brave than his adversary;
therefore it is that in battle “might makes right.”