A SERIOUS ACCIDENT.
It was only during such times as the work could be pursued that Philip
had any relief of mind, despite his kingly dignities. When, by example,
he intimated that the labors of the day might cease, his subjects
expected him to play the part of ape as heartily as they had enacted the
role of laborers, and in order to preserve his life he was forced to
comply with these wishes.
Holding a court-martial, for the purpose of trying and sentencing alleged
offenders, was the greatest delight of the long-tailed inhabitants, and
once each day Philip was obliged to sit in solemn state, surrounded by
his lieutenants, while the number of supposed culprits brought before him
was always sufficient to furnish the brute dignitaries with the spectacle
of a wholesale flogging.
If any of the party were found idle during working-hours they were
certain of being brought up for judgment, and this fact probably
accounted for the great zeal displayed whenever an example was set before
them.
At these mock trials Philip remained silent, since it would have been
impossible for his subjects to understand any decision he might render;
and Goliah took upon himself the duties of judge, looking up now and
then at the king, as if to make certain he was not assuming too much
power.
After the judicial session was ended the monkeys would separate,
forming bands of two or three hundred, each to go in search of food,
and during such excursions Philip oftentimes found an opportunity to
gain the kitchen unobserved, thus being able to vary the ordinary bill
of fare by some of the dainties which had been so distasteful while he
was a prisoner in the building. Never once, however, was he tempted to
drink any of the wine. The remembrance of the days when he so ardently
wished for water, but was unable to procure it, taught him the strictest
temperance principles.
Every morning the apes held what might be called a grand military review,
the entire body marching in front of the building occupied by their king.
Philip, and those who attached themselves to his person as a sort of
body-guard or staff, reviewed the troops with the utmost gravity, after
which each ape executed marvelous monkey-maneuvers in the shape of ground
and lofty tumbling, in which it was expected the king would take an
active part.
It was at the first of these parades that Philip understood what was
demanded of a monarch. After the main body of the party had turned
somersaults or handsprings all eyes were directed at him, and words were
not needed to let him know he should perform the same antics.
This opportunity of allowing the king to display his agility was never
lost, and after the first exhibition Philip looked forward with fear
and trembling to the moment when he must, before the assembled army, go
through such contortions as would have put a professional acrobat to
shame.
His method of life, as well as his costume, fitted him to a certain
extent for these extraordinary antics, and while he did not succeed in
performing them with the skill and agility displayed by his subjects,
there were plenty of flatterers near at hand to lavish praise upon him as
if he had outdone them all.
And now must be told that which may seem improbable.
Eager for labor, because it brought him relief from close communication
with his followers, Philip set systematically at work, not only repairing
the buildings, but laying out roads from one side of the island to
the other; and this he accomplished with no more assistance than that
afforded by the long-tailed inhabitants.
In less than one month the buildings which had been destroyed were
rebuilt in the most substantial manner with walls of stone. Two or three
additional dwellings were constructed later, and four splendid roads
running north, south, east and west, from the village to the sea, were
opened.
That which would have taken a small army of laborers many months to
accomplish was completed by the apes in a little more than three weeks.
It was only necessary for Philip to begin felling trees on the right
and left of the four lines representing the routes to be opened through
the thicket, when hundreds of pairs of hands were at work pulling up the
underbrush, tearing down shrubs, and chopping at the tree-trunks with as
many axes as could be found in the store-room.
During this work in the forest Philip had ample opportunity of noting the
immense number and variety of spiders and lizards which were to be found
on the island.
It was a positive pleasure for him to watch the little jumping spiders,
which were of such brilliant hue that they looked like animated gems as
they sprang from bough to bough. The web-spinning species were not only
very numerous, but caused the greatest annoyance. They stretched their
webs from one tree to another at such a height as to come in contact with
a man’s chin, and the threads were so strong and glutinous as to require
no slight amount of trouble to free one’s self from them. These fellows
were fully two inches long, with yellow spots on their brown bodies,
which gave them a very disagreeable appearance.
The apes paid little or no attention to these pests; but Philip could
never conquer his aversion to the fat-bellied insects, and more than once
did he make a long detour rather than run the risk of an encounter.
As for the lizards, it seemed as if every bush was alive with them.
They were of all shades—green, gray, brown and black; and even Goliah,
who delighted in cruelty, never so much as harmed one of these active
little hunters, all of whom were busily engaged catching the flies and
mosquitoes, for without such a check to the increase of insect-life the
island would speedily have become uninhabitable.
The work was carried steadily forward, however, despite all annoyances,
and in three weeks from the time Philip Garland became king of the apes
it was possible to sit in the rebuilt tower of the principal dwelling
and view the sea from four different points. Therefore, in case a vessel
approached the island the king would have such timely notice of her
coming that any signal might be made. It would simply be necessary to
start a small fire on the beach to have it built to the height of a
mountain by the industrious apes.
Only in the hope of relief coming from the sea did Philip succeed in
nerving himself to play the part of a brute. If he could have had a
companion with whom to converse, his position would have lost many
horrors; but to be surrounded by apes was worse than being alone, and,
next to the arrival of human beings, perfect solitude was the greatest
boon which could have been granted him.
During the labor of road-making Philip noticed that now and then a party
of apes would leave the working portion of the army and absent themselves
two or three hours, bringing at the end of that time what appeared, both
from shape and size, to be hens’ eggs. These were evidently considered a
great delicacy by the apes, and the searchers invariably handed one to
the king and each of his officers before partaking themselves.
To make any attempt at cooking them would have given the apes the idea
of building innumerable small fires, which might soon have consumed
all the vegetation on the island, and Philip ate his raw, as did the
others. He fancied that some of the colonists’ poultry might have escaped
destruction, and so eager was he to learn where this article of food
could be found that on seeing a certain number of apes abandon their
labors, under Goliah’s direction, he followed. The party went directly
to the sea-shore, and there, just above high-water mark, where a turtle
would naturally make her nest, were found little piles of sand, in each
of which was a single egg.
It was some time before Philip learned that these tiny hills were the
nests of a bird known to naturalists as the “Maleo.”
A few days later he saw a glossy black and white bird with helmeted head
and elevated tail—not unlike a common fowl, except that the bonnet and
the tubercles at the nostrils were longer—scraping the sand into little
mounds, and he knew the rare species was before him.
Some months subsequent to this Philip learned that after the maleo thus
deposits her eggs she follows the example of the turtle, and pays no
further attention to her nest. The sun does the work of maternity, and
the young chicks are able to take care of themselves on emerging from the
shell.
When all the contemplated work had been finished, Philip was at a loss to
know how he should employ the large number of his subjects, in order to
free himself as much as possible from their fawning companionship.
He would have built an observatory on the summit of the extinct volcano
but for the fact that the supply of plaster had already been used in
remodeling the buildings, and it was impossible to quarry rocks of such
size that they would be held together by their own weight.
The readiness with which his subjects copied every movement caused him to
believe it might be possible in the near future, unaided by human beings,
to continue the work already begun on the plantation—provided, of course,
he was not molested by the pirates. This idea came into his mind one day
when they were near the base of the volcanic mountain, and he saw what at
first glance appeared to be a peach-tree.
It was from twenty to thirty feet high, with glossy green leaves, and
bearing small, yellowish flowers at the same time that ripe fruit, not
unlike a peach in size and color, hung upon its branches.
Up to this moment he had supposed an orange was the only tree which
blossomed while the fruit was ripening, and this singular fact showed him
the mistake made in believing it to be a peach-tree.
Picking one of these luscious-looking apples, he found it of a tough,
fleshy consistency, partially split open, and showing within a dark brown
nut covered with crimson mace. It was a nutmeg.
As Philip well knew, the Dutch Government had relinquished its monopoly
of the nutmeg trade in these seas, and he speculated, despite the amount
of gold stored in the cavern, whether it would not be possible, with the
aid of his long-tailed subjects, to make of this fruitful island one vast
plantation of nutmegs, which would be a source of wealth greater even
than the bed of the stream could produce.
Although king of apes, he had the natural desire of man to increase his
possessions, and for a time his fancy painted most gorgeous and alluring
pictures of what might be done if the energies of the monkeys could be
directed into the proper channel.
It was only when he realized the mischievous propensities of the apes
that he decided against this pleasant dream. It was hardly probable he
could restrain them from destroying even fruit which was not palatable;
and he finally confessed to himself, with a sigh, that however absolute
his power, any attempt to change the nature of his subjects would be
useless.
During the one day of rest in which he allowed his followers to indulge
he had been forced to make such a display of his supposed apish powers
as thoroughly exhausted him, and, as the only means of utilizing the
superfluous energies of the army, he set about exploring more carefully
the island.
As may be supposed, his first step was to examine the little harbor where
the pirates had left their sinister warning and in which the Reynard had
been anchored. This was done in the hope of discovering something that
would show under what circumstances the colonists had embarked.
So far as gaining information was concerned he succeeded; but it was
anything rather than satisfactory.
Two buoys floating on the water showed that the anchor had not been
weighed. The cables were slipped when the Reynard sailed, and this fact
convinced Philip that the pirates had left the bay with all possible
speed, believing the apes were reinforcements of men.
This confirmation of his previous theories was a sad blow to the lonely
youth, who had secretly hoped he might have arrived at a false conclusion
when first studying the matter; but it was not long he mourned because
of his friends’ untimely fate, for before that day came to an end he had
grave cause for fear concerning his own immediate safety.
It was on his return from the journey to the sea-shore that Philip had an
opportunity of seeing how wonderfully Nature provides for the wants of
man.
He, accompanied by Goliah and followed by the entire army, marched
through the dense thickets, where not one breath from the sea could
penetrate to dispel the stifling heat, until the desire for water was
almost overpowering. In the hope that the huge baboon might know of a
spring near by, Philip gave evidence of intolerable thirst by pointing to
his mouth and making gestures as if drinking.
Goliah was equal to the emergency. Walking on a few paces he stopped
before a half-vine, half-shrub, which partially clung to the trunk of a
tree and bore huge, bulb-like flowers, shaped something after the fashion
of a pitcher. At the top was a petal which covered an aperture capable of
holding at least half a pint; and tearing this off, the baboon presented
to his king a flagon of water which, although slightly warm, was as
palatable as if it had just been taken from a spring.
This was Philip’s first introduction to the “pitcher-plant,” and many
times afterward did he quench his thirst from these natural reservoirs.
The exploring party returned to the village early in the afternoon. The
king, wearied by the long walk, seated himself near the veranda of the
royal residence, while Goliah, arrogating to himself the high office of
commander-in-chief, called out the troops for a second review.
Philip could not refuse to witness the evolutions nor to take part
himself, and his fatigue was so great that he was even more awkward than
usual.
While cutting the most solemn caper, which was accepted by the apes as a
formal military salute, he heard a slight noise immediately in the rear,
and an instant later the loosening of his single garment of skin told
what a disaster had befallen him.
The hide was split at that place where it had been most used by its
former owner as well as by Philip, and unless it should be possible to
regain the dwelling without turning his back to the troops the most
disastrous consequences might ensue.
Beads of perspiration stood on Philip’s brow as he retreated to a
gigantic bamboo, where it was possible to hide temporarily what the
apes might have considered something more than an accident; and during
the remainder of the review he stood stiff and upright, while his
staff-officers gazed at him in astonishment which was not mute, because
of the chattering they indulged in among themselves.
Philip understood that the first breath of suspicion had fallen upon him,
and instinctively he looked around for a weapon, knowing that Goliah
would not be slow to take advantage of any opportunity to regain the
crown.
A stout piece of bamboo, which had been used during the parade in lieu of
a sword by one of the officers, lay upon the ground where Philip could
reach it without exposing the fracture in his garments, and seizing this
he stood on guard, fully determined to defend himself, even to the death,
in case his counselors or Goliah should insist on his taking part in the
maneuvers. That he would fall a victim to their wrath the instant the
deception was made known by the rent was unquestionable; but his kingly
dignity might prevent the greater number of his subjects from crowding
too near.
In a suspiciously friendly manner Goliah motioned him, when the troops
were drawn up for the royal salute, to advance and go through the
ridiculous antics which he had formerly executed on such occasions.
Philip placed his hand on his head, and then on his stomach, as if to
show that he was suffering from pain. Although the other members of
his privy counsel appeared satisfied with such an explanation, the huge
baboon displayed the most lively curiosity. He walked entirely around the
king and the tree against which the latter leaned, but at a respectful
distance, and then, returning, once more invited the monarch to salute
the soldiers.
Again was the pantomime repeated, and, understanding this controversy
could not long continue, Philip motioned for the troops to resume their
march. He was well aware that because of Goliah’s maneuvres very many
had grown distrustful; but it was something which could not have been
prevented, and his safety lay in reaching the house.
Owing to Goliah’s interference, however, the parade was not dismissed
as quickly as under other and more pleasant circumstances. The troops
marched and countermarched, directed by the baboon, until it seemed to
the king, whose royal robe was shrinking rapidly, that the pageant would
never end.
The fifteen minutes which passed after his refusal to salute seemed like
so many hours; but the soldiers were finally dismissed, and by a series
of the most extraordinary maneuvers Philip succeeded in reaching the
veranda of his dwelling hardly more alive than dead, while clustered
around him, with anxiety or curiosity written on every face, was a vast
throng of apes, foremost among whom stood Goliah, glaring in the most
suspicious manner, as if he fully understood the cause of the king’s
discomfiture.