It happened most fortunately at this time that we were within a short
day's journey of a native village, to which, after mature consideration,
we determined to convey Jack, and remain there until he should be
sufficiently recovered to permit of our resuming our journey. Hitherto
we had studiously avoided the villages that lay in our route, feeling
indisposed to encounter unnecessarily the risk of being inhospitably
received--perhaps even robbed of our goods, if nothing worse should
befall us. There was, however, no other alternative now; for Jack's
wounds were very severe, and the amount of blood lost by him was so
great that he was as weak as a child. Happily, no bones were broken, so
we felt sanguine that by careful nursing for a few weeks we should get
him set firmly upon his legs again.
On the following morning we set forth on our journey, and towards
evening reached the village, which was situated on the banks of a small
stream, in the midst of a beautiful country composed of mingled plain
and woodland.
It chanced that the chief of this village was connected by marriage with
King Jambai--a most fortunate circumstance for us, as it ensured our
being hospitably received. The chief came out to meet us riding on the
shoulders of a slave, who, although a much smaller man than his master,
seemed to support his load with much case. Probably habit had
strengthened him for his special work. A large hut was set apart for
our accommodation; a dish of yams, a roast monkey, and a couple of fowls
were sent to us soon after our arrival, and, in short, we experienced
the kindest possible reception.
None of the natives of this village had ever seen a white face in their
lives, and, as may well be imagined, their curiosity and amazement were
unbounded. The people came constantly crowding round our hut,
remaining, however, at a respectful distance, and gazed at us until I
began to fear they would never go away.
Here we remained for three weeks, during which time Jack's wounds healed
up, and his strength returned rapidly. Peterkin and I employed
ourselves in alternately tending our comrade, and in scouring the
neighbouring woods and plains in search of wild animals.
As we were now approaching the country of the gorilla--although, indeed,
it was still far distant--our minds began to run more upon that terrible
creature than used to be the case; and our desire to fall in with it was
increased by the strange accounts of its habits and its tremendous power
that we received from the natives of this village, some of whom had
crossed the desert and actually met with the gorilla face to face. More
than once, while out hunting, I have been so taken up with this subject
that I have been on the point of shooting a native who appeared
unexpectedly before me, under the impression that he was a specimen of
the animal on which my thoughts had been fixed.
One day about a week after our arrival, as I was sitting at the side of
Jack's couch relating to him the incidents of a hunt after a buffalo
that Makarooroo and I had had the day before, Peterkin entered with a
swaggering gait, and setting his rifle down in a corner, flung himself
on the pile of skins that formed his couch.
"I'll tell you what it is," said he, with the look and tone of a man who
feels that he has been unwarrantably misled--"I don't believe there's
such a beast as a gorilla at all; _now_, that's a fact."
There was something so confident and emphatic in my comrade's manner
that, despite my well-grounded belief on that point, I felt a sinking at
the heart. The bare possibility that, after all our trouble and toil
and suffering in penetrating thus far towards the land which he is said
to inhabit, we should find that there really existed no such creature as
the gorilla was too terrible to think upon.
"Peterkin," said I anxiously, "what do you mean?"
"I mean," replied he slowly, "that Jack is the only living specimen of
the gorilla in Africa."
"Come, now, I see you are jesting."
"Am I?" cried Peterkin savagely--"jesting, eh? That means expressing
thoughts and opinions which are not to be understood literally. Oh, I
would that I were sure that I am jesting! Ralph, it's my belief, I tell
you, that the gorilla is a regular sell--a great, big, unnatural hairy
_do_!"
"But I saw the skeleton of one in London."
"I don't care for that. You may have been deceived, humbugged. Perhaps
it was a compound of the bones of a buffalo and a chimpanzee."
"Nay, that were impossible," said I quickly; "for no one pretending to
have any knowledge of natural history and comparative anatomy could be
so grossly deceived."
"What like was the skeleton, Ralph?" inquired Jack, who seemed to be
rather amused by our conversation.
"It was nearly as tall as that of a medium-sized man--I should think
about five feet seven or eight inches; but the amazing part about it was
the immense size and thickness of its bones. Its shoulders were much
broader than yours, Jack, and your chest is a mere child's compared with
that of the specimen of the gorilla that I saw. Its legs were very
short--much shorter than those of a man; but its arms were tremendous--
they were more than a foot longer than yours. In fact, if the brute's
legs were in the same proportion to its body as are those of a man, it
would be a giant of ten or eleven feet high. Or, to take another view
of it, if you were to take a robust and properly proportioned giant of
that height, and cut down his legs until he stood about the height of an
ordinary man, _that_ would be a gorilla."
"I don't believe it," cried Peterkin.
"Well, perhaps my simile is not quite so felicitous as--"
"I don't mean that," interrupted Peterkin; "I mean that I don't believe
there's such a brute as a gorilla at all."
"Why, what has made you so sceptical?" inquired Jack.
"The nonsense that these niggers have been telling me, through the
medium of Mak as an interpreter; that is what has made me sceptical.
Only think, they say that a gorilla is so strong that he can lift a man
by the nape of the neck clean off the ground with one of his hind feet!
Yes, they say he is in the habit of sitting on the lower branches of
trees in lonely dark parts of the wood watching for prey, and when a
native chances to pass by close enough he puts down his hind foot,
seizes the wretched man therewith, lifts him up into the tree, and
quietly throttles him. They don't add whether or not he eats him
afterwards, or whether he prefers him boiled or roasted. Now, I don't
believe that."
"Neither do I," returned Jack; "nevertheless the fact that these fellows
recount such wonderful stories at all, is, to some extent, evidence in
favour of their existence: for in such a country as this, where so many
wonderful and horrible animals exist, men are not naturally tempted to
invent _new_ creatures; it is sufficient to satisfy their craving for
the marvellous that they should merely exaggerate what does already
exist."
"Go to, you sophist! if what you say be true, and the gorilla turns out
to be only an exaggerated chimpanzee or ring-tailed roarer, does not
that come to the same thing as saying that there is no gorilla at all--
always, of course, excepting yourself?"
"Credit yourself with a punched head," said Jack, "and the account shall
be balanced when I am sufficiently recovered to pay you off. Meanwhile,
continue your account of what the niggers say about the gorilla."