"Without deigning any rejoinder to the utterly absurd and totally
irrelevant matter contained in the preliminary sentences of your last
remark, I pass on to observe that the natives of these wilds hold the
opinion that there is one species of the gorilla which is the residence
of the spirits of defunct niggers, and that these fellows are known by
their unusual size and ferocity."
"Hold," cried I, "until I get out my note-book. Now, Peterkin, no
fibs."
"Honour bright," said he, "I'll give it you just as I got it. These
_possessed_ brutes are never caught, and can't be killed. (I only hope
I may get the chance to try whether that be true or not.) They often
carry off natives into the woods, where they pull out their toe and
finger nails by the roots and then let them go; and they are said to be
uncommonly fond of sugar-cane, which they steal from the fields of the
natives sometimes in a very daring manner."
"Is that all?" said I.
"All!" exclaimed my comrade. "How much more would you have? Do you
suppose that the gorilla can do anything it likes--hang by its tail from
the moon, or sit down on its nose and run round on its chin?"
"Massa Jack," said Makarooroo, entering the hut and interrupting our
conversation at this point, "de chief hims tell to me for to tell to you
dat w'en you's be fit for go-hid agin hims gib you cottle for sit upon."
"Cottle, Mak! what's _cottle_?" inquired Jack, with a puzzled look.
"Ho, massa, you know bery well; jist cottle--hoxes, you know."
"Indeed, I don't know," replied Jack, still more puzzled.
"I've no doubt," interposed Peterkin, "that he means cuttle, which is
the short name for cuttle-fish, which, in such an inland place as this,
must of course be hoaxes! But what do you mean, Mak? Describe the
thing to us."
Mak scratched his woolly pate, as if he were quite unable to explain
himself.
"O massas, you be most stoopid dis yer day. Cottle not a ting; hims am
a beast, wid two horn an' one tail. Dere," said he, pointing with
animation to a herd of cattle that grazed near our hut, "dat's cottle,
or hoxes."
We all laughed at this proposal.
"What!" cried Jack, "does he mean us to ride upon `hoxes' as if they
were horses?"
"Yis, massa, hims say dat. Hims hear long ago ob one missionary as hab
do dat; so de chief he tink it bery good idea, an' hims try too, an'
like it bery much; only hims fell off ebery tree steps an' a'most broke
all de bones in him's body down to powder. But hims git up agin and
fell hoff agin. Oh, hims like it bery much!"
"If we follow the chief's example," said I, laughing, "we shall scarcely
be in a fit state to hunt gorillas at the end of our journey; but now I
come to think of it, the plan seems to me not a bad one. You know a
great part of our journey now lies over a comparatively desert country,
where we shall be none the worse of a ride now and then on ox-back to
relieve our limbs. I think the proposal merits consideration."
"Right, Ralph," said Jack.--"Go, Mak, and tell his majesty, or
chieftainship, or his royal highness, with my compliments, that I am
much obliged by the offer, and will consider it. Also give him this
plug of tobacco; and see you don't curtail its dimensions before it
leaves your hand, you rascal."
Our guide grinned as he left the hut to execute his mission, and we
turned to converse on this new plan, which, the more we thought of it,
seemed the more to grow in our estimation as most feasible.
"Now, lads, leave me," said Jack, with a sigh, after we had chatted for
more than an hour. "If I am to go through all that our worthy host
seems to have suffered, it behoves me to get my frame into a fit state
to stand it. I shall therefore try to sleep."
So saying he turned round on his side, and we left him to his slumbers.
As it was still early in the afternoon, we two shouldered our rifles and
strolled away into the woods, partly with the intention of taking a shot
at anything that might chance to come in our way, but chiefly with the
view of having a pleasant chat about our prospect of speedily reaching
that goal of our ambition--the gorilla country.
"It seems to me," observed Peterkin, as we walked side by side over an
open grassy and flower-speckled plain that lay about a couple of miles
distant from the village--"it seems to me that we shall _never_ reach
this far-famed country."
"I have no doubt that we shall," said I; "but tell me, Peterkin, do you
really doubt the existence of the gorilla?"
"Well, since you do put it to me so very seriously, I can scarce tell
what I believe. The fact is, that I'm such a sceptical wretch by nature
that I find it difficult to believe anything unless I see it."
I endeavoured to combat this very absurd state of mind in my companion
by pointing out to him very clearly that if he were to act upon such a
principle at all times, he would certainly disbelieve many of the
commonest facts in nature, and give full credit, on the other hand, to
the most outrageous absurdities.
"For instance," said I, "you would believe that every conjurer swallows
fire, and smoke, and penknives, and rabbits, because you _see_ him do
it; and you would disbelieve the existence of the pyramids, because you
don't happen to have seen them."
"Ralph," said my companion seriously, "don't go in too deep, else I
shall be drowned!"
I was about to make some reply, when my attention was attracted by a
very singular appearance of moisture at the foot of a fig-tree under
which we were passing. Going up to it I found that there was a small
puddle of clear water near the trunk. This occasioned me much surprise,
for no rain had fallen in that district since our arrival, and probably
there had been none for a long period before that. The ground
everywhere, except in the large rivers and water-courses, was quite dry,
insomuch that, as I have said, this little solitary pool (which was not
much larger than my hand) occasioned us much surprise.
"How comes it there?" said I.
"That's more than I can tell," replied Peterkin. "Perhaps there's a
small spring at the root of the tree."
"Perhaps there is," said I, searching carefully round the spot in all
directions; but I found nothing to indicate the presence of a spring--
and, indeed, when I came to think of it, if there had been a spring
there would also certainly have been a water-course leading from it.
But such was not the case. Presently I observed a drop of water fall
into the pool, and looking up, discovered that it fell from a cluster of
insects that clung to a branch close over our heads.
I at once recognised this water-distilling insect as an old
acquaintance. I had seen it before in England, although of a
considerably smaller size than this African one. My companion also
seemed to be acquainted with it, for he exclaimed--
"Ho! I know the fellow. He's what we used at home to call a
`frog-hopper' after he got his wings, and a `cuckoo-spit' before that
time; but these ones are six times the size of ours."
I was aware that there was some doubt among naturalists as to whence
these insects procured the water they distilled. My own opinion,
founded on observations made at this time, led me to think the greater
part of the moisture is derived from the atmosphere, though, possibly,
some of it may be procured by suction from the trees. I afterwards paid
several visits to this tree, and found, by placing a vessel beneath
them, that these insects distilled during a single night as much as
three or four pints of water!
Turning from this interesting discovery, we were about to continue our
walk, when we observed a buffalo bull feeding in the open plain, not
more than five or six hundred yards off from us.
"Ha! Ralph, my boy," cried Peterkin enthusiastically, "here is metal
more attractive! Follow me; we must make a detour in order to get to
leeward of him."
We set off at a brisk pace, and I freely confess that, although the
contemplation of the curious processes of the water-distilling insect
afforded me deeper and more lasting enjoyment, the gush of excitement
and eagerness that instantly followed the discovery of the wild buffalo
bull enabled me thoroughly to understand the feeling that leads men--
especially the less contemplative among them--infinitely to prefer the
pleasures of the chase to the calmer joys attendant upon the study of
natural history.
At a later period that evening I had a discussion with my companions on
that subject, when I stood up for the pursuit of scientific knowledge as
being truly elevating and noble, while the pursuit of game was, to say
the least of it, a species of pleasure more suited to the tastes and
condition of the savage than of the civilised man.
To this Peterkin replied--having made a preliminary statement to the
effect that I was a humbug--that a man's pluck was brought out and his
nerves improved by the noble art of hunting, which was beautifully
scientific in its details, and which had the effect of causing a man to
act like a man and look like a man--not like a woman or a nincompoop, as
was too often the case with scientific men.
Hereupon Jack announced it as his opinion that we were both wrong and
both right; which elicited a cry of "Bravo!" from Peterkin. "For," said
Jack, "what would the naturalist do without the hunter? His museums
would be almost empty and his knowledge would be extremely limited. On
the other hand, if there were no naturalists, the hunter--instead of
being the hero who dares every imaginable species of danger, in order to
procure specimens and furnish information that will add to the sum of
human knowledge--would degenerate into the mere butcher, who supplies
himself and his men with meat; or into the semi-murderer, who delights
in shedding the blood of inferior animals. The fact is, that the
naturalist and the hunter are indispensably necessary to each
other--`both are best,' to use an old expression; and when both are
combined in one, as in the case of the great American ornithologist
Audubon, that is best of all."
"Betterer than both," suggested Peterkin.
But to return from this digression.
In less than quarter of an hour we gained a position well to leeward of
the buffalo, which grazed quietly near the edge of the bushes, little
dreaming of the enemies who were so cautiously approaching to work its
destruction.
"Keep well in rear of me, Ralph," said Peterkin, as we halted behind a
bush to examine our rifles. "I'll creep as near to him as I can, and if
by any chance I should not kill him at the first shot, do you run up and
hand me your gun."
Without waiting for a reply, my companion threw himself on his breast,
and began to creep over the plain like a snake in the grass. He did
this so well and so patiently that he reached to within forty yards of
the bull without being discovered. Then he ceased to advance, and I saw
his head and shoulders slowly emerge from among the grass, and presently
his rifle appeared, and was slowly levelled. It was one of our
large-bore single-barrelled rifles.
He lay in this position for at least two minutes, which seemed to me a
quarter of an hour, so eager was I to see the creature fall. Suddenly I
heard a sharp snap or crack. The bull heard it too, for it raised its
huge head with a start. The cap of Peterkin's rifle had snapped, and I
saw by his motions that he was endeavouring, with as little motion as
possible, to replace it with another. But the bull caught sight of him,
and uttering a terrific roar charged in an instant.
It is all very well for those who dwell at home in security to think
they know what the charge of an infuriated buffalo bull is. Did they
see it in reality, as I saw it at that time, tearing madly over the
grass, foaming at the mouth, flashing at the eyes, tossing its tail, and
bellowing hideously, they would have a very different idea from what
they now have of the trials to which hunters' nerves are frequently
exposed.
Peterkin had not time to cap. He leaped up, turned round, and ran for
the woods at the top of his speed; but the bull was upon him in an
instant. Almost before I had time to realise what was occurring, I
beheld my companion tossed high into the air. He turned a distinct
somersault, and fell with a fearful crash into the centre of a small
bush. I cannot recall my thoughts on witnessing this. I remember only
experiencing a sharp pang of horror and feeling that Peterkin must
certainly have been killed. But whatever my thoughts were they must
have been rapid, for the time allowed me was short, as the bull turned
sharp round after tossing Peterkin and rushed again towards the bush,
evidently with the intention of completing the work of destruction.
Once again I experienced that strange and sudden change of feeling to
which I have before referred. I felt a bounding sensation in my breast
which tingled to my finger-ends. At the same time my head became clear
and cool. I felt that Providence had placed the life of my friend in my
hands. Darting forward in advance of the bush, I awaited the charge of
the infuriated animal. On it came. I knew that I was not a
sufficiently good shot to make sure of hitting it in the brain. I
therefore allowed it to come within a yard of me, and then sprang
lightly to one side. As it flew past, I never thought of taking aim or
putting the piece to my shoulder, but I thrust the muzzle against its
side and pulled both triggers at once.
From that moment consciousness forsook me, and I knew not what had
occurred for some minutes after. The first object that met my confused
vision when I again opened my eyes was Peterkin, who was seated close
beside me on the body of the dead buffalo, examining some bloody
scratches on the calf of his left leg. He had evidently been attempting
to restore me to consciousness, for I observed that a wet handkerchief
lay on my forehead. He muttered to himself as he examined his wounds--
"This comes of not looking to one's caps. Humph! I do believe that
every bone in my body is--ah! here's another cut, two inches at least,
and into the bone of course, to judge from the flow of blood. I wonder
how much blood I can afford to lose without being floored altogether.
Such a country! I wonder how high I went. I felt as if I'd got above
the moon. Hollo, Ralph! better?"