"I WISH YOU WERE A DOG."
While one of the soldiers teased and brutally ill-used the monkey, which
fought savagely with its aggressor, ending by getting hold of the
spear-shaft with teeth and all four hands, and displaying an amount of
strength that was wonderful in so small a creature, the other two looked
on and laughed till their comrade was tired and merely held on to his
spear. Then they condescended to turn their attention to their new
prisoner, examining and giving him credit for the empty rice-pot; and
after a glance at the other pot, which was half-full of water, one of
them, watching for an opportunity, threw its contents all over the
monkey, with the result that the poor brute uttered a shriek, loosened
its hold of the spear-shaft, and contented itself with dodging the
thrusts made at it by its aggressor.
He too now turned to Stan, and made a thrust at him with the spear-butt,
and then stared with astonishment at the result.
For Stan's temper boiled over at once.
"You insolent hound!" he roared, striking the bamboo aside, as he sprang
at the man. "How dare you!"
Stan's aspect was tragic, for, in spite of the disproportion between him
and his enemy, the man started back, and the scene became a farce.
The great cowardly brute fell against one of his comrades, who responded
by giving him a heavy thrust which sent him against the third, who
raised his knee so suddenly that Stan's assailant cannoned off and fell
heavily against the cage-like partition.
"Hergh!" he growled savagely as he began to gather himself up slowly,
glowering at Stan the while and muttering threats. But the next minute
he uttered a yell and sprang to his feet, but only to fall back, with
his head giving a heavy, resounding rap against the bamboo uprights,
where Stan saw that it was held tightly, while his big, round face,
turned towards the spectators of his trouble, was wrinkled up into
distortions caused by fear and pain.
For the moment Stan was puzzled, and the more so at seeing the other two
begin roaring with laughter as their companion continued to yell for
help, while they stamped about the prison, thumping the butts of their
spears upon the open floor.
"Why doesn't he get up?" thought Stan.
A strange, snarling, growling noise gave the explanation. It was just
such a sound as would be given out by a hound worrying a fox, and now it
was that Stan grasped what had happened. For the enraged monkey had
seen its opportunity when its tormentor had fallen and the back of his
head struck the partition; it had darted its long, sinewy hand and arm
through, and snatched them back, drawing soldier's pigtail into the den.
Then, with a snarl of triumph, a grab was made with the other hand and
feet, the steel-trap-like jaws closed upon the thickest part of the
plait, and holding on with bulldog-like tenacity, and more than double
that animal's strength, the fierce little creature growled and worried
and tore away till Stan's rage evaporated in something very much like
enjoyment of the victim's discomfiture.
"Well done, monkey!" he said to himself, and then waited to see the
termination of the encounter.
One thing was very evident, and that was the impossibility of the man
freeing himself, for at every struggle to draw the tail from the little
animal's grasp, and any increase of the distance between the imprisoned
head and the bars, there was a fierce, worrying noise, and the monkey
made a bound back which drew the head against the bars with a heavy
thump, to the increase of the man's agony, as it forced from him fresh
yells for help and more laughter from his companions.
This went on and on, the sufferer running up and down a whole gamut of
appeals, cries that were doubtless Chinese oaths hurled at his friends,
threats of what he would do to the monkey, and orders to Stan--at least
they seemed to be, for he stared furiously at the lad as he shouted, and
at last so piteously in the midst of a savage worrying, which sounded as
if the monkey was beginning to tear at the sufferer's head, that Stan's
compassion was moved, and he went forward to try and get the man free.
But the others dashed at him at once, and holding their spears
horizontally, thrust him back, growling out what evidently meant "No,
no, no!" and completely debarring the lad from giving any aid.
At last, not from good fellowship, but from growing tired of the sport,
the two soldiers began to lend an ear to their comrade's appeals; and
after a little banter from one, and a few shouts from the other to the
monkey, which seemed to Stan to be incitements to the animal to go on
worrying, a word or two passed between them, resulting in one picking up
the water-pot, putting his spear in a corner, and stepping out into what
seemed to be a passage.
Seeing this, a wild idea crossed Stan's mind that now would be his
time--that is, to seize the spear and make a dash for liberty.
But he made no attempt, for he felt that a better chance must come, and
he waited, to see the man step back directly with the heavy pot brim
full. This he bore towards the sufferer, who yelled at him savagely,
words which Stan felt certain were a bullying, insulting order to make
haste, for he saw the Chinese Aquarius exchange a malicious grin with
his comrade, who stood leaning on his spear; and then the whole of the
contents of the pot were discharged full at the partition, but with so
mischievous an aim that the imprisoned head received a larger share than
the monkey on the other side.
But the result was freedom.
Once more the monkey uttered a shriek at the unexpected bath, and darted
away, while its victim scrambled up, feeling at his tail, which was
ragged and torn frightfully about six inches or a foot from his head.
As the gallant warrior felt how terribly the noble appendage had been
damaged, he burst forth into a piteous howl, and then literally
blubbered with misery like a great, fat-headed booby of a boy.
"Oh, how-w!" he cried--"oh, how-w!" and once more his comrades stamped
about and thumped the floor with their spear-ends in the exuberance of
their delight.
"I wish I thoroughly understood Chinese," said Stan to himself as, quite
forgetting his own troubles, he listened to the crying soldier's string
of reproach poured out upon his comrades, till, after wiping the water
from his head and clothes, and feeling his tail again from end to end,
the pause he made over the gnawed and tattered portion was too much for
him.
Uttering a howl of rage, he dashed at his spear, seized it from where it
leaned, made for the partition, and thrust the sharp point through.
The monkey took this for a challenge, and uttered a chattering yell of
defiance, while Stan saw it advance bravely to meet the fresh assault.
This could only have had one result, but the poor beast found an
unexpected ally in Stan, who stepped forward just in time.
The spear was half its length through the bars, and on a level with the
monkey's broad breast, as the soldier made his thrust, one which must
have spitted the little, dwarfish creature through had not Stan made a
thrust at the same moment, diverting the man's aim. The result was that
the spear met with no opposition, and the fierce energy with which the
stroke at the monkey was made carried the soldier crash against the
partition and within reach of the animal's hands, which passed through
the bars, caught him by the ears, and held on for a moment or two--not
more.
For the man threw himself back with a yell of dismay, escaped, and, now
more enraged than ever, turned upon Stan with his spear.
It would have gone hard with the lad, for the soldier was furious, but
his comrades interfered with angry word and action, dragged the spear
from him, and bundled him out of the place, before refilling the
water-pot and half-filling the other vessel with cold boiled rice.
While these proceedings were taking place Stan attacked the two soldiers
verbally with the best Chinese he could command, assuring them that they
had made a great mistake in arresting him, an Englishman, bidding them
find out what had become of Wing, and ordering them to go straight to
the merchant's house at the other side of the town to tell him of what
had happened, and then inform the mandarin of the city, so that the
speaker might be released at once.
All of this the prisoner emphasised with great volubility. The two
soldiers smiled and listened and nodded their heads, before going out
and fastening the door after them, leaving poor Stan with the
determination upon him to wait patiently until the messages were
delivered, but all the time with his heart sinking and his common-sense
telling him that his present jailers had not grasped a word he said.
"Oh dear!" he cried bitterly; "they didn't understand a word. Oh, dear!
why didn't the Doctor teach me Chinese instead of all that Latin and
Greek? They would have understood me then; while now I'm perfectly
helpless, the brutes treating me just as if I were some newly discovered
wild beast. Whatever shall I do?
"I know," thought the lad at last: "wait till it's dark. These bars are
only bamboo, and it will be strange if I can't get through as soon as I
set to work. And what then? Why, the river! I must be able to find
some boat or another. Pooh! I'm not going to despair.
"No," he added gloomily after a few moments' thought; "I can't go alone,
and leave poor old Wing in the lurch. He wouldn't leave me, I know. I
will make for the farm. Perhaps Wing is over there after all, and for
aught I know he may be following me up, and is perhaps hunting for me
even now. There, I'm not going to be heart-sick and despairing. I
shall get away back to the _hong_ after all."
"Tchack!"
As Stan talked to himself he was gazing at the prison door, but this
sound brought him round in the other direction, to see a pair of bright
brown eyes watching him, and the fierce Chinese mountain monkey with its
long, thin arm stretched through the bars.
"Hullo, savage!" cried Stan aloud. "I'd forgotten you. Nice game this,
making me your companion. What do the contemptible brutes mean? To
send us both to their wretched Zoological Gardens in Peking? I should
like to catch them at it! Well, you're not handsome, but, my word, you
are a plucky little chap! Think of your tackling that great hulking
John Chinaman as you did! I say, though, it was nearly all over with
you with that spear."
"_Tchack_!" said the monkey coolly.
"Say Jack, if that's your name," said Stan, smiling.
"_Tchack_!"
"Oh, very well! Tchack! I say, though, who'd ever think that there was
so much strength in that skinny arm? What do you want? You can't be
hungry. Want to shake hands?"
"_Tchack_!" said the monkey quietly, and it strained out its fingers as
far as it could, while its fellow-prisoner could see that it was
clinging to the upright bar with the hand-like feet.
"Want to shake hands?" said Stan. "Now, I wonder whether monkeys have
sense enough to know the difference between friends and enemies. Dogs
do, of course, but you look a risky one. I've no tail for you to grab,
but you might get hold of me and give me an uncomfortable grip. You
might drag my hand through and bite and tear it horribly. Perhaps,
though, I'm as strong as you are, if it came to a tussle. Yet I don't
know; you are wonderfully powerful for such a little chap."
"_Tchack_!"
"Does that mean shake hands? Well, I'm just in the humour to risk it.
Perhaps you do know I'm friendly, after all, for you don't look so
fierce as you did."
Stan took a step or two nearer, bringing himself so close that he had
only to raise his hand to take that of the fierce-looking little animal;
while it was now light enough for him to see every twitch and wrinkling
of its restless forehead as its eyes searched his keenly. Then he
waited, occupying the time in calculating his chances.
"If I do let him grip my hand," he said to himself, "and he tries to
drag it between the bars, I have only to plant a foot against the bars
and hold back. He can't get at me to bite unless I let him drag my hand
right through, and I'm not going to be such a coward as to shrink. I've
been kind to the little brute, and fed him. All animals are ready to be
friends with those who feed them, so here goes."
But here did not go, for another thought struck the lad, and he gave
utterance to it.
"What nonsense!" he said. "I'd better think of making my escape instead
of trying experiments with monkeys. I might give him a little more to
eat, though. Perhaps that's what he wants after all."
Stan stood blinking his eyes at the monkey, and the monkey blinked its
eyes at him.
"Hungry?" he said aloud.
"_Tchack_!" was the reply.
"Not much of a conversationalist for a fellow-prisoner," said Stan,
laughing; and stooping quickly, he caught up the two chopsticks, dug a
portion of the rice from the pot, and held it out. "Here you are," he
said.
The twitching of the animal's face was wonderfully quick, and its eyes
twinkled as it stared at its new companion, but for a few minutes it
made no offer to take the rice.
"Aren't you hungry?" cried Stan.
"_Tchack_!" was the reply, as the hand moved delicately, a couple of
fingers pinching off a few grains, which were raised to the animal's
nostrils, snuffed at, and then crumbled so that they fell to the floor,
while the hand remained outstretched.
"Not hungry? What does it mean, then--a trap?"
There was no reply, and after pitching back the chopsticks into the pot,
Stan looked the animal full in the eyes, stood well on the alert, quite
ready to plant his right foot against one of the bamboo bars, and then
very slowly let his hand go down till it lay in the long, narrow,
outstretched palm.
It was the crucial moment then, and hard work to keep from snatching it
away, for the long, thin fingers closed over it gently but tightly. But
that was all. The animal breathed heavily--it sounded like a sigh--but
there was no sharp flashing of the keen brown eyes, only a softened look
as they blinked gently; and the fierce little beast just held on as if
it enjoyed having company and being talked to, for, perhaps oddly
enough, the satisfied feeling began to be mutual, and in what followed
the English lad seemed as if he were taking his fellow-prisoner into his
confidence in an apologetic way.
"Seems stupid to make friends with a savage monkey," he said slowly; and
as he spoke he began to softly manipulate the long, thin fingers. "I
don't see why. A fellow would not be long in taking up with a strange
dog if he were locked up alone as I am. He'd be precious glad of the
chance, and you seem ever so much more intelligent than a dog. Like
that?"
"That" was a gentle pressure of the hand; but there was no reply, so
Stan went on talking gently:
"I wish you were a dog, old chap--our dog, so that I could write a note,
tie it to your collar, and send you off with it to the _hong_. As a
monkey, you must have more gumption than a dog; but if I did tear a leaf
out of my pocket-book, write a message on it, and then tie it to your
neck, do you know what you'd do?--No, you don't.--Well, I'll tell you.
You'd take it and pick it all into little pieces, and perhaps chew them
up. That's about what you'd do; but I dare say I could teach you in
time.
"Well," continued Stan after a short pause, "I don't believe you mean to
bite. Let's see if I can't make you feel that you can trust me."
It was venturesome, and Stan half-expected to see the hand snatched
away, for he did see the eyes open more widely and begin to flash; but
he went on with what he purposed doing, slowly and quietly raising his
left hand, noticing that he was carefully watched, till it was just
beneath the one he held. Then he supported it with his left hand, and
began to stroke it gently with his right, smoothing the long, hairy
fingers; and as this went on there was another soft, long-drawn sigh,
and the animal's eyes nearly closed.
"There!" said Stan suddenly; "that's lesson the first. Now I'm going to
see if there is a way out of this horrible dog-hole."
He released the hand, and walked quickly away along the front bars,
peering through into the yard, but seeing nothing but blank wall, and
then crossed to the door, to stand listening.
But he had not been there many seconds before the monkey uttered an
uneasy whine, bounded up the bars of the partition, sprang across to
those at right angles, bounded back again higher up, and then, with
wonderful activity, lowered itself down, clung fast, and thrust a hand
through again.
"Oh, but I can't keep on with that game!" said Stan cheerily. "Here,
I'll take hold again for a minute. Then I must sit down and think. No;
I'll try if I can eat some of that horrible rice."
He went boldly up to the partition this time, and without hesitation
took hold of the monkey's hand, saw that it was supporting itself by
clutching the bars with its feet, and the next moment two hands were
thrust through, ready to be patted and held, a long-drawn sigh of
satisfaction being uttered; and as Stan gazed in the intelligent brown
eyes, he was ready to declare that the animal smiled.
"Well, it hasn't taken long to get to be friends with you, old chap," he
said. "There! that will do. I'm going to have my breakfast now."
Dropping the two hands, he stepped back to the two pots; and as soon as
his fellow-prisoner was released it began to bound about the great cage
with marvellous agility, snuffling, panting, and snorting, and ending by
leaping at the partition, clutching the bars, and holding on, while it
watched in perfect silence as Stan took a hearty draught of the water
and then sat down with the rice-pot between his knees and began to eat
the tasteless, unsatisfactory mess.
A few minutes later, when the prisoner looked up, his wild companion in
adversity was out of sight--but not out of hearing, for from somewhere,
apparently at the top, a peculiar tearing and crackling sound began.
Sometimes it was a mere gnawing such as might have been made by a rat;
then there would be a pause, followed by a sharp crack as a piece of
cane was being ripped off. But Stan could see nothing, and coming to
the conclusion that the monkey was amusing itself by tearing at some
piece of board, he went on with his wretched breakfast, paying no heed
till a couple of loud cracks came in succession, followed by quick
footsteps and the unfastening of the door.
At the first sound of steps the noise ceased; and as the door was flung
open and a couple of soldiers stepped hurriedly in, the prisoner looked
up from his mess of rice to find that they were looking at him
curiously, then round the place, till, apparently satisfied by seeing
how peacefully their charge was employed, they drew back and shut the
door, when silence once more reigned.