[Illustration]
Sosee was led back to the settlement of the Lali, where she was the
admiration of all the Apes. Her bright face, her beautiful form, and her
shapely limbs fixed the attention of old and young. Her captors were
particularly proud and received the congratulations of all the rest, who
had now returned from the pursuit of the fugitives.
Oboo alone was unhappy. He was disappointed, both because he did not
capture the girl, and because another did. One’s loss is greatest when it
is another’s gain. He had visions of love which he must now exchange for
those of jealousy. Quick to conceive a fancy he was slow to give it up.
Started on a pursuit of love, he was never satisfied till he had achieved
a success. And, to make his condition worse, the woman Oola, in whose
charge Orlee had been given, and to whom Oboo had been making love, flew
into a rage because he had allowed Orlee to escape.
“I am now wholly without a child,” she said; “you are no ape, to fail
to overtake a boy encumbered with a girl. You sought my love only to
betray me, and now I am without either lover or child; for with you I
will have nothing more to do. You care less for me than for the girl whom
you followed, instead of my child. If you ever make a soft face at me
again, I will scratch out your eyes. I have lost everything through your
unmonkey-like conduct.”
Oboo had not much to say, for he could not talk anything well except
love, and that he could not talk in company. So he took her reproaches,
but felt humiliated; and his embarrassment was increased by the raillery
of the others, who said he could love but could not run, and that in
the tussle with the girl, he had been beaten. They were so merry at his
expense, all the company joining in, that he got his “monkey up,” and,
becoming enraged, vented his ill humor on Ilo, the successful ape, who
had brought back Sosee.
“You could not have caught her,” he said, “if I had not driven her into
your arms.”
“You would never drive a girl into another’s arms, if you could avoid
it,” replied Ilo; at which the company chattered merrily their assent.
“I should have caught her,” he said “had you not interfered. She was
already mine, and you only took after her after she was captured.”
“I suppose,” replied the other, “you would like to have her, now that you
have lost the old woman.”
“I am entitled to her,” he said, “and I shall take her from you.”
“You could not keep her when you had her,” replied Ilo; “and do you
expect to both take her from me and keep her yourself?”
“You got her by chance, and could not help taking her when she ran into
your arms.”
“I notice, however, that you did not take her when she ran into your
arms,” was the reply.
“I will show you,” said Oboo, “that I can take her from both herself and
her captor;” at which he seized the girl, and was about to lead her away,
when the other dealt him a severe blow.
This was the signal for a great fight. Oboo sprang at the assailant,
striking him with hand and foot. The latter then flew at Oboo with both
hands, seizing him by the neck. There was now a hand to hand struggle,
in which Oboo tried to punch the stomach of his rival, while the latter
tried to throw Oboo to the ground. Oboo with his great jaws seized the
shoulder of Ilo, who, in turn, dealt Oboo a blow with the other hand,
and then bit off his ear. They now fought with both hands and feet and
jaws, and the region round about echoed with their growls. Oboo was
finally thrown to the ground, when the other jumped upon him, and nearly
beat out his breath. As often as he tried to rise the other knocked him
down, and sat upon him. The victory was evidently with Ilo, and Oboo
would have fared worse had not the woman, who really started the quarrel,
now interfered to end it. She took the part of her _quondam_ lover, for
whom she discovered a lingering affection, as soon as she saw that he
was likely to be slain. She growled and seized the victorious ape, and,
after a little struggle between the three, Oboo was allowed to get up and
walk away. Too weak to fight and too cross not to, he gave some savage
growls as he retreated, and threatened to whip his contestant and take
away the girl at another time.
Oboo felt that this was an inglorious day for him—to lose two lovers and
get one thrashing. He had, however, only himself to blame. He persisted
in making love when he should have been watching a captive. He failed
to catch either a young man or a young girl, and when the latter ran
into his arms, he failed to retain her, but got worsted in the struggle
which ensued; and when he finally would avenge his failures on a more
successful ape, he was ingloriously beaten. He therefore lost prestige,
military and social, for which he said all the Apes would have to suffer.
He was more angry after his fights than in them, so that his rage came
at a time when it could not serve him. Monkeys, like men, are more angry
at others for their own failures than for anything else, and so Oboo
determined to avenge his own blunders on others.
The only one who showed him any sympathy was the woman Oola, who got him
into all his trouble. She indicated a willingness to take him back into
favor. But Oboo was too cross to entertain proposals even of love, and he
went grumbling away, like Achilles, to meditate mischief and make himself
more miserable.