i discover a curious insect, and peterkin takes a strange flight.
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.”
peterkin assumed a look of offended dignity as he replied—
“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 détour 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?”
i sat up as he said this, and looked at him earnestly.
“my dear peterkin, then you’re not killed after all.”
“not quite, but pretty near. if it had not been for that friendly bush i should have fared worse. it broke my fall completely, and i really believe that my worst hurts are a few scratches. but how are you, ralph? yours was a much more severe case than mine. you should hold your gun tighter, man, when you fire without putting it to your shoulder.”
“how? why? what do you mean?”
“simply this, that in consequence of your reckless manner of holding your rifle, it came back with such a slap on your chest that it floored you.”
“this, then, accounts for the pain i feel in it. but come,” said i, rising and shaking my limbs to make sure that no bones were broken; “we have reason to be very thankful we have escaped so easily. i made sure that you were killed when i saw you flying through the air.”
“i always had a species of cat-luck about me,” replied peterkin, with a smile. “but now let us cut off a bit o’ this fellow to take back with us for jack’s supper.”
with some difficulty we succeeded in cutting out the buffalo’s tongue by the root, and carried it back to the village, where, after displaying it as an evidence of our prowess, we had it cooked for supper.
the slight hurts that we had received at the time of this adventure were speedily cured, and about two weeks after that we were all well enough to resume our journey.
