In a few minutes we came upon a female gorilla, which, all unconscious of our approach, was sitting at the foot of a vine, eating the leaves. There were four young ones beside her, engaged in the same occupation. In order to approach within shot of these, we had to creep on all fours through the brushwood with the greatest caution; for gorillas are sharp-sighted, and they have a remarkably acute sense of hearing, so that sometimes the breaking of a dry twig under one’s foot is sufficient to alarm them.
We did not venture to speak even in whispers as we advanced; but by a sign Jack told Peterkin to take the lead. Jack himself followed. Makarooroo went next, and I brought up the rear.
In all our hunting expeditions we usually maintained this arrangement, where it was necessary. Peterkin was assigned the post of honour, because he was the best shot; Jack, being next best, came second; and I came last, not because our guide was a better shot than I, but because he was apt to get excited and to act rashly, so that he required looking after. I was at all times ready to lay hold of him by the hair of his woolly head, which, as he was nearly naked, was the only part of him that one could grasp with any degree of firmness.
After creeping in this manner for some distance, we got within range. Peterkin and Jack took aim and fired together. The old gorilla and one of the young ones fell instantly, and from their not struggling it was evident that they were shot quite dead. The guide and I fired immediately after, but only the one that I fired at fell. The other two ran off as fast as they could. Sometimes they ran on all fours; and I observed that while running in this fashion the hind legs passed between the arms, or, as it were, overstepped them. Occasionally, however, they rose and ran on their hind legs, in a stooping position.
When they did this I was particularly struck with their grotesque yet strong resemblance to man, and I do not think that I could at that time have prevailed upon myself to fire at them. I should have felt like a murderer. In truth, my thoughts and sensations just then were anything but agreeable. Nevertheless I was so excited by the chase that I am quite certain no one, to look at me, could have guessed what was passing in my mind.
We ran as rapidly as was possible in such a tangled forest, but we had no chance with the young gorillas. Peterkin at last ran himself out of breath. Stopping suddenly, he said, pantingly—
“It’s—o’—no use whatever. Ho! dear me, my bellows are about exploded.”
“We’ve no chance in a race with these hairy men,” responded Jack, as he wiped the perspiration from his forehead.—“Why did you miss, Mak?”
“’Cause me no could hit, s’pose, massa.”
“Very justly and modestly said,” remarked Peterkin, with an approving nod. “’Tis a pity that men are not more generally animated with your spirit, Mak. Most people, when they do wrong or make a mistake, are too apt to try to excuse themselves.”
“Yes,” I added, with a laugh; “particularly when they blow the tails out of ostriches.”
Peterkin shook his head, and said solemnly, “Ralph, my boy, don’t take to joking. It don’t agree with your constitution. You’ll get ill if you do; and we can’t afford to have you laid up on our hands in these out-o’-the-way regions.”
“Come, now, let us back to the gorillas and secure them, lest their comrades carry them away,” said Jack, turning to retrace our steps.
I was anxious to shoot as many gorillas as possible, in order that I might study the peculiarities of, and differences existing between, the different species—if there should be such—and between various individuals of the same species in all stages of development. I had made an elaborate examination of our first gorilla, and had taken copious notes in regard to it. Being desirous of doing the same as far as possible with the female and the two young ones we had just killed, I hastened back with my companions, and we fastened them securely among the branches of a conspicuous tree, intending to send out some of our men for them on our return to camp.
After this we resumed our search for more, but wandered about for several hours without meeting with any, although we observed recently-made footprints in abundance. We went as nearly as possible in a direction parallel to our camp, so that although we walked far we did not increase our distance from it to any great extent.
Presently Makarooroo made a peculiar “cluck” with his tongue, and we all came to an abrupt stand.
“What is’t, Mak?”
The negro did not speak, but pointed eagerly in front of him, while the whites of his eyes seemed to sparkle with animation, and raised his gun to shoot.
We came up at the moment, and through an opening in the bushes saw what he was about to fire at. It was a female gorilla, with a baby gorilla in her arms. Fierce and hairy though she was, there was a certain air of tenderness about this mother, as she stroked and pawed her little one, that went straight to my heart, and caused me almost involuntarily to raise my arm and strike up the muzzle of Makarooroo’s gun, at the moment he pulled the trigger. The consequence of this act was that the ball passed close over their heads. The report of the piece was instantly followed by a roar of consternation, mingled with rage, from the mother, and a shriek of terror from the baby, which again was immediately followed by a burst of laughter from us, as we beheld the little baby clasp its arms tightly round its mother, while she scampered wildly away from us.
Mak looked at me in amazement.
“What for you be do dat, massa?”
“To prevent you from committing murder, you rascal,” said I, laughing. “Have you no feelings of natural pity or tenderness, that you could coolly aim at such a loving pair as that?”
The guide seemed a little put out by this remark, and went on reloading his gun without making reply. He had received enough of moral education at the mission stations to appreciate to some extent the feelings by which I was actuated; yet he had been so long accustomed and so early inured to harsh, unfeeling deeds, that the only idea that probably occurred to him on seeing this mother and her baby was, how near he could get to them in order to make sure of his aim.
“Ah! Ralph,” said Jack, as we resumed our march, “you’re too tender-hearted, my boy, for a hunter in Africa. There you’ve lost a chance of getting a gorilla baby, which you have been desiring so much the last few days, and which you might have stuck in a bottle of spirits, and sent home to be held up to universal admiration in Piccadilly, who knows.”
“Ay, who knows?” echoed Peterkin. “I think it more probable, however, that it would be held up to universal ridicule. Besides, you forget that we have no spirits to preserve it in, except our own, which I admit are pretty high—a good deal overproof, considering the circumstances in which we are placed, and the unheard-of trials we have to endure. I’m sure I don’t know what ever induced me to come, as a Scotch cousin of mine once said, ‘so far frae my ain fireside’ to endure trials. I do believe I’ve had more trials since I came to this outrageous land than all the criminals of the last century in England put together have had.”
“Peterkin,” said I seriously, “trials are a decided benefit and blessing to mankind—”
“Oh, of course,” interrupted Peterkin; “but then, as you have often retorted upon me that I am of the monkey kind, I think that I could get on pretty well without them.”
“My opinion is that they are good both for man and monkey,” said Jack. “Just consider, now: it must have been a terrible trial for yon gorilla-mamma to hear a bullet pass within an inch of her head, and have her sweet little darling frightened almost out of its wits. Well, but just think of the state of satisfaction and rejoicing that she must be in now at having escaped. Had it not been for that trial she would now have been in her ordinary humdrum condition. I quite agree with Ralph that trials are really a blessing to us.”
“I declare it is quite refreshing to hear that you ‘agree’ with anybody, Jack,” rejoined Peterkin, in a tone of sarcasm.—“Perhaps Mr Rover will kindly enlarge on this most interesting subject, and give us the benefit of his wisdom.—And, Mak, you lump of ebony, do you keep a sharp lookout for gorillas in the meantime.”
The guide, whose appreciation of fun was very considerable, said, “Yis, massa,” grinned from ear to ear, in doing which he displayed a double row of tremendous white teeth, and pretended to be gazing earnestly among the bushes on either side in search of game, as he followed us. The moment we began to talk, however, I observed that he came close up behind, and listened with all his ears. If eager expansion indicates anything, I may add that he listened with all his eyes too!
“I shall have much pleasure in obliging you, Peterkin,” said I, with a smile. “And in the first place—”
“O Ralph, I entreat you,” interrupted Peterkin, “do not begin with a ‘first place.’ When men begin a discourse with that, however many intermediate places they may have to roam about in and enlarge on, they never have a place of any kind to terminate in, but go skimming along with a couple of dozen ‘lastlies,’ like a stone thrown over the surface of a pond, which, after the first two or three big and promising bounds, spends itself in an endless succession of twittering ripples, and finally sinks, somehow or nohow, into oblivion.”
“Ahem! Shakespeare?” said Jack.
“Not at all,” retorted Peterkin. “If anybody gave utterance to the sentiment before, it was Shelley, and he must have been on the sea-shore at the time with a crotchet, if not a crab, inside of him.—But pray go on, Ralph.”
“Well, then, in the first place,” I repeated with emphasis, whereat Peterkin sighed, “trials, when endured in a proper spirit, improve our moral nature and strengthen our hearts; the result of which is, that we are incited to more vigorous mental, and, by consequence, physical exertion, so that our nervous system is strengthened and our muscular powers are increased.”
“Very well put, indeed,” cried Peterkin. “Now, Ralph, try to forget your ‘secondly,’ omit your ‘thirdly,’ throw your ‘fourthly’ to the winds, and let your ‘first place’ be your ‘last place,’ and I’ll give you credit for being a wise and effective speaker.”
I gave in to my volatile friend at that time, as I saw that he would not allow me to go on, and, to say truth, I thought that I had exhausted my subject. But, after all, Peterkin did not require to be incited either to good thoughts or good actions. With all his exuberant fun and jocularity, he was at bottom one of the most earnest and attached friends I ever possessed. I have lived to know that his superficial lightness of character overlaid as deeply earnest and sympathetic a spirit as ever existed.
While we were thus conversing and wandering through the forest, we again came upon the fresh tracks of a gorilla, and from their great size we conjectured them to be those of a solitary male. It is a remarkable fact that among several of the lower animals we find specimens of that unnatural class of creatures which among men are termed old bachelors! Among the gorillas these solitaires are usually very large, remarkably fierce, uncommonly ugly, desperately vindictive, and peculiarly courageous; so much so that the natives hold them in special dread. It is of these wild men of the woods that their most remarkable and incredible stories are related.
“I don’t think it’s a gorilla at all,” said Jack, stooping down to examine the footprints, which in that place were not very distinct; “I think an elephant or a rhinoceros must have passed this way.”
“No, massa, them’s not deep ’nuff for dat. Hims be a gorilla—a bery big one, too.”
“Don’t let us talk then, lest we should scare it,” whispered Peterkin. “Lead the way, Mak; and mind, when we come close enough, move your great carcass out of the way and let me to the front.”
“No, no, lad,” said Jack. “Fair play. It’s my turn now.”
“So be it, my boy. But get on.”
The tracks led us a considerable distance deeper into the wood, where the trees became so thick that only a species of twilight penetrated through them. To add to our discomfort, the light, we knew, would soon fail us altogether, as evening was drawing on apace, so we quickened our pace to a smart run.
We had not proceeded far when we were brought to a sudden standstill by one of those awfully loud and savage roars which we at once recognised as being that of a gorilla. It sounded like what we might term barking thunder, and from its intensity we were assured that our conjectures as to the creature being a solitary male gorilla were correct.
“Dat him, massas!” cried our guide quickly, at the same time cocking both barrels of his rifle. “Look hout! we no hab go after him no more. Him’s come to fight us. Most always doos dot—de big ole gorilla.”
We saw from the deeply earnest expression of the negro’s countenance that he felt himself now to be in a very serious position, which would demand all his nerve and coolness.
Again the roar was repeated with terrible loudness and ferocity, and we heard something like the beating of a huge bass drum, mingled with the cracking of branches, as though some heavy creature were forcing its way through the underwood towards us.
We were all much impressed with this beating sound, and, as is often the case when men are startled by sounds which they cannot account for, we were more filled with the dread of this incomprehensible sound than of the gorilla which we knew was approaching us. We might, indeed, have asked an explanation from Makarooroo, but we were all too much excited and anxious just then to speak.
We drew together in a group.
Jack, who stood a little in front of us, having claimed the first shot, was whispering something about its being a pity there was so little light, when his voice was drowned by a repetition of the roar, so appalling that we each started, feeling as though it had been uttered close to our ears. Next instant the bushes in front of us were torn aside, and the most horrible monster I ever saw, or hope to set eyes on, stood before us.
He was evidently one of the largest-sized gorillas. In the gloom of the forest he appeared to us to be above six feet high. His jet-black visage was working with an expression of rage that was fearfully satanic. His eyes glared horribly. The tuft of hair on the top of his head rose and fell with the working of his low wrinkled forehead in a manner that peculiarly enhanced the ferocity of his expression. His great hairy body seemed much too large for his misshapen legs, and his enormous arms much too long for the body. It was with the fists at the ends of those muscular arms that he beat upon his bulky chest, and produced the unaccountable sounds above referred to. As he stood there uttering roar upon roar—apparently with the view of screwing up his courage to attack us—displaying his great canine teeth, and advancing slowly, step by step, I felt a mingling of powerful emotions such as I had never felt before in all my life, and such as cannot by any possibility be adequately described.
I felt quite self-possessed, however, and stood beside my comrades with my rifle ready and my finger on the trigger.
“Now!” whispered Peterkin. But Jack did not move.
“Now!” said he again, more anxiously, as the immense brute advanced, beating its chest and roaring, to within eight yards of us. Still Jack did not move, and I observed that it was as much as Peterkin could do to restrain himself.
As it took the next step, and appeared about to spring, Jack pulled the trigger. The cap alone exploded! Like a flash of light the other trigger was pulled; it also failed! some moisture must have got into the nipples in loading. Almost as quick as thought Jack hurled his piece at the brute with a force that seemed to me irresistible. The butt struck it full in the chest, but the rifle was instantly caught in its iron gripe. At that moment Peterkin fired, and the gorilla dropped like a stone, uttering a heavy groan as it fell prone with its face to the earth—not, however, before it had broken Jack’s rifle across, and twisted the barrel as if it had been merely a piece of wire!
“That was a narrow escape, Jack,” said I seriously, after we had recovered from the state of agitation into which this scene had thrown us.
“Indeed it was; and thanks to Peterkin’s ever-ready rifle that it was an escape at all. What a monstrous brute!”
“Much bigger than the first one,” said Peterkin.—“Where is your measure, Ralph? Out with it.”
I pulled out my measure, and applying it to the prostrate carcass, found that the gorilla we had now shot was five feet eight inches in height, and proportionately large round the chest. It seemed to be a mass of sinews and hard muscles, and as I gazed at its massive limbs I could well imagine that it had strength sufficient to perform many, at least, if not all of the wonderful feats ascribed to it by the natives.
Shortly after the death of the gorilla, night settled down upon the scene, so we hurried back towards our camp, where we arrived much exhausted, yet greatly elated, by our successful day’s sport.
I spent a great part of that night making entries in my note-book, by the light of our camp-fires, while my companions slept. And, truly, I enjoyed such quiet hours after days of so great mental and physical excitement. I observed, also, that the negroes enjoyed those seasons exceedingly. They sat round the blaze, talking and laughing, and recounting, I have no doubt, their feats of daring by flood and field; then, when they began to grow sleepy, they sat there swaying to and fro, making an occasional remark, until they became too sleepy even for that, when they began to nod and wink and start, and almost fell into the fire, so unwilling did they seem to tear themselves away from it, even for the distance of the few feet they required to draw back in order to enable them to lie down. At last nature could hold out no longer, and one by one they dropped back in their places.
I, too, began to nod at last, and to make entries in my note-book which were too disjointed at last to be comprehensible; so I finally resigned myself to repose, and to dream, as a matter of course.
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