The Gorilla Hunters (Musaicum Adventure Classics). R. M. Ballantyne
tell you where the white house is, unless you say which white house you want? Half the houses of the town are white—at least they’re dirty white,” he added bitterly, as he turned away.
“I think I can direct you, ma’am,” said I, stepping quickly up with a bland smile, in order to counteract, if possible, my companion’s rudeness.
“Thank you, sir, kindly,” said the little old woman; “I’m glad to find some little civility in the town.”
“Come with me, ma’am; I am going past the white house, and will show you the way.”
“And pray, sir,” said the big stranger, stepping up to me as I was about to move away, “can you recommend me to a good hotel?”
I replied that I could; that there was one in the immediate vicinity of the white house, and that if he would accompany me I would show him the way. All this I did purposely in a very affable and obliging tone and manner; for I hold that example is infinitely better than precept, and always endeavour, if possible, to overcome evil with good. I offered my arm to the old woman, who thanked me and took it.
“What!” whispered Peterkin, “you don’t mean me to take this great ugly gorilla in tow?”
“Of course,” replied I, laughing, as I led the way.
Immediately I entered into conversation with my companion, and I heard “the gorilla” attempt to do so with Peterkin; but from the few sharp cross replies that reached my ear, I became aware that he was unsuccessful. In the course of a few minutes, however, he appeared to have overcome his companion’s ill-humour, for I overheard their voices growing louder and more animated as they walked behind me.
Suddenly I heard a shout, and turning hastily round, observed Peterkin struggling in the arms of the gorilla! Amazed beyond measure at the sight, and firmly persuaded that a cowardly assault had been made upon my friend, I seized the old woman’s umbrella, as the only available weapon, and flew to the rescue.
“Jack, my boy! can it be possible?” gasped Peterkin.
“I believe it is,” replied Jack, laughing.—“Ralph, my dear old fellow, how are you?”
I stood petrified. I believed that I was in a dream.
I know not what occurred during the next five minutes. All I could remember with anything like distinctness was a succession of violent screams from the little old woman, who fled shouting thieves and murder at the full pitch of her voice. We never saw that old woman again, but I made a point of returning her umbrella to the “white house.”
Gradually we became collected and sane.
“Why, Jack, how did you find us out?” cried Peterkin, as we all hurried on to my lodgings, totally forgetful of the little old woman, whom, as I have said, we never saw again, but who, I sincerely trust, arrived at the white house in safety.
“Find you out! I knew you the moment I set eyes on you. Ralph puzzled me for a second, he has grown so much stouter; but I should know your nose, Peterkin, at a mile off.”
“Well, Jack, I did not know you,” retorted Peterkin, “but I’m safe never again to forget you. Such a great hairy Cossack as you have become! Why, what do you mean by it?”
“I couldn’t help it, please,” pleaded Jack; “I grew in spite of myself; but I think I’ve stopped now.”
“It’s time,” remarked Peterkin.
Jack had indeed grown to a size that men seldom attain to without losing in grace infinitely more than they gain in bulk, but he had retained all the elegance of form and sturdy vigour of action that had characterised him as a boy. He was fully six feet two inches in his stockings, but so perfect were his proportions that his great height did not become apparent until you came close up to him. Full half of his handsome manly face was hid by a bushy black beard and moustache, and his curly hair had been allowed to grow luxuriantly, so that his whole aspect was more like to the descriptions we have of one of the old Scandinavian Vikings than a gentleman of the present time. In whatever company he chanced to be he towered high above every one else, and I am satisfied that, had he walked down Whitechapel, the Horse Guards would have appeared small beside him, for he possessed not only great length of limb but immense breadth of chest and shoulders.
During our walk to my lodgings Peterkin hurriedly stated his “plan and proposal,” which caused Jack to laugh very much at first, but in a few minutes he became grave, and said slowly, “That will just suit—it will do exactly.”
“What will do exactly? Do be more explicit, man,” said Peterkin, with some impatience.
“I’ll go with you, my boy.”
“Will you?” cried Peterkin, seizing his hand and shaking it violently; “I knew you would. I said it; didn’t I, Ralph? And now we shall be sure of a gorilla, if there’s one in Africa, for I’ll use you as a stalking-horse.”
“Indeed!” exclaimed Jack.
“Yes; I’ll put a bear-skin or some sort of fur on your shoulders, and tie a lady’s boa to you for a tail, and send you into the woods. The gorillas will be sure to mistake you for a relative until you get quite close; then you’ll take one pace to the left with the left foot (as the volunteers say), I’ll take one to the front with the right—at fifty yards, ready—present—bang, and down goes the huge puggy with a bullet right between its two eyes! There. And Ralph’s agreed to go too.”
“O Peterkin, I’ve done nothing of the sort. You proposed it.”
“Well, and isn’t that the same thing? I wonder, Ralph that you can give way to such mean-spirited prevarication. What? ‘It’s not prevarication!’ Don’t say that now; you know it is. Ah! you may laugh, my boy, but you have promised to go with me and Jack to Africa, and go you shall.”
And so, reader, it was ultimately settled, and in the course of two weeks more we three were on our way to the land of the slave, the black savage, and the gorilla.
CHAPTER TWO.
Life in the wild woods.
One night, about five or six weeks after our resolution to go to Africa on a hunting expedition was formed, I put to myself the question, “Can it be possible that we are actually here, in the midst of it?”
“Certainly, my boy, in the very thick of it,” answered Peterkin, in a tone of voice which made Jack laugh, while I started and exclaimed—
“Why, Peterkin, how did you come to guess my thoughts?”
“Because, Ralph, you have got into a habit of thinking aloud, which may do very well as long as you have no secrets to keep but it may prove inconvenient some day, so I warn you in time.”
Not feeling disposed at that time to enter into a bantering conversation with my volatile companion, I made no reply, but abandoned myself again to the pleasing fancies and feelings which were called up by the singular scene in the midst of which I found myself.
It seemed as if it were but yesterday when we drove about the crowded streets of London making the necessary purchases for our intended journey, and now, as I gazed around, every object that met my eye seemed strange, and wild, and foreign, and romantic. We three were reclining round an enormous wood fire in the midst of a great forest, the trees and plants of which were quite new to me, and totally unlike those of my native land. Rich luxuriance of vegetation was the feature that filled my mind most. Tall palms surrounded us, throwing their broad leaves overhead and partially concealing the starlit sky. Thick tough limbs of creeping plants and wild vines twisted and twined round everything and over everything, giving to the woods an appearance of tangled impenetrability; but the beautiful leaves of some, and the delicate tendrils of others, half concealed the sturdy limbs of the trees, and threw over the whole