The front of the house gave way under the shower of stones thrown at Philip by the monkeys.—(See page 191.)
The front of the house gave way under the shower of stones thrown at Philip by the monkeys.—(See page 191.)
The leaders of the troop, who a few moments previous had been so eager to encompass his death, now literally cringed before Philip like whipped curs, and with Goliah at their head gathered around, fawning and caressing, while Philip stood as if stupefied; and in fact only that word would explain his mental condition.
The entire army crouched around him, some licking his hands, others his feet, and all showing in every possible way delight and abasement. Not a gesture of anger was made, and every head was bowed in evident respect.
It was fully a quarter of an hour before the bewildered Philip had so far gained the mastery over himself as to form the slightest conjecture of the reason for this sudden change in the behavior of his enemies, and then like a flash of light came into his mind the thought that in the mandrill’s skin he was mistaken for the gigantic ape whom Captain Seaworth had suspected was the leader of all the apes on the island.
From the bearing of those who had so lately bent every energy to kill him there could be no doubt but that he was safe, and his salvation was due only to the fact that in him the army recognized an ape, or rather the king of apes.
While Philip stood silent and motionless, trying to realize all that the position of a leader of apes might signify, and speculating as to whether it would be possible for him to carry out the part designated by his brute companions, the animals were literally walking over each other in their efforts to show allegiance or to give proof of joy at his return.
Philip’s first official act was to study closely the countenances of those nearest, to discover if they were perplexed or suspicious because he did not answer their chattering.
The owner of Philip’s skin must have been a quiet sort of fellow and one who was not given to conversation, for his delighted subjects appeared to think there was nothing strange in this silence of their king after so long an absence.
Goliah appeared to be the only member of the party who was not delighted at the sudden turn which affairs had taken; and this was but natural, since it could hardly be expected that a despot will “step down and out” from his high position without showing some signs of sorrow at relinquishinghis authority. He accepted the inevitable with remarkably good grace, however, even going so far as to seem pleased at seeing the rightful king come to his own once more.
This was the source of no slight relief to Philip. Had the big baboon attempted to incite a rebellion, it is barely possible that he who had so suddenly discovered himself a monarch would be deposed, for with treason in the camp he would be at the mercy of the conspirators, since, not understanding the language of the realm, he could not employ spies, and his downfall might be even more sudden than his elevation.
But, as has been said, Goliah bore with wonderful equanimity the loss of his crown, and at once installed himself in the office of adviser or member of the privy council, which position one of the slain had probably held prior to the king’s sudden disappearance.
Understanding that not only his high dignities but his life depended upon the naturalness with which he wore the borrowed skin, Philip endeavored to ape the apes, exerting himself to leap about in the most fantastic manner, as he had seen Goliah do during his reign, and, singular as it may seem, his antics were greeted with the most vociferous applause.
The only difficulty he experienced in transforming himself into a brute was his inability to wave the tail back and forth, expressive of pleasure or disapprobation, and his first edict was promulgatedprivately for his own benefit, to the effect that he must never turn his back upon his courtiers.
It was fully two hours before the delighted throng had finished showing their pleasure at the monarch’s return, and then the crowd gave way sufficiently for him to set out, accompanied by the courtiers and a long train of attendants, to make a general inspection of the one town in his kingdom.
In the hour of his prosperity—if one can be called prosperous who has suddenly been transformed into an ape—Philip did not forget the debt of gratitude he owed the chimpanzee, but immediately directed his steps toward the rear of the buildings, where the unfortunate Ben Bolt still languished behind prison-bars.
As the vast assembly arrived in front of the iron cage on the floor of which lay the poor captive whose only crime consisted in having incurred the displeasure of the vicious Goliah, Alice, who was trying to console the unfortunate chimpanzee as best she could from the outside, darted back in affright, believing the time had come when her mate was to be sacrificed to the vengeance of the baboon.
Even she did not recognize the animal-trainer in his new character; but she evidently had kindly remembrances of him who formerly owned Philip’s skin, for instead of continuing her flight she halted at the edge of the thicket until a gesture from the new king brought her to the bars of the cage once more.
Philip lost no time in unfastening the bolts, and,reassuring the captive as best he could by dumb show, led him forth to where Alice stood, awaiting in painful uncertainty the result of this sudden change of affairs.
Goliah understood even before the chimpanzee did that they were free to go wheresoever they pleased, and he gave, vent to low cries of rage and despair as he saw the two walk away paw in paw, the happiest-looking monkeys in the kingdom.
Even then the deposed ruler did not show the least sign of insubordination; he accepted what was to him the inevitable with becoming resignation, save for the hoarse cries he uttered.
It is not to be wondered at that after this simple act of justice had been done, Philip was wholly at a loss to know how to comport himself in accordance with his dignity. To move even the short distance of a yard without his numerous train of followers was impossible. His life had been spared only at the expense of becoming thoroughly an ape, and it was necessary to play well the part assigned him, until such time as friendly members of his own race should land upon the island.
The thought that Captain Seaworth might succeed in regaining his liberty and return with the colonists was the only thing that sustained him in this trying position. With hands clasped behind his back in a very un-apish attitude, he walked slowly toward his late place of refuge, followed by thousands of his monkey-subjects, all moving as if plunged in the deepest reflection.
Arriving at the ruins of the building he seated himself upon the fragments of some timber, trying to decide what his future course of action should be, and the crowd gathered silently around with the utmost show of respect.
While sitting here it was but natural that Philip’s thoughts should revert to the battle so lately and singularly ended, and he looked about him for the bodies of the slain.
Surely hundreds had fallen under his well-directed and continuous fire, but yet not a single corpse was to be seen. Search with his eyes where he would, it was as if the besiegers had suffered no loss whatever; and the reason for such a state of affairs he was not long in divining.
The apes had buried their comrades!
This newly-acquired knowledge led up to a subject which troubled Philip seriously. If any of his devoted followers should chance to discover the skeleton hanging in the mimosas, would they not recognize it as the frame of their former king, and thus be in a position to brand the present monarch as an impostor? Inasmuch as all their dead were consigned to the earth, it would be known at once that this ape had been killed before the appearance of the shipwrecked youth on the island. He already had sufficient proof of their reasoning powers to believe they would readily divine the meaning of the sinister mimosa fruit, more especially since it undoubtedly hung in the same thicket where they saw their king fall.
It was necessary to put an end to this possible embarrassment at the very beginning of his reign; but how could it be done? One may think it would be a simple matter to bury the bones near where they were now hanging. Such a plan could indeed have been carried into execution with the greatest facility when Philip was the shipwrecked animal-trainer; but now that he had become king of the island, and was surrounded by hundreds of followers, it was an extremely difficult project, since upon the secrecy of the movement depended its success.
“At all events,” Philip said to himself, “it is useless for me to think of stealing away unobserved just now. I must await an opportunity, and trust to the chapter of accidents that my predecessor’s bones may not be discovered meanwhile.”
As he thus put from his mind this unpleasant contingency, the desire for water, which had been so intense during the past five days, returned with redoubled force, and for the first time did his kingly dignity seem a boon. Now he could quench his thirst with what he pleased, and his followers might exhaust the cupboard of its supply of liquor without his being tempted to partake of a single drop.
Making his way with difficulty through the ruined building he proceeded to the court-yard, and, kneeling at the fountain of crystal water, drank until it seemed as if his thirst would never be satiated, while his subjects, deeming it their duty to do as he did, filled themselves with the cool beverage at imminentdanger of bursting, through their excess of loyal devotion.
After this had been done Philip felt the need of rest, and, lying on the greensward under shelter of the awning, prepared to go to sleep.
It was a singular spectacle that met his gaze as he raised himself on one elbow to make sure the apes had not found their way into the kitchen. The entire court-yard and veranda were covered with the recumbent forms of the monkeys, none of whom were probably very sleepy, but all bent on following their king’s example; and in attempting to do this it was necessary to pile themselves on top of each other like sardines in a box.
Although the bed was large it was uncomfortably full, and the unpleasant thought came into Philip’s mind that while remaining upon the island he would probably have the same number of bedfellows every night.
The strangeness of the situation, however, did not prevent him from closing his eyes in slumber, and this blissful unconsciousness might have continued until daybreak had it not been for a decided interruption in the shape of a tropical tempest, which came upon them in all its fury just before midnight.
In an instant the court-yard was a scene of the greatest confusion as the crowd of apes tried to gain shelter in the adjoining buildings, and during the confusion the king’s dignity was completely forgotten.
Even had the main building been intact it wouldnot have sufficed to shelter one-fourth of the party, and, half-ruined as it was, only comparatively few could find in it a refuge from the rain which poured down in torrents.
As a matter of course this obliged the majority of the troop to flee toward the other cottages, and they ran in every direction with apparently not a thought of their recently-returned king. There was no one, however insignificant, who would pause in that tempest to do homage to the monarch, and in a very few seconds the court-yard was so nearly deserted that the king was virtually alone.
This was the opportunity for which Philip had longed, and, perhaps fortunately for him, it had come thus quickly. Now he could steal away unobserved, and bury what might not inaptly be termed his own bones.
Philip had no very clear idea of where the skeleton was hanging. As is already known, he had accidentally come upon it during his journey from the beach; therefore the mimosas with the sinister-looking fruit were in a southerly direction from the village, but of more than that he was ignorant.
To find this spot in the night, and during the violent tempest, seemed an impossible task; but yet it must be attempted despite every danger, because such an opportunity might not present itself again for many days.
He made his way out through the ruined building, while his followers scampered in every direction to shelter their bodies from the rain (for a monkey is proverbially afraid of water), and crossed the road into the thicket without being perceived by any of the startled crowd.
There was not the slightest danger of meeting with one of his subjects during the journey unless the tempest should cease suddenly and Goliah send messengers in search of him; therefore he walked fearlessly forward after stopping behind the breastworks thrown up during the battle to arm himselfwith a stout stick, which would serve as a shovel in the task of grave-digging.
The rain descended in torrents. The wind howled and shrieked among the trees, bending them almost to the earth, or here and there uprooting some sturdy fellow who refused to bow his crest before the storm, while fragments of branches, falling in every direction, threatened destruction to the reckless traveler. The lightning-flashes which darted across the entire horizon, illuminating during a few seconds the thicket as with the glare of the noonday sun, served oftentimes to disclose danger in his path, and it was only from the frequency of these bolts of light that he was enabled to make his way with any knowledge of direction.
His own skin was dry, although that of his assumed character was heavy with water, and, save for the fatigue of rapid walking, he was even more comfortable than he would have been in a close room surrounded by his animal followers. The knowledge that he had left the apes behind served to arouse a feeling of exultation, and he bounded forward like a prisoner who suddenly sees the road to liberty open before him when he had fancied his term of confinement not yet half ended.
Each time the electric flash came he looked around eagerly in search of the mimosas, and more than once did he mistakenly believe he had arrived at the end of his journey.
The storm was still raging furiously when he finally found that for which he sought.
Fully two minutes had passed without lightning, and then, as a terrific peal of thunder was followed by a violent blaze, he saw directly before him, swaying to and fro in the wind, the bones of himself—or of his predecessor, whichever may be the correct term.
As a certain well-known author has said: “Man has three distinct characters. Himself as God knows him, himself as his fellows know him, and himself as he knows himself.” It was this second character which Philip wished to hide, and, under the above proposition, could rightfully be said to be burying his own skeleton.
To dig a grave with a sharpened stick as his only tool was by no means an easy task, since, owing to the enormous size of the mandrill Captain Seaworth had killed, it was necessary to make the excavation fully seven feet long.
He worked, however, as men will when they know their lives depend upon the effort. He threw aside the dark loam with feverish haste, regardless alike of the pitiless rain and the hurtling branches, until, just as the storm ceased and the moon peeped out from among the flying clouds as if for no other purpose than to tint the rattling bones with a most unearthly radiance, the grave was made, and the time had come when the skeleton must be cut down from the branches.
As a matter of course the former king of the island had no trousers pockets, therefore Philip was without a knife; but so strong is instinct that heattempted several times to insert his hand into the outer skin of his leg before realizing that his new clothes contained no convenient receptacle for tools. The rope by which the skeleton had been suspended was strong and resisted all his efforts to break it. It was necessary to ascend the tree and untie the halter, after which the well-dried anatomy fell to the ground with a clatter such as the end-man in a minstrel-show makes when he wishes to excite the greatest possible applause.
It was necessary to work now with the utmost haste, for, the tempest having ceased, it was more than probable his followers would soon come in pursuit, and Philip interred his skeleton with all possible speed, trampling the earth down until convinced that only the most careful scrutiny could reveal his secret.
Then he retraced his steps as best he could; but more than once did he deviate from the proper course, and the result of these involuntary detours was that day had already begun to break when he arrived within sight of the village.
Here was the loyalty of his subjects made manifest once more. Every individual ape had been looking for his king, occupying the piles of stones or roofs of houses as points of vantage, and when Philip appeared from the thicket a howl of joy went up which seemed to shake the very island.
During five hours the animal-trainer had been a man, but now he was an ape again, so to remain until rescuers should arrive or he be tempted tosteal out once more under the friendly cover of a tempest.
Of course the first step which either king or peasant would naturally take after morning dawned was to procure breakfast, and Philip realized how necessary such a course was from the faintness which seized upon him after his arduous labors.
To enter the kitchen and there satisfy his hunger would be to squander all the provisions stored in the cupboards, for his subjects would make short work of Captain Seaworth’s dainties. Therefore, with a view of saving the stock for an emergency, Philip led the way, followed by hundreds of grinning, chattering, frolicsome monkeys, to the banana plantation, where all were soon busily engaged hunting for the yellow fruit.
It was Goliah himself who assumed the task of providing the king with food, and when the party had eaten their fill Philip led them back to the village, where for some moments he stood undecided as to how he should further comport himself.
To roam about the forest with such a band might be to excite the gravest suspicions in the minds of his subjects because of his inability to climb a tree or to swing himself from the branches by the aid of his tail; therefore it was necessary he should, so far as possible, remain in the settlement.
The sight of the ruined buildings, in front of which were the enormous piles of stones thrown up as breastworks, gave him a desire to see these habitations restored to their former appearance, andthe thought came that it would not be a long task to raise houses on the same plan, with walls formed of the ammunition gathered by the apes.
It hardly seemed probable the long-tailed subjects could be made to act the part of builders, but they would serve to carry the materials from one point to another, and he resolved to set about the work of reconstructing the settlement as a pleasant and profitable way of spending his time.
To this end he began to drag away the splintered timbers, and instantly a thousand pairs of hands were at work following his example, until all the debris had been removed from the proposed site of the building. That which would have required a week of his time was done in an hour, and the amateur architect understood that his labors might yet be crowned with success.
Then he placed some of the larger stones on such a line as he intended the walls should be erected upon. Instantly every ape on the island was seized with a mania for building, laboring with such a will that it required all his efforts to restrain what was misdirected zeal, otherwise a wall like that of China might have been put up, provided there had been sufficient materials at hand.
It was necessary he should find something which would serve as mortar; and to that end, as soon as he could control his too willing subjects he searched the store-houses until to his great joy he found at least twenty barrels of plaster, which Captain Seaworth had brought in case it might be needed for just such a purpose.
To have these heavy barrels conveyed to the scene of operations it was only necessary for Philip to roll one, when the whole twenty came out like horses on a race-track; and as he began to open the plaster and mix it with water, so did they.
Seized with a rage for building, they made mortar, broke stone, ran here and there, and assisted Philip until the entire party were whitened with plaster from the ends of their flattened noses to their toes, causing them to look like veritable workmen with white over-garments; but, unlike other workmen, they neither insisted that eight hours made up a full day’s work, nor did they idle away valuable time in frivolous conversation.
Before the day was half spent Philip began to experience the disagreeable consequences of his midnight journey in the rain. His predecessor’s hide had been thoroughly soaked during the labor of grave-digging, and now that the sun sent down his hottest rays the skin began to shrink, aided by the heat of his body and the warmth of the atmosphere, until it inclosed him as if in a case of iron. Struggle as he might, it was impossible to stretch the stout hide by any motion of his body, and the cold perspiration gathered on his forehead as he realized what the position of affairs would be in case the tightly-fitting garment should burst asunder.
He no longer dared to make any movement, but stood erect with an expression of anxiety on his face; and, true to their habits of mimicry, his subjects did the same until Philip could not resistthe inclination to laugh aloud as the thought presented itself that it would be ridiculous, indeed, if every member of the party were also waiting with the same anxiety to ascertain whether or no his own skin was about to split.
When he burst forth in uncontrollable laughter the entire army of laborers did the same until the air resounded with their cries, and once more was Philip forced to exercise the greatest caution lest even his own mirth should hasten the catastrophe he so greatly feared.
Fortunately, however, his predecessor’s hide was now fully shrunken, and although it fitted him quite as tightly as did his own skin, he had every reason to believe it would remain intact unless he should be so careless as to make some violent exertion.
It was only during such times as the work could be pursued that Philip had any relief of mind, despite his kingly dignities. When, by example, he intimated that the labors of the day might cease, his subjects expected him to play the part of ape as heartily as they had enacted the role of laborers, and in order to preserve his life he was forced to comply with these wishes.
Holding a court-martial, for the purpose of trying and sentencing alleged offenders, was the greatest delight of the long-tailed inhabitants, and once each day Philip was obliged to sit in solemn state, surrounded by his lieutenants, while the number of supposed culprits brought before him was always sufficient to furnish the brute dignitaries with the spectacle of a wholesale flogging.
If any of the party were found idle during working-hours they were certain of being brought up for judgment, and this fact probably accounted for the great zeal displayed whenever an example was set before them.
At these mock trials Philip remained silent, since it would have been impossible for his subjects to understand any decision he might render; and Goliahtook upon himself the duties of judge, looking up now and then at the king, as if to make certain he was not assuming too much power.
After the judicial session was ended the monkeys would separate, forming bands of two or three hundred, each to go in search of food, and during such excursions Philip oftentimes found an opportunity to gain the kitchen unobserved, thus being able to vary the ordinary bill of fare by some of the dainties which had been so distasteful while he was a prisoner in the building. Never once, however, was he tempted to drink any of the wine. The remembrance of the days when he so ardently wished for water, but was unable to procure it, taught him the strictest temperance principles.
Every morning the apes held what might be called a grand military review, the entire body marching in front of the building occupied by their king. Philip, and those who attached themselves to his person as a sort of body-guard or staff, reviewed the troops with the utmost gravity, after which each ape executed marvelous monkey-maneuvers in the shape of ground and lofty tumbling, in which it was expected the king would take an active part.
It was at the first of these parades that Philip understood what was demanded of a monarch. After the main body of the party had turned somersaults or handsprings all eyes were directed at him, and words were not needed to let him know he should perform the same antics.
This opportunity of allowing the king to displayhis agility was never lost, and after the first exhibition Philip looked forward with fear and trembling to the moment when he must, before the assembled army, go through such contortions as would have put a professional acrobat to shame.
His method of life, as well as his costume, fitted him to a certain extent for these extraordinary antics, and while he did not succeed in performing them with the skill and agility displayed by his subjects, there were plenty of flatterers near at hand to lavish praise upon him as if he had outdone them all.
And now must be told that which may seem improbable.
Eager for labor, because it brought him relief from close communication with his followers, Philip set systematically at work, not only repairing the buildings, but laying out roads from one side of the island to the other; and this he accomplished with no more assistance than that afforded by the long-tailed inhabitants.
In less than one month the buildings which had been destroyed were rebuilt in the most substantial manner with walls of stone. Two or three additional dwellings were constructed later, and four splendid roads running north, south, east and west, from the village to the sea, were opened.
That which would have taken a small army of laborers many months to accomplish was completed by the apes in a little more than three weeks. It was only necessary for Philip to begin felling treeson the right and left of the four lines representing the routes to be opened through the thicket, when hundreds of pairs of hands were at work pulling up the underbrush, tearing down shrubs, and chopping at the tree-trunks with as many axes as could be found in the store-room.
During this work in the forest Philip had ample opportunity of noting the immense number and variety of spiders and lizards which were to be found on the island.
It was a positive pleasure for him to watch the little jumping spiders, which were of such brilliant hue that they looked like animated gems as they sprang from bough to bough. The web-spinning species were not only very numerous, but caused the greatest annoyance. They stretched their webs from one tree to another at such a height as to come in contact with a man’s chin, and the threads were so strong and glutinous as to require no slight amount of trouble to free one’s self from them. These fellows were fully two inches long, with yellow spots on their brown bodies, which gave them a very disagreeable appearance.
The apes paid little or no attention to these pests; but Philip could never conquer his aversion to the fat-bellied insects, and more than once did he make a long detour rather than run the risk of an encounter.
As for the lizards, it seemed as if every bush was alive with them. They were of all shades—green, gray, brown and black; and even Goliah, who delightedin cruelty, never so much as harmed one of these active little hunters, all of whom were busily engaged catching the flies and mosquitoes, for without such a check to the increase of insect-life the island would speedily have become uninhabitable.
The work was carried steadily forward, however, despite all annoyances, and in three weeks from the time Philip Garland became king of the apes it was possible to sit in the rebuilt tower of the principal dwelling and view the sea from four different points. Therefore, in case a vessel approached the island the king would have such timely notice of her coming that any signal might be made. It would simply be necessary to start a small fire on the beach to have it built to the height of a mountain by the industrious apes.
Only in the hope of relief coming from the sea did Philip succeed in nerving himself to play the part of a brute. If he could have had a companion with whom to converse, his position would have lost many horrors; but to be surrounded by apes was worse than being alone, and, next to the arrival of human beings, perfect solitude was the greatest boon which could have been granted him.
During the labor of road-making Philip noticed that now and then a party of apes would leave the working portion of the army and absent themselves two or three hours, bringing at the end of that time what appeared, both from shape and size, to be hens’ eggs. These were evidently considered a great delicacy by the apes, and the searchers invariablyhanded one to the king and each of his officers before partaking themselves.
To make any attempt at cooking them would have given the apes the idea of building innumerable small fires, which might soon have consumed all the vegetation on the island, and Philip ate his raw, as did the others. He fancied that some of the colonists’ poultry might have escaped destruction, and so eager was he to learn where this article of food could be found that on seeing a certain number of apes abandon their labors, under Goliah’s direction, he followed. The party went directly to the sea-shore, and there, just above high-water mark, where a turtle would naturally make her nest, were found little piles of sand, in each of which was a single egg.
It was some time before Philip learned that these tiny hills were the nests of a bird known to naturalists as the “Maleo.”
A few days later he saw a glossy black and white bird with helmeted head and elevated tail—not unlike a common fowl, except that the bonnet and the tubercles at the nostrils were longer—scraping the sand into little mounds, and he knew the rare species was before him.
Some months subsequent to this Philip learned that after the maleo thus deposits her eggs she follows the example of the turtle, and pays no further attention to her nest. The sun does the work of maternity, and the young chicks are able to take care of themselves on emerging from the shell.
When all the contemplated work had been finished, Philip was at a loss to know how he should employ the large number of his subjects, in order to free himself as much as possible from their fawning companionship.
He would have built an observatory on the summit of the extinct volcano but for the fact that the supply of plaster had already been used in remodeling the buildings, and it was impossible to quarry rocks of such size that they would be held together by their own weight.
The readiness with which his subjects copied every movement caused him to believe it might be possible in the near future, unaided by human beings, to continue the work already begun on the plantation—provided, of course, he was not molested by the pirates. This idea came into his mind one day when they were near the base of the volcanic mountain, and he saw what at first glance appeared to be a peach-tree.
It was from twenty to thirty feet high, with glossy green leaves, and bearing small, yellowish flowers at the same time that ripe fruit, not unlike a peach in size and color, hung upon its branches.
Up to this moment he had supposed an orange was the only tree which blossomed while the fruit was ripening, and this singular fact showed him the mistake made in believing it to be a peach-tree.
Picking one of these luscious-looking apples, he found it of a tough, fleshy consistency, partially split open, and showing within a dark brown nut covered with crimson mace. It was a nutmeg.
As Philip well knew, the Dutch Government had relinquished its monopoly of the nutmeg trade in these seas, and he speculated, despite the amount of gold stored in the cavern, whether it would not be possible, with the aid of his long-tailed subjects, to make of this fruitful island one vast plantation of nutmegs, which would be a source of wealth greater even than the bed of the stream could produce.
Although king of apes, he had the natural desire of man to increase his possessions, and for a time his fancy painted most gorgeous and alluring pictures of what might be done if the energies of the monkeys could be directed into the proper channel.
It was only when he realized the mischievous propensities of the apes that he decided against this pleasant dream. It was hardly probable he could restrain them from destroying even fruit which was not palatable; and he finally confessed to himself, with a sigh, that however absolute his power, any attempt to change the nature of his subjects would be useless.
During the one day of rest in which he allowed his followers to indulge he had been forced to make such a display of his supposed apish powers as thoroughly exhausted him, and, as the only means of utilizing the superfluous energies of the army, he set about exploring more carefully the island.
As may be supposed, his first step was to examine the little harbor where the pirates had left their sinister warning and in which the Reynard had been anchored. This was done in the hope of discoveringsomething that would show under what circumstances the colonists had embarked.
So far as gaining information was concerned he succeeded; but it was anything rather than satisfactory.
Two buoys floating on the water showed that the anchor had not been weighed. The cables were slipped when the Reynard sailed, and this fact convinced Philip that the pirates had left the bay with all possible speed, believing the apes were reinforcements of men.
This confirmation of his previous theories was a sad blow to the lonely youth, who had secretly hoped he might have arrived at a false conclusion when first studying the matter; but it was not long he mourned because of his friends’ untimely fate, for before that day came to an end he had grave cause for fear concerning his own immediate safety.
It was on his return from the journey to the sea-shore that Philip had an opportunity of seeing how wonderfully Nature provides for the wants of man.
He, accompanied by Goliah and followed by the entire army, marched through the dense thickets, where not one breath from the sea could penetrate to dispel the stifling heat, until the desire for water was almost overpowering. In the hope that the huge baboon might know of a spring near by, Philip gave evidence of intolerable thirst by pointing to his mouth and making gestures as if drinking.
Goliah was equal to the emergency. Walking on a few paces he stopped before a half-vine, half-shrub,which partially clung to the trunk of a tree and bore huge, bulb-like flowers, shaped something after the fashion of a pitcher. At the top was a petal which covered an aperture capable of holding at least half a pint; and tearing this off, the baboon presented to his king a flagon of water which, although slightly warm, was as palatable as if it had just been taken from a spring.
This was Philip’s first introduction to the “pitcher-plant,” and many times afterward did he quench his thirst from these natural reservoirs.
The exploring party returned to the village early in the afternoon. The king, wearied by the long walk, seated himself near the veranda of the royal residence, while Goliah, arrogating to himself the high office of commander-in-chief, called out the troops for a second review.
Philip could not refuse to witness the evolutions nor to take part himself, and his fatigue was so great that he was even more awkward than usual.
While cutting the most solemn caper, which was accepted by the apes as a formal military salute, he heard a slight noise immediately in the rear, and an instant later the loosening of his single garment of skin told what a disaster had befallen him.
The hide was split at that place where it had been most used by its former owner as well as by Philip, and unless it should be possible to regain the dwelling without turning his back to the troops the most disastrous consequences might ensue.
Beads of perspiration stood on Philip’s brow ashe retreated to a gigantic bamboo, where it was possible to hide temporarily what the apes might have considered something more than an accident; and during the remainder of the review he stood stiff and upright, while his staff-officers gazed at him in astonishment which was not mute, because of the chattering they indulged in among themselves.
Philip understood that the first breath of suspicion had fallen upon him, and instinctively he looked around for a weapon, knowing that Goliah would not be slow to take advantage of any opportunity to regain the crown.
A stout piece of bamboo, which had been used during the parade in lieu of a sword by one of the officers, lay upon the ground where Philip could reach it without exposing the fracture in his garments, and seizing this he stood on guard, fully determined to defend himself, even to the death, in case his counselors or Goliah should insist on his taking part in the maneuvers. That he would fall a victim to their wrath the instant the deception was made known by the rent was unquestionable; but his kingly dignity might prevent the greater number of his subjects from crowding too near.
In a suspiciously friendly manner Goliah motioned him, when the troops were drawn up for the royal salute, to advance and go through the ridiculous antics which he had formerly executed on such occasions.
Philip placed his hand on his head, and then on his stomach, as if to show that he was suffering frompain. Although the other members of his privy counsel appeared satisfied with such an explanation, the huge baboon displayed the most lively curiosity. He walked entirely around the king and the tree against which the latter leaned, but at a respectful distance, and then, returning, once more invited the monarch to salute the soldiers.
Again was the pantomime repeated, and, understanding this controversy could not long continue, Philip motioned for the troops to resume their march. He was well aware that because of Goliah’s maneuvres very many had grown distrustful; but it was something which could not have been prevented, and his safety lay in reaching the house.
Owing to Goliah’s interference, however, the parade was not dismissed as quickly as under other and more pleasant circumstances. The troops marched and countermarched, directed by the baboon, until it seemed to the king, whose royal robe was shrinking rapidly, that the pageant would never end.
The fifteen minutes which passed after his refusal to salute seemed like so many hours; but the soldiers were finally dismissed, and by a series of the most extraordinary maneuvers Philip succeeded in reaching the veranda of his dwelling hardly more alive than dead, while clustered around him, with anxiety or curiosity written on every face, was a vast throng of apes, foremost among whom stood Goliah, glaring in the most suspicious manner, as if he fully understood the cause of the king’s discomfiture.
The king of the apes was a voluntary prisoner for a second time.
On gaining the building he shut the door in the faces of his anxious and suspicious subjects and betook himself once more to the second-story room, from the windows of which he had previously waged battle against the apes.
This apartment, like all others in the house, had been remodeled, and, thanks to the energy of his subjects, was in a better condition to withstand a siege than when he first entered it. During all his labor he had kept ever in mind the thought that at some future time it might be necessary to have a place of refuge, and to this end he restored the rooms to their original condition and location, thus giving him, as before, free range from the kitchen to what had been Captain Seaworth’s office.
It is true the doors were no stronger than before, and should the apes select either one of them as a distinct point of attack, it might soon be battered down. Against such an event he could take no precautions, but trusted that, should another battle ensue, the missiles would be thrown with the sameabsence of studied aim as had been previously displayed.
Arriving in this corner apartment, Philip threw himself in Captain Seaworth’s chair disheartened and almost weary of life, even though he was trying to devise some plan for prolonging it.
Without having recourse to a mirror, he knew exactly how large was the rent in his predecessor’s skin and the difficulties he would have in repairing it. Had it been possible to present himself boldly before his subjects he might have searched in the other houses of the village and probably found needles and thread to repair the damage; but now that he could show no more than his face, such an opportunity for benefiting himself was out of the question.
Mechanically he looked about him, although every article in the room was familiar, and perhaps he had opened the desk for at least the twentieth time, when his eyes fell upon a piece of string.
It was what he most needed, and with it the rent made by “envious fortune” might possibly be repaired.
Taking off the hide carefully and with considerable difficulty, he found that it had been split from just below the jointure of the tail to a distance of fully twelve inches straight up the back, and of course in that particular place his body would serve to make the opening greater.
It was necessary to close it as nearly as possible, and with a splinter of wood as an awl with whichto puncture the hide, he finally succeeded in lacing it up like a shoe.
The job was anything rather than satisfactory. The nearest-sighted ape on the island would have perceived at once that there was something the matter with the king’s back, and so familiar were Philip’s subjects with their monarch, there could be no question about their immediately investigating the cause of his singular appearance. Once curiosity was aroused in this direction the secret must be exposed within a very few moments, and he knew that his life would be spared only so long as he succeeded in keeping the apes at a proper distance.
One can readily imagine his condition of mind when he put on, probably for the last time, the dress of skin which had brought him such questionable honors and might now prove to be the immediate cause of his death. He could well say “Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown” when only the face should be seen by the subjects.
Goliah’s suspicions were undoubtedly aroused, and beyond a question he would be the first, under the guise of excessive loyalty, to discover why the military review had been brought to such an abrupt termination. Therefore Philip understood that unless he could remain in a sitting posture during the balance of his reign, discovery of his false character was certain, and also that under no circumstances must his followers be allowed to approach him.
The entire night was passed in these gloomy reflections,and when the first gray light of dawn appeared in the sky the chattering of apes under his window told Philip that his followers had come to learn the cause of his sudden indisposition.
That they would remain until he showed himself was absolutely positive, and without opening the door he stepped from the window to the balcony as a great howl of joy went up from the assembled throng. They danced and cut capers as if imploring the king to come down, and at the risk of disarranging his very tender hide he was obliged to show them many a royal caper before their anxious solicitude could be stilled in the slightest degree.
Even after he had executed these dangerous maneuvers, for fully half an hour did they refuse to be satisfied, and he had good reason to deplore what probably no other king ever did—the intense affection of his subjects.
Now and then some very zealous monkey clambered up on the balcony to make sure the monarch was not deceiving them as to the state of his health, but at a gesture from him the animal would leap back among the crowd; and when Philip felt certain the lacing of his hide could no longer withstand the strain he retreated into the room, taking good care to close the window behind him.
That this voluntary imprisonment could not be continued many days he understood before another hour passed. The number of those who were eager to ascertain the exact condition of their monarch’s health increased each moment, and in the absence ofa court physician who could issue regular bulletins regarding the patient it was necessary Philip should show himself on the balcony several times during the afternoon, otherwise the building might have been attacked again.
As a matter of course, he was forced on every occasion to go through the apish capers which were supposed to display affection for his subjects, and each time a warning rip from behind told that his gestures of love must be moderated, otherwise his hide and his reign would soon be at an end.
During this alternate appearance and disappearance Goliah remained seated among the feathery branches of a palm which grew directly in front of the building, and one could almost fancy he was taking notes, so carefully did he watch every movement of the king, or so eagerly did he peer around when his majesty retreated.
It was hardly to be supposed that the huge baboon would exert himself to prolong a reign which had begun with his own discomfiture, and on his last appearance Philip realized that to again leave the building would be to give Goliah an opportunity of pursuing his investigations to a successful termination.
To repel an attack was no longer possible. During the last battle the ammunition had been so far exhausted that not more than twenty cartridges and one not very serviceable weapon was left. Therefore from force of arms Philip could expect nothing.
That evening the animal-trainer who was playing the part of king in Apeland made one more attempt to restore the symbol of his royalty to its former condition. With infinite care he laced and relaced the rent until he flattered himself it was nearly as well concealed as if done by the most skillful tailor, and putting it on again, decided that he might trust himself even in the presence of Goliah.
His mind was so nearly at ease that he ate a hearty supper from the store of provisions in the kitchen pantry and laid himself down to rest, believing he had secured a yet longer lease to the throne of apedom.
Alas for the vanity of human hopes! Immediately on falling asleep he dreamed he was once more standing before his army, saluting them with mighty leaps and wonderful contortions of body. He awakened to find himself sprawling on the floor, with the hide of his predecessor slit from the jointure of the tail entirely to the neck!
His struggles in dreamland had precipitated the catastrophe. There was not string enough in the building to repair this last rent, even had he been sufficiently skillful to thread it into the partially decayed hide.
To appear in public on the balcony was no longer possible, and he was a king only while he could remain hidden from view. When the least intelligent of his subjects got a glimpse of him his crown was lost, never more to be recovered, and Goliah would reign in his stead—Goliah, from whom hemight expect the most cruel reprisals for the temporary loss of power.
Philip was so certain a cruel fate awaited him that he immediately began to barricade the suite of apartments as thoroughly as possible under the circumstances, and before another morning dawned every movable article of furniture was piled against the doors in the hope that the final moment might be delayed a short time.
Then, retreating to the kitchen, he awaited the inevitable.
From this retired spot he could hear the chattering and howling of his subjects as they assembled once more to make inquiries concerning his health, and he knew beyond a peradventure that not many hours would elapse before they began to force their way into the building.
Philip’s dismal forebodings were destined to be realized within a very short time. If his subjects had been impatient on the day previous because they only saw him on the balcony, they were furious now when the windows and doors remained closed and their king came not forth to greet them.
From his place of refuge he could hear a murmuring sound, as of the waves on the sea-shore; but after an hour passed this had increased to a deafening roar, which was echoed and re-echoed from every portion of the forest until it seemed as if the entire island must be covered with apes searching for their ruler.
Now and then the fugitive could hear a hoarse cry, which arose above the general din, and in it he believed he recognized Goliah’s voice. The huge baboon, who had been only suspicious on the day previous, was probably positive now that the king was not all he should be, and was most likely inciting the multitude to open rebellion.
Judging from the events which followed, it was not a hard task to induce these long-tailed subjects to rise in their might, for before noon the attack was begun.
The apes, probably understanding that they could not learn the cause of the king’s indisposition and sudden disappearance except by demolishing the building which they themselves had reared, made a furious attack on all four sides at the same moment.
From previous experience Philip knew that in this assault they must necessarily be successful owing to their numbers, and also because it was no longer possible for him to interpose any lengthy resistance; therefore he remained in one corner of the kitchen, with the musket in his hands and the small amount of ammunition in his pocket, resolved to sell his life dearly when the supreme moment should arrive.
Against the sides of the building the heavy missiles rattled like hail; the walls shook under the repeated blows, and now and then the crashing and splintering of roof-timbers told that slowly but surely Philip’s place of refuge was being reduced to a ruin.
At rare intervals the bombardment ceased as the entire army burst forth in noisy cries of grief, deafening howls of sympathy, and groans which were intended to be expressive of tenderness.
This mourning for their king was always followed by a more vigorous onslaught, and, as near as Philip could judge, it was about the hour of sunset when the building gave way beneath a shower of rocks. First a heavy crash from above told that the roof had fallen; then the front wall was forced in, probably burying amid its ruins the papers and books of Captain Seaworth, and causing Philip’s hiding-placeto rock to and fro like a tree shaken by the wind.
Finally there came that which Philip had not anticipated.
Instead of the dwelling being demolished in such a manner that he was exposed to view, the walls, besieged on every side, fell inward; and at the last deafening crash he commended himself to God, for it seemed positive he was buried alive.
In the brief space of time which elapsed from the first shattering of the side-wall until the end came Philip thought, with intense relief, that he would be crushed to death rather than murdered by those who had been so loyal a few days previous. Then the ceiling and sides of the room burst in, sending forth great clouds of dust, which from the outside must have looked like smoke ascending from a funeral pyre.
The assailants were silenced—awed by their work. The building was nothing more than a mass of ruin, but yet no trace of their king could be seen.
Looking from the outside, one would have said there could be no living thing beneath these enormous fragments of rock and wood; and yet, strange as it may seem, Philip was there with not so much as a single scratch upon his body. It was destined that his life should not be taken by his subjects during an assault planned by Goliah.
The heavy furniture, piled up from the door of the cupboard to the corner of the room as a barricade in case the apes succeeded in entering thebuilding, had been sufficient to uphold the weight which fell upon it, and the timbers of the ceiling had formed across the top a perfect support.
The king of the apes, whose reign had been of such short duration, was thus literally buried alive; but in this accidental tomb he had provisions sufficient to serve him many days.
For a few moments after the falling of the timbers Philip congratulated himself upon this fact; but his joy was short-lived. He soon realized that unless—as was improbable—he could have aid from the outside, the stock of provisions would simply serve to prolong his wretched life a certain time, after which death must inevitably come.
“At all events I need not starve,” he said to himself after some reflection, as he raised his musket; and with the knowledge that he could invoke death before the torture of hunger and thirst became agonizing, he grew more resigned.
Then came a long time of silence, which was finally broken by the sound as of some one digging from above.
“Probably the night has passed, during which the apes were asleep, and now they are searching for my body,” Philip said to himself; and although he knew death would be inevitable in case of discovery (for the mandrill skin had literally been torn from his body), it was with a certain sense of relief he learned that the debris from above was being removed.
Yet one does not welcome death, however full oftorture may be the alternative; and when the noise made by the army of laborers grew more distinct, telling that they were approaching nearer to his narrow prison each moment, the thought of the struggle which must ensue was very painful. With twenty cartridges he would hardly be able to hold the first squad of laborers in check sixty seconds. Then, unarmed, he must meet those whom he had so unwittingly deceived.
As the moments passed he was able to form a definite idea of the approach of his enemies, for in such a light must he now consider his former subjects. Already could he see tiny rays of light through the crevices of the rocks and timbers, and the shower of dust which fell upon him told that but a few feet of the debris remained between him and the open air.
Now he clutched his musket more firmly and stood on the alert, prepared to spring forward at the instant the aperture was sufficiently large to admit of the passage of his body, although he knew that the ruins were surrounded by an army so great that it would be impossible to make his way twenty feet before receiving a death-wound.
It was at this moment, when he had nerved himself for the struggle he believed was about to ensue, that he felt, rather than heard, a noise directly beneath his feet, and even while wondering as to the cause of it an upheaval of the floor told that the enemy were searching for him both above and below.
Then one of the boards upon which he stood was pushed aside, almost overturning him, and he leveled his musket, ready to fire when they should spring upon him out of what was evidently a tunnel.
The fragments from above had been so far removed by this time that the darkness was partially dispersed, allowing him to see everything in the vicinity quite distinctly.
An ape’s head presented itself from this unexpected aperture, and, in order to save his ammunition as far as possible, Philip raised his musket to strike. Another instant and there would have been one ape the less on the island—an event well calculated to plunge the prisoner into an agony of grief.
It was the chimpanzee, Ben Bolt, and not one of Goliah’s adherents, who had thus come from the very earth, as it were; and an instant later the besieged youth was shaking the animal by the paw as if he were a human being, for there could be no question but that the two chimpanzees had formed some plan to extricate their old master from his perilous position.
There was no time to be wasted in ceremonies, however. The laborers above had so nearly reached the tiny place of refuge that fragments of stone were already falling between the timbers, and the chimpanzee realized quite as well as did Philip that to make this means of escape practicable they must beat an immediate retreat.
The former stood at the edge of the tunnel and pointed downward with an impatient gesture.
Philip descended into a narrow excavation barely large enough to admit of his crawling on his hands and knees; and here, as if waiting for him, was the other chimpanzee, who immediately led the way through the passage, assuring herself that he would follow by winding her long tail around his neck in such a manner that he must perforce be dragged if he could not creep.
Had a spectator been in the place so lately occupied by Philip he would have seen Ben Bolt pull the furniture together even above his head, and then, retreating into the hole, drag some of the floor-boards after him to hide the existence of the tunnel.
In this he displayed reasoning powers beyond a peradventure, for those who were working above would, on reaching the bottom, find no evidences of an excavation, and it was hardly probable they would pursue their investigation any further than the floor of the room.