Chapter 30 - Ran Away to Sea by Mayne Reid
Do not suppose that we considered ourselves safe. We were simply safe for the moment—as our disappearance into the hollow of the tree, being sudden and unexpected, had taken the mandrills by surprise, and they had not followed us inside. Nevertheless they had rushed after—the whole troop of them at our heels—and from their demonstrations, it was evident they would not delay long before jumping through the doorway, and assailing us within the chamber. They were already close to the entrance, and with loud gibbering menaced us from the outside. Another moment, and we might expect them to charge in upon us.
The entrance was yet open—the slab lay outside, and we dared not go back for it—we had nothing to use for a door—nothing by which we could shut the brutes out; and all we could think of was to stand by the entrance and defend it as we best might. Ben with the long musket, and I with a brand, which I still clutched, but which no longer blazed, and could only be used as a bludgeon. Should these weapons fail, we would have to take out our knives, and make the best fight we could; but we knew that if the baboons once got inside, so as to surround us, we should not have long to live.
The screaming brutes had all come up, and we could see them plainly under the blaze of the faggots. They covered the whole space between the trunk of the tree and the fire; and as near as we could estimate their number, there were about three score of them. They danced madly about, uttering loud wails—as if lamenting their fallen comrades—and then breaking out into more clamorous cries, that expressed rage and the desire for vengeance. They had not yet made their rush for the entrance; but there was a large crowd of them standing, or rather leaping about in front of it, that seemingly only waited for some signal to spring forward.
We stood in anxious expectation—holding our weapons ready to dash them back. We knew we could do nothing more than “job” them; and we were apprehensive about the result. Despite all our efforts, some of them might get past us; and then we should be assailed in the rear, and of course vanquished and destroyed.
“If we only could get at the door?” said I, looking towards the slab, which could be seen where it lay outside.
“’Tan’t possible,” answered Ben, “the filthy beasts are all around it—they’d pull us to pieces if we only showed nose outside. Dash my buttons. Will! if I han’t got a plan—we’ll do without the door—you keep ’em back while I stop the gap. Here take the gun—its better’n that stick—look sharp, lad!—knock ’em back—that’s the way!”
And in this manner Ben continued to direct me, long after he had delivered the musket into my hands. I noticed that he had glided behind me, but for what purpose I could not guess; but, indeed, I had no time for guessing, as the baboons were now beyond all doubt resolved to force an entrance, and it required all my strength and activity to keep them back with the muzzle of the piece. One after another sprang up on the step of the narrow doorway, and one after another was sent rolling back again, by blows that I gave with all the force I could put into my arms; and these blows I was compelled to repeat as rapidly, as the strokes of a blacksmith’s hammer in the shoeing of a horse.
I could not have continued the exercise long. I should soon have been tired down at it; and then the implacable crowd would have rushed in; but it was not necessary for me to work very long—for just then, I felt my companion pressing past me towards the entrance, which the next moment became darkened up. Only through some chinks, could I distinguish the blaze beyond, and only through these was the light admitted into the chamber!
What had caused the interruption? What was it that was stopping up the entrance? was it the body of my companion, who was thus exposing himself to the assaults of the infuriated crowd without?
Not a bit of it. Ben Brace knew better than to sacrifice his life in that idle way; and, on stretching forward his hand, and touching the dark mass that was now interposed between us and the danger, I perceived what it was. It was one of the malefactors!
Neither more nor less was it than one of the mummies, which Ben had seized hold of, and, after doubling it up, had crammed chuck into the entrance, which it nearly filled from bottom to top.
The barricade was not yet complete; and my companion after directing me to hold it in place, glided back to procure another of the same. This he soon brought forward, and after doubling it up as he had done the first, and bundling it into the proper size and shape—regardless of the snapping of bones and the crackling of joints—he pushed it in alongside the other, until the two wedged each other, and completely shut up the doorway!
Such a scene might have been comic enough—notwithstanding the sacred character of the place—but neither my companion nor I were in any humour for comedy. Matters were still too serious; and although the idea of this skeleton barricade was a good one, we were not yet assured of safety. It might only give us a temporary respite; for we feared that our ferocious assailants would attack the mummies with their teeth, and soon demolish the barrier that lay between us.
And this they certainly would have done, but for a contrivance which occurred to us; and that was to leave two small apertures through which we could still “job” them, and keep them off. Two chinks were found between the bodies of the malefactors, and these were soon worked to the proper size—so that the musket could be protruded through one, and the stick through the other—and by keeping these weapons in constant play, we were able to push back the brutes, whenever they approached near enough to seize hold of our skeleton barricade.
Fortunately the doorway sloped out from the chamber—after the manner of an embrasure in a fortress—and on this account the bodies were wedged tightly against the cheeks on both sides; so that although it would have been easy to remove them from the inside, it would have required a strong pull to have drawn them outward. So long, therefore, as we could prevent the mandrills from tearing them to pieces, we should be safe enough.
For more than an hour we were kept at constant work, shoving our weapons backward and forward like a pair of sawyers. At length, however, the assaults of the enemy outside, became feebler, and more desultory. They began to perceive that they could not effect an entrance, and as most of them had by this time received a good punch in the head, or between the ribs, they were not so eager to try it again.
But, although they at length desisted from their attempts to break in upon us, we could still hear them as before. We could no longer see them—for the fire had gone out, and all was darkness, both outside and within.
Not a ray of light reached us from any quarter; and we passed the night in the midst of perfect darkness and gloom.
But not in silence: all night long the troop kept up its chorus of screams, and howlings and wailings; and although we listened attentively in the hopes that we might hear some signs of departure, our ears were not gratified by any such sounds.
It was certainly one of the most unpleasant nights that either my companion or I had ever passed. I need not say that neither of us slept, we had not a wink of sleep throughout the live-long night; nor would it have been possible for Morpheus himself to have slept under the circumstances. We had heard of the implacable disposition which not only the mandrills, but other baboon-monkeys exhibit when they have been assailed by an enemy; we had heard that their resentment once kindled, cannot be again allayed until the object of it either becomes their victim, or else escapes altogether beyond their reach. With the monkey tribe it is not as with lions, buffaloes, rhinoceroses, or other dangerous beasts that maybe encountered in the forests of Africa. When the enemy is out of sight, all these animals seem to forget the assault that may have been made upon them, or, at all events, soon give over their hostile intentions. Not so with the baboons. These monstrous creatures possess an intelligence far superior to that of ordinary quadrupeds. In fact, they are capable of a certain amount of reasoning power, which although far inferior in degree to that of the human species, is nevertheless of precisely the same character.
There are some people who think it savouring of profanity to make an assertion of this kind; but there are people of very weak minds, who are afraid to look philosophy in the face, lest it should contradict some favourite dogma, in which they have long been accustomed to put faith. Such people will boldly give denial to the most positive facts, that may be observed both in the geological and zoological world; and do not scruple to give hard names to those who have the candour to acknowledge these facts. It is absurd to deny that monkeys are possessed of reasoning powers; no man could stand five minutes in front of a monkeys’ cage in any of our great zoological gardens, without being convinced of this fact.
With the baboons, the reasoning faculty is not so strongly developed as it is in some other species of the ape tribe, as the great ourang and the chimpanzee; but for all that, Ben Brace and I knew it was strong enough to enable them fully to understand the situation in which we were placed, and to know that we could not possibly escape from our tree-prison without passing before their eyes. We knew, too, that their passions were still stronger than their reasoning powers; that after such offence as we had given them, by killing one of their number—perhaps a venerated leader of the tribe—wounding another, and administering violent “punches” to nearly every individual in the gang, there was not the slightest probability that they would suffer us to escape without first trying the effect of a long siege upon us.
If this was to be the case, we could have no hope of escape. The mandrills might remain upon the ground as long as they pleased. Some might go off to obtain food and drink, while the others watched; and thus they could relieve one another. For that matter, drink was to be had near at hand—at the fine spring where we had eaten our supper—though, for any good it could do us, it might as well have been fifty miles off. Food too the monkeys could easily procure in the woods close by the base of the hill, or they might sustain themselves on the large fruit of the baobab, which was their favourite and peculiar food, and on this account called the monkeys’ bread-fruit. In fact, my companion and I now suspected that the great tree was their habitual place of resort—their roost or dwelling-place—and that they had been just on their way home, from their day’s rambling in the woods, when they first came upon us. This would account for the fierce and unprovoked attack which they had at once made upon our camp.
Under all these considerations then it was no wonder that neither of us thought of going to sleep, but on the contrary, sat up throughout the whole night, kept awake by a full apprehension of our peril. We had hopes—though we were far from being sanguine about it—that as soon as day broke, our besiegers might be tempted to follow their habitual routine, and might go off into the woods.
Alas! when morning came, we saw to our dismay that they had no such design; from their cries and gestures we were satisfied that the siege was to be sustained. They were all there—all that we had seen upon the preceding night—and it appeared as if there were many more. No doubt others had joined them from the woods; for there were not less than a hundred of them. The hideous brutes appeared all around—some squatted on the ground, some up in the branches of the baobab—and in the midst of a chattering group we could see the carcass of the one that had been killed while close by was the wounded individual, also surrounded by sympathising friends.
Now and again, a band would collect together; and apparently inspired by a fresh burst of rage, would crowd up to the entrance of our asylum, and renew their attack upon the barricade. We, as before, would repel them, until they perceived that their attempts were futile, and then they would desist, and retire until something arising among themselves seemed to instigate them to a renewed assault.
This was their conduct throughout the whole of that day, and during all the time were we kept shut up in our gloomy cell. We had strengthened our barricade—by materials obtained from the third malefactor—and so far felt safe enough; but we now began to have fears of another enemy—one that was as terrible in its attack, and as powerful to destroy, as either the mandrills, or the strong lion himself. That enemy was not new to us; we had already had an encounter with it; we had met it among the branches of the dragon-tree, and we were now to meet it again beside the trunk of the baobab. It was thirst.
Yes, we already experienced its painful sensation. Every moment it was gaining ground upon us, and its pangs becoming keener and harder to endure. Should the siege continue much longer, we knew not how we could endure it.
Should the siege continue? It did continue throughout all that day, the fierce brutes remained by the tree throughout all the following night; and when the second morning dawned, we saw them around as numerous as ever, and apparently as implacable and determined on vengeance as they had been at their first onset!
What were we to do? Without rest, without sleep, without food, but worst of all without water, we could exist no longer. To go out was to be destroyed—torn to atoms—devoured; to stay where we were was to die of thirst—a more lingering and painful death! what were we to do?
We were in deep despair—we had almost yielded up the hope of being saved—not almost, but altogether.
We could have had no hope, except that our assailants might become tired of the protracted siege and leave us. But, as already observed, these creatures possess intelligence that resembles that of human beings. They perfectly comprehended our situation, and knowing it, were not likely to give us any chance of escape; there was no hope.
In this belief had we continued for some time, sitting side by side in a state of extreme dejection. Neither of us said a word. We had nothing to say—no counsel to offer to each other.
We had several times talked over the possibility of fighting our way through the host of mandrills, and escaping by swiftness of foot. We knew that, once in the open ground, we could run faster than they; for although the baboons run well through thickets and woods—where they occasionally help themselves forward by grasping the boughs of the trees—and although upon open ground they progress faster than many other kinds of monkeys, yet a man can outrun them.
This we knew, and were now very regretful that we had not made a burst through their line, and gone off at first, as we should have done. Afterwards it became more difficult to do so, as the crowd got greater, and hemmed us in more closely, and we had looked upon it as altogether impossible. Now, however, that the terrible thirst was impelling us, we had almost made up our minds to issue forth and run the gauntlet. Ben argued that it would be better to do so than perish by inches in that dark cavern; and I was in the mind to agree with him. We would be certain to have a terrible struggle, and be badly torn; in all probability one or both of us would fall: but the prospect appeared the less dreadful on account of the suffering we endured from thirst. I may add that we were hungry as well; but this was but a secondary consideration when compared with the pangs of the sister appetite.
Another cause of uneasiness now presented itself. The baboons, apparently becoming impatient at waiting so long for their vengeance, seemed to have been forming plans of their own, and began to make fresh attempts upon the skeleton barricade. In twos and threes they attacked it with their teeth; and at each assault portions of the dry skin and bones of the mummies were carried off. It was plain that if this should continue much longer the whole three malefactors would be demolished, and we could no longer defend the entrance. Of course after that there could be but one result—our destruction.
More than ever did we give way to despair; and, hardly deeming it worth while to exert ourselves, we remained passively awaiting the crisis.
All of a sudden I perceived my companion rouse himself from his despondent attitude and commence fumbling about over the floor. What could he be after? I put the question.
“I’ve got an idea, Will!” was his reply, “shiver my timbers!” continued he, “if I don’t believe I can scatter them apes to the four points o’ the compass.”
“How?” I eagerly inquired.
“You’ll see, lad! where be the skin o’ the lion?”
“I’m sitting upon it,” said I, “do you want it?”
“Yes—quick! give it me, Will!”
It was by a mere chance that the lion’s hide had been brought inside the chamber. We had not used it as a cover—on account of its being still raw—and, previous to the appearance of the baboons, it had been rolled up, and laid in the entrance of the tree-cave as the fittest place that offered. In rushing inside, it had been kicked before us; and thus it was that we happened to be in possession of it.
Without losing a second of time, I pulled it from under me, and handed it to my companion. I already suspected the use he intended to make of it; and without further explanation, I went to work to assist him in his design.
In ten minutes after, the body of Ben Brace was completely enveloped in the skin of the lion; which was tied and corded around him in such a manner, that it would have required sharper eyes than those of a baboon to have discovered the counterfeit.
His design was to sally forth in this disguise and show himself to the baboons, with the hope that the appearance of their king might terrify them into flight. If it did not produce this effect, Ben reasoned, that we could be no worse off than ever, as he could retreat back into the cave and we could barricade it as before.
There was certainly some probability that the plan might succeed. We knew that nearly all animals have a great dread of the lion, and that the baboons are no exception to the rule. Often the very sight of the forest-monarch will terrify other wild beasts to such an extent that they will run before him as from the presence of a human being. The ingenious plan, therefore, of counterfeiting the lion, which my companion had conceived, was not without good probability of success; and we were both cheered by the prospect.
To make sure that failure should not arise from haste or carelessness in the preparations, we proceeded with due care and caution, and took plenty of time to get everything complete. We sheathed Ben’s arms in the skin that had covered the fore-limbs of the lion, stretching it out till the paws concealed his knuckles. The legs were wrapped in the hide that had enveloped the posterior limbs of the great beast; and we had a good deal of trouble before the “pantaloons” could be made to fit. The head was easily adapted to the crown of the sailor; and the ample skin of the body met in front, and was there fastened by strings. Fortunately we had plenty of cord. That fine piece, that had already done such good service, was still in our possession, and we again made use of it to advantage.
At length the masquerading costume was deemed complete, and the lion was ready to play his part.
We were cautious, too, about the disposal of the mummies, so that, in case of need, they might serve us again: and, when all was arranged to our satisfaction, we pulled them back out of the entrance.
Our manoeuvres had now attracted the attention of the besiegers—who showed by their cries and movements that they were upon the alert.
Just at this crisis the lion sailed forth; and if ever there was a helter-skelter among a troop of monkeys worth witnessing, my companion and I saw it at that moment. There was screaming and yelling, and jabbering and gibbering, and a rushing in every direction—except that which would have conducted towards the counterfeit lion—which beast was all the while making the most violent demonstrations, and uttering loud noises, that in deepness of baritone almost equalled the roar of the forest-monarch himself!
What became of the baboons we could not tell—they seemed to vanish into the earth, or the air: at all events in less than two minutes, from the time the lion made his appearance outside the baobab, not one of them was to be seen; and the tawny quadruped, all at once ceasing to roar like a lion, could be heard emitting from his fierce jaws loud yells of human laughter!
We stayed not much longer under the shadow of the baobab. It was dangerous ground. The mandrills might discover the cheat and come back; so, with this apprehension in our thoughts, we took a hasty leave of our aged friends the mummies, and hurried rapidly down the hill. We halted only to drink, and then pushed onward.
It was near noon of the third day, from the time of our starting on our expedition, before we astonished by our reappearance the crew of the Pandora.