CHAPTER TWELVE.
PETERKIN'S SCHOOLDAY REMINISCENCES.
The day following that on which we shot our first gorilla was a greatand memorable day in our hunting career in Africa, for on that day wesaw no fewer than ten gorillas: two females, seven young ones--one ofwhich was a mere baby gorilla in its mother's arms--and a huge lonemale, or bachelor gorilla, as Peterkin called him. And of these wekilled four--three young ones, and the old bachelor. I am happy to addthat I saved the lives of the infant gorilla and its mother, as I shallpresently relate.
The portion of country through which we travelled this day was not sothickly wooded as that through which we had passed the day before, sothat we advanced more easily, and enjoyed ourselves much as we wentalong. About the middle of the day we came to a spot where there were anumber of wild vines, the leaves of which are much liked by the gorilla,so we kept a sharp lookout for tracks.
Soon we came upon several, as well as broken branches and twigs, inwhich were observed the marks of teeth, showing that our game had beenthere. But we passed from the wood where these signs were discovered,out upon an open plain of considerable extent. Here we paused,undecided as to whether we should proceed onward or remain there tohunt.
"I vote for advancing," said Peterkin, "for I observe that on the otherside of this plain the wood seems very dense, and it is probable that wemay find Mister Gorilla there.--What think you, Mak?"
The guide nodded in reply.
"I move," said Jack, "that as the country just where we stand is wellwatered by this little brook, besides being picturesque and beautiful tolook upon, we should encamp where we are, and leaving our men to guardthe camp, cross this plain--we three take Mak along with us, and spendthe remainder of the day in hunting."
"I vote for the amendment," said I.
"Then the amendment carries," cried Jack, "for in all civilisedsocieties most votes always carry; and although we happen to be in anuncivilised region of the earth, we must not forget that we arecivilised hunters. The vote of two hunters ought certainly to overridethat of one hunter."
Peterkin demurred to this at once, on the ground that it was unfair.
"How so?" said I.
"In the first place," replied he, looking uncommonly wise, and placingthe point of his right finger in the palm of his left hand--"in thefirst place, I do not admit your premises, and therefore I object toyour conclusion. I do not admit that in civilised societies most votescarry; on the contrary, it too frequently happens that, in civilisedsocieties, motions are made, seconded, discussed, and carried withoutbeing put to the vote at all; often they are carried without being made,seconded, or discussed--as when a bottle-nosed old gentleman in officechooses to ignore the rights of men, and carry everything his own way.Neither do I admit that we three are civilised hunters; for although itis true that I am, it is well-known that you, Ralph, are a philosopher,and Jack is a gorilla. Therefore I object to your conclusion that yourtwo votes should carry; for you cannot but admit that the vote of onehunter ought to override that of two such creatures, which would not bethe case were there an equality existing between us."
"Peterkin," said I, "there is fallacy in your reasoning."
"Can you show it?" said he.
"No; the web is too much ravelled to disentangle."
"Not at all," cried Jack; "I can unravel it in a minute, and settle thewhole question by proving that there does exist an equality between us;for it is well-known, and generally admitted by all his friends, andmust be acknowledged by himself, that Peterkin is an ass."
"Even admitting that," rejoined Peterkin, "it still remains to be provedthat a philosopher, a gorilla, and an ass are equal. Of course Ibelieve the latter to be superior to both the former animals; but inconsideration of the lateness of the hour, and the able manner in whichyou have discussed this subject, I beg to withdraw my motion, and tostate that I am ready to accompany you over the plain as soon as youplease."
At this point our conversation was interrupted by the shriek of a smallmonkey, which had been sitting all the time among the branches of thetree beneath which we stood.
"I declare it has been listening to us," cried Peterkin.
"Yes, and is shouting in triumph at your defeat," added Jack.
As he spoke, Makarooroo fired, and the monkey fell to the ground almostat our feet.
"Alas! it has paid a heavy price for its laugh," said Peterkin, in atone of sadness.
The poor thing was mortally wounded; so much so that it could not evencry. It looked up with a very piteous expression in our faces. Placingits hand on its side, it coughed once or twice, then lying down on itsback and stretching itself out quite straight, it closed its eyes anddied.
I never could bear to shoot monkeys. There was something so terriblyhuman-like in their sufferings, that I never could witness the death ofone without feeling an almost irresistible inclination to weep.Sometimes, when short of provisions, I was compelled to shoot monkeys,but I did so as seldom as possible, and once I resolved to go supperlessto bed rather than shoot one whose aspect was so sad and gentle that Ihad not the heart to kill it. My companions felt as I did in thismatter, and we endeavoured to restrain Makarooroo as much as possible;but he could not understand our feelings, and when he got a chance of ashot, almost invariably forgot our injunctions to let monkeys aloneunless we were absolutely ill off for food. To do him justice, however,I must add that we were at this particular time not overburdened withprovisions, and the men were much pleased to have the prospect of aroast monkey for supper.
Having given our men a little tobacco, a gift which caused their blackfaces to beam with delight, we shouldered our rifles and set off acrossthe plain towards the thick wood, which was not more than five milesdistant, if so much.
It was a beautiful scene, this plain with its clumps of trees scatteredover it like islands in a lake, and its profusion of wild flowers. Theweather, too, was delightful--cooler than usual--and there was afreshness in the air which caused us to feel light of heart, while thecomparative shortness of the grass enabled us to proceed on our way withlight steps. As we walked along for some time in silence, I thoughtupon the goodness and the provident care of the Creator of our world;for during my brief sojourn in Africa I had observed many instances ofthe wonderful exactness with which things in nature were suited to thecircumstances in which they were placed, and the bountiful provisionthat was made everywhere for man and beast. Yet I must confess I couldnot help wondering, and felt very much perplexed, when I thought of thebeautiful scenes in the midst of which I moved being inhabited only bysavage men, who seemed scarcely to appreciate the blessings by whichthey were surrounded, and who violated constantly all the laws of Him bywhom they were created. My meditations were interrupted by Jacksaying--
"I cannot help wondering why that poor monkey kept so still all the timewe were talking. One would think that it should have been frightenedaway just as we came under the tree."
"I have no doubt," said I, "that although of course it could notunderstand what we said, yet it was listening to us."
"I'm not so certain that it did not understand," observed Peterkin."You know that sailors believe that monkeys could speak if they chose,but they don't for fear that they should be made to work!"
"Well, whatever truth there may be in that, of this I am certain, theyare the most deceptive creatures that exist."
"I don't agree with you," rejoined Peterkin. "It's my opinion thatlittle boys are the greatest deceivers living."
"What! _all_ little boys!" exclaimed Jack.
"No, not all. I have not so bad an opinion of the race as that. I'vehad a good deal to do with boys during my naval career, and among themiddies of her Majesty's navy I have met with as fine little chaps asone would wish to see--regular bricks, afraid of nothing (except ofdoing anything that would be thought sneaking or shabby), ready to dareanything--to attack a seventy-four single-handed in a punt or a bumboatif need be; nevertheless, I've met boys, and a good many of
them too,who would beat all the monkeys in Africa at sneaking and deceiving. Iremember one rascal, who went to the same school with me, who was awonderfully plausible deceiver. I can't help laughing yet when I thinkof the curious way he took to free himself of the restraint of school."
"How was it?" cried Jack; "tell us about it--do."
"Well, you must know," began Peterkin, "that this boy was what Jack tarswould call a `great, stupid, lubberly fellow.' He was a veryfair-haired, white eyelashed sort of chap, that seemed to grow at such arate that he was always too big for his clothes, and showed an unusualamount of wrist and ankle even for a boy. Most people who met himthought him a very stupid boy at first; but those who came to know himwell found that he was rather a sharp, clever fellow, but a remarkablyshy dog. We called him Doddle.
"His mother was a widow, and he was an only son, and had been spoiled,of course, so that he was not put to school till he was nearly twelveyears of age. He had been at several schools before coming to ours, buthad been deemed by each successive schoolmaster a hopeless imbecile.And he was so mischievous that they advised his poor mother to take himaway and try if she could not instil a little knowledge into himherself. The old lady was a meek, simple body, and quite as stupid asher hopeful son appeared to be. Hearing that our master was a sharpfellow, and somewhat noted as a good manager of obstreperous boys, shebrought him to our school as a last resource, and having introduced himto the master, went her way.
"It was near the end of play-hour when she brought him, so he was turnedout into the playground, and stood there looking like a mongrel curturned unexpectedly into a kennel of pointers.
"`Well, Doddle,' said one of the sixth-form boys, going up to him andaddressing him for the first time by the name which stuck to him everafter, `where did _you_ grow; and who cut you down and tossed you inhere?'
"`Eh?' said Doddle, looking sheepish.
"`What's your name, man, and where did you come from, and how old areyou, and how far can you jump without a race? and in fact I want to knowall about you.'
"`My name's Tommy Thompson,' replied the boy, `and I--'
"At that moment the bell rang, and the remainder of his sentence wasdrowned in the rush of the rest of us to the classroom.
"When all was quiet the master called Doddle up, and said, `Well,Thompson, my boy, your mother tells me you have learned a little grammarand a little arithmetic. I hope that we shall instil into you a gooddeal of those branches of learning, and of many others besides, erelong. Let me hear what you can do.'
"`I can play hockey and dumps,' began Doddle, in a sing-song tone, andwith the most uncommonly innocent expression of visage; `an' I can--'
"`Stay, boy,' interrupted the master, smiling; `I do not want to knowwhat you can _play_ at. Keep silence until I put a few questions toyou. What is English grammar?'
"`Eh?'
"`Don't say "Eh!" When you fail to understand me, say "Sir?"interrogatively. What is English grammar?'
"`It's a book.'
"The master looked over the top of his spectacles at Doddle in surprise.
"`English grammar,' said he, slowly, and with a slight touch ofsternness, `is indeed contained in a book; but I wish to know what itteaches.'
"`Eh?--a--I mean sir interrogatively.'
"`What does English grammar _teach_, boy?' cried the master angrily.
"Doddle laid hold of his chin with his right hand, and looked down atthe floor with an air of profound thought, saying slowly, in anundertone to himself, `What--does--English--grammar--teach--teach--grammar--teach? It--teaches--a--I don't know _what_ it teaches.Perhaps you can tell me, sir?'
"He looked up, and uttered the last sentence with such an air of blankhumility that we all had to cram our pocket handkerchiefs into ourmouths to prevent a universal explosion. The master looked over hisspectacles again at Doddle with an expression of unutterable amazement.We looked on with breathless interest, not unmingled with awe, for weexpected some awful outbreak on the part of the master, who seemed quiteunable to make up his mind what to do or say, but continued to stare fornearly a minute at the boy, who replied to the stare with a humble,idiotic smile.
"Suddenly the master said sharply, `How much are seven times nine?'
"`Five hundred and forty-two and a half,' answered Doddle, without amoment's hesitation.
"The master did not look surprised this time, but he took Doddle by theshoulder, and drawing him towards his chair, looked earnestly into hisface. Then he said quietly, `That will do, Thompson; go to your seat.'
"This was all that occurred at that time. During a whole week themaster tried by every means to get Doddle to learn something; but Doddlecould learn nothing. Yet he seemed to try. He pored over his book, andmuttered with his lips, and sometimes looked anxiously up at theceiling, with an expression of agony on his face that seemed to indicatea tremendous mental effort. Every species of inducement was tried, andoccasionally punishment was resorted to. He was kept in at play-hours,and put in a corner during school-hours; and once, the master havinglost patience with him, he was flogged. But it was all one to Doddle.All the methods tried proved utterly unavailing. He could not be got toacquire a single lesson, and often gave such remarkable answers that weall believed him to be mad.
"On the Monday forenoon of his second week at the school, the mastercalled him up again for examination.
"`Now, Thompson,' he began, `you have been a long time over that lesson;let us see how much of it you have learned. What is etymology?'
"`Etymology,' answered Doddle, `is--is--an irregular pronoun.'
"`Boy!' cried the master sternly.
"`Please, sir,' pleaded Doddle, with deprecatory air, `I--I suppose Iwas thinkin' o' one o' the _other_ mologies, not the etty one.'
"`Ha!' ejaculated the master; `well, tell me, how many parts of speechare there?'
"`Nineteen,' answered the boy, quite confidently.
"`Oh!' exclaimed the master, with a good deal of sarcasm in his tone;`pray, name them.'
"In a very sing-song voice, and with an air of anxious simplicity,Doddle began, `Article, noun, adjective, pronoun, verb, adverb,preposition, conjunction, interjection, outerjection, beginning with_ies_ in the plural--as, baby, babies; lady, ladies; hady, hadies.Please, sir, isn't that last one a _bad_ word?'
"`The boy is a lunatic!' muttered the master.
"The boys in the class were far past laughing now; we were absolutelystunned. The master seemed perplexed, for Doddle was gazing at him witha look of mild self-satisfaction.
"`I say, Peterkin,' whispered the boy next to me, `as sure as you'realive that boy's shamming stupid.'
"Presently the master, who had been turning over the leaves of thegrammar in a way that showed he was not conscious of what he was about,looked up, and said abruptly, `What is a proper noun?'
"`A well-behaved one,' replied Doddle.
"At this the whole school tittered violently.
"`Silence, boys,' cried the master, in a tone that produced the desiredeffect so thoroughly that you might have heard a pin drop. Then layinghis hand on Doddle's shoulder, he looked him full in the face, and saidsolemnly, `Thompson, _I have found you out_. Go, sir, to your seat, andremain behind when the other boys go to the playground.'
"We observed that Doddle grew very red in the face as he came back tohis seat, and during the rest of the hour he never once looked up.
"During the whole of the play-hour the master and he remained shut uptogether in the schoolroom. We never discovered what took place therebetween them, for neither threats nor coaxing could induce Doddleafterwards to speak on the subject; but from that day forward he was achanged boy. He not only learned his lessons, but he learned them well,and in the course of time became one of the best scholars in the school;so that although he never would admit it, we all came to the conclusionhe had been shamming stupid--attempting to deceive the master into thebelief that he was incurable, and thus manage to get rid of lessons andschool altogether."
"A most remarkable boy," observed Jack when Peterkin concluded."Certainly he beat the monkeys hollow."
"I wonder," said I, "what the master said or did to him that wroughtsuch a mighty change."
"Don't know," replied Peterkin; "I suppose he told him that now he hadfound him out, he would flay him alive if he didn't give in, orsomething of that sort."
We had now entered the dark forest that edged the plain over which wehad been walking, and further conversation on this subject was stopped,and the subject itself banished utterly from our minds by the loud,startling cry of a gorilla at no great distance from us.
"Hist! that's him," whispered Peterkin.
Instantly throwing our rifles into a position of readiness we pushedrapidly through the underwood in the direction whence the cry had come.
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