The King of the Monkey Men

by A. Hyatt Verrill

  Before I fully realized what they were doing, one of the giants had seized me and lifted me above his head as easily as though I had been a child. The next second one of the fellows above reached down, grasped me by the waist, heaved me up like a sack of meal, and actually tossed me like a ball to another savage still higher up. Too astounded and frightened to cry out, and breathless from my rough handling, I merely gasped as I was tossed about like a handball. A moment later, one of the creatures sprang forward, seized me in his arms, and leaped off among the branches, carrying me with no apparent effort.

  Never had any other mortal such a ride. The being traveled with the speed and agility of a squirrel. He leaped from branch to branch, sometimes catching by his free hand and his feet, sometimes grasping a branch with one hand and swinging forward for a dozen feet or so to a neighboring tree; and again running upright along some projecting limb and leaping off through space or through foliage, but invariably landing as softly, as easily as a bird, never missing a foothold or colliding with a branch or twig. At first I was terrified, nauseated and I felt dizzy and in constant fear of being dropped or torn from my captor's grasp by some branch. But presently I began to enjoy the strange sensation. The gigantic being traveled as surely and easily as though he bore no burden, and I was not even scratched by the limbs or branches, as he raced along. Mile after mile I was carried in this strange way, shifted from one creature to another from time to time, until at last the monkey-men slackened their mad pace and broke the silence they had maintained up till then. Their cries were answered from ahead, and a moment later, the tree-tops vanished and I felt my carrier spring from an outflung branch. For what seemed an endless time, we sailed through space until, with a soft thud of his thick-soled feet, my captor landed on some solid material and released his grasp of my body.

  Dazed, I gazed about to find myself on a narrow shelf of rock with a precipice above and below. Before me, the red-leaved forest stretched into the distance, and a little above the ledge where I sat, a great tree spread its branches towards me. Even as I tried to collect my senses, several of the monkey-men ran out upon a branch of this tree, leaped into the air, and like gigantic flying-squirrels, sailed through the intervening space and landed lightly upon the rock beside me. It was more than marvelous; it was actually incredible that any human being could be so sure-footed, so agile as to accomplish this feat,

  Yet I had actually witnessed it. I knew that I myself had reached the shelf of rock by the same method, borne through twenty feet of air in the grasp of one of the creatures. Glancing down at the perpendicular wall with the jagged debris fully one hundred feet below, I drew back shuddering at thought of what might have happened had my captor missed his footing, miscalculated his distance or released his grip of his human freight. Then I noticed that the number of beings on the ledge had greatly increased. There were not more than twenty who had come through the trees, yet now the ledge was fairly crowded with the strange creatures. All were chattering excitedly, and it was evident that those who had brought me were telling their friends of the trip. Presently there was a chorus of loud cries, and a monkey-man leaped from the tree to the ledge. He was, I saw, carrying the dead Waupona bird, and at sight of it every monkey-man bowed his forehead to the rock and uttered low, moaning sounds.

  Then they arose and listened, while the newcomer apparently told of the bird's death, and, as I judged from his tones and gestures, related how I had brought down one of the creatures with my gun. The expressions of wonder and fear that filled their faces as they listened convinced me that, with my gun, I could always have cowed the beings and been safe. But my weapon was irretrievably lost at the bottom of the river. Even the few matches in my pockets were wet and useless for performing impressive miracles. I did not have a single article which could be used for the purpose. My sole possessions were my pipe and some tobacco, my notebook and pencil, a pocket knife and handkerchief, and a handful of now useless cartridges. Somewhere my watch had been lost—probably in my mad flight from the forest —and I never carried a compass, flint, steel and tinder, or the various other articles which story tellers are so fond of utilizing in their tales, when the hero desires to work seeming miracles to impress savages.

  I had little time for such thoughts, however. The leader of the crowd was signalling me to follow him, and with no choice in the matter I trudged along the ledge. The path ascended rapidly, rounded an angle on the mountain side, and, turning abruptly, entered a narrow fissure in the face of the cliff.

  The sudden transition from bright sunshine to almost Stygian darkness blinded me temporarily, and I proceeded for fully one hundred feet through the tunnel-like passage before I was able to distinguish my surroundings. Then, ahead, I caught a glimmer of ruddy light, and a moment later, we emerged in an immense, lofty chamber; a huge cavern formed by nature, its vaulted roof hung with stalactites, among which was an aperture which admitted daylight and illuminated the cave with a faint radiance.

  In the centre of the rock floor a large fire burned brightly, casting a lurid glare upon the walls, which glistened with minute crystals that gleamed and scintillated like myriads of gems. Everywhere in the walls I could see the yawning, black entrances to smaller caves or passages while, squatted around the walls, seated by the fire and peering from the holes, were scores of the monkey-men with their women and children. All this I saw as we crossed the few yards of space between the passageway and the fire.

  Then my captors halted and threw themselves upon the floor and uttered wailing cries. Before us, seated upon a rude bench, formed by knocking a cluster of stalagmites to pieces, was an enormous monkey-man. His tangled beard fell to his bulging middle, his stiff hair stood out about his sinister face like a lion's mane, and on his head was a crown of the purple plumes of the Waupona bird. Instantly I recognized him as the King of the Monkey-men, and equally instantly I took a violent and deep-seated dislike for the savage, glowering, old potentate.

  He was by far the ugliest being I had ever seen. The most hideous of his subjects was a beauty by comparison, and his expression was indescribably cruel, bestial and crafty. Yet, despite his ugliness and repulsiveness, his matted filthy hair and beard, and his black fat body, there was something regal in his appearance, as with a frown on his forehead and his reddened eyes gleaming, he surveyed me with a haughty contemptuous stare.

  And I could not help admiring his self-control. Although I felt sure that he was consumed with curiosity at my appearance, yet he gave no sign of wonder or surprise, he merely stared at me with his wicked eyes. Though his gaze was most disconcerting and malignant, I managed to stare back without flinching. This evidently was not at all pleasing to His Majesty and I could see that his ill temper was rising. Doubtless he was accustomed to having all bow before him, and he had no liking for a being who looked him boldly in the eye and failed to kow-tow to his regal presence. He seemed about to speak, but the next second the fellow with the dead Waupona came cringingly to the throne and reverently placed the dead bird on the floor beside the king. Instantly the monarch flew into a towering rage. His mane and hair fairly bristled, his eyes blazed, and he roared out a tirade of words, pointing first at me and then at the bird and in his excitement rising from his throne and crouching like a jaguar ready to spring. Obviously he possessed a most violent temper and a nasty disposition, and I had a hunch that we would not get on at all well together. It was equally clear that the killing of the Waupona was an unpardonable offense and a terrible crime, and that the king held me accountable for it. But as the fellow who had brought the bird strove to explain, and with graphic gestures showed how the creature had been killed by a blowgun in an Indian's hands, the royal temper cooled a bit and the king listened intently. I had expected that I would be brought to trial for shooting the monkey-man whom we had first seen, but he had apparently been quite forgotten in the greater offense of destroying the sacred bird. As far as I could judge, no reference was made to him, but I soon found I was mistaken. The fellow w
as now telling the king of my part in the affairs of the day. His actions were unmistakable, and his imitation of the report of my gun, while it would have been ludicrous at another time, was realistic enough for me. Evidently, however, this was a bit too miraculous a yarn for the king to swallow. He had to be shown. Uttering a sharp command, he pointed to the dead bird and then at me. One of the men lifted the dead bird tenderly, and carrying it across the cave, placed it upon a jutting point of rock. Then, to my amazement, they indicated by signs and gestures that I was to repeat my miracle of the gun and bring down the dead Waupona from its resting place. I was helpless, absolutely at a loss. The monkey-men had quite overlooked the fact that the chief accessory, my gun, was missing; if indeed they had ever seen it. There I stood, racking my brains for some escape from my dilemma while, as proof of the earnestness of the king's intentions, two of the beings held blowguns to their lips and pointed at my body. If I failed to obey the king's orders, I was as good as dead. In all probability, I thought my life would be forfeited anyway. Then, suddenly, an inspiration came to me. My hands, nervously fumbling in my pockets, had come in contact with my cartridges. Holding one of these hidden in my left hand, I stepped nearer the fire, and dramatically raising my right arm, I pointed at the dead bird and gave a sharp cry, at the same instant tossing the shell into the flames. Instantly all faces were turned towards the Waupona bird. All eyes were riveted on the creature or on my outstretched arm. There was a tense moment of suspense and then, with a deafening report, the coals and firebrands flew into the air, there was a puff of dense white smoke and the roar of the exploding shell reverberated through the cavern with the noise of thunder.

  Not a monkey-man ever saw what happened to the Waupona bird. A mighty cry of abject terror arose from the crowd of savages and, as the smoke cleared away, I looked about to find every occupant of the cave, even the king himself, prone on the floor, while a weird, moaning, chant-like wail arose from the awe-struck beings. I glanced towards the Waupona bird and could scarcely believe my eyes. It had completely vanished! Whether the jar of the explosion had knocked it from the rock and it had dropped into some fissure, or what had become of it, I never knew. But luck or fate had played into my hands.

  The king was the first to recover, and cautiously raising his head he looked about. As he, too, saw that the bird had disappeared, he kow-towed again, wailing louder than any of his subjects. Then he again glanced fearfully about, and seeing me, standing unhurt and erect among his prostrate tribesmen, he fairly grovelled on the floor. My trick had more than fulfilled all my hopes, and it was fully ten minutes before the monkey-men and their ruler regained enough confidence to raise their heads. Then, since nothing more happened, the king rose tremblingly to his feet and seated himself a bit shakingly on his throne. One by one his subjects also rose. But the king's expression had completely altered. His savage glare had given place to a look of awe, and there was no hint of anger or enmity in his tones when he spoke again. For the time being, at least, I felt I was safe, and as I still had nearly a dozen cartridges in my pocket, I felt sure that as long as a fire was available, I could keep both king and subjects in mortal fear of my powers.

  The fellow who had brought the Waupona was now bowing before me and signing for me to follow him. As I stepped forward, he rose, and passing the fire—at which he shied a bit—he led the way across the cave towards one of the openings in the opposite wall.

  For some distance we passed along a narrow tunnel, until my guide turned to one side and I found myself in a fairly large cavern with a rude couch of palm leaves on one side and a smouldering fire in the centre, the whole dimly lit by a crevice high in the wall. Evidently this was my quarters or my prison, and with a final obeisance, the monkey-man withdrew.

  I threw myself upon the pile of leaves, utterly tired and spent. Whatever might be in store for me could be met as it occurred. For the present, rest and sleep meant far more to me than the future. I mentally thanked God that I had the cartridges, and my last conscious thought was that I only wished they were sticks of dynamite.

  Chapter III

  I had no means of knowing how long I slept, but as no glimmer of light showed on the walls I felt sure it was still night. I felt much refreshed, but terribly hungry and thirsty, and I wondered if my captors intended to let me die of thirst or starvation. Then as I glanced about, I saw by the light of the smouldering fire, a calabash of water on the floor. I drained this and again slept. I was aroused by someone moving about, and opened my eyes to see the giant fellow who had led me to my cave. He was fanning the fire into a blaze, and beside him was a plantain leaf on which were several strange fruits and a piece of meat. Evidently he was about to serve my breakfast, and all fears of being starved were cast aside.

  When the fellow heard me move, he turned, grinned amiably and bobbed his head reassuringly. Despite his ugliness he seemed a rather good-natured brute, and the fact that he had brought food rather won my liking for him. But I was handicapped and prevented from making any friendly overtures because I could not understand a word he said nor could I make him understand a word of any dialect I knew. However, we managed to get along on sign language, and he soon served the half-cooked meat, meanwhile grimacing and kow-towing, twisting his broad black face into ludicrous grins, and reminding me of an overgrown puppy trying to make friends with a stranger. While I ate, he squatted before me, gazing fixedly up at me with an expression of such wonder and curiosity in his little eyes that I could not help laughing. He looked for all the world like some country lad watching the animals fed at a menagerie. Apparently my laughter delighted him, and he was quite happy to think that such a remarkable being as myself should take any notice of him. The most important thing, it seemed to me, was to try to learn a smattering of his dialect. Pointing to a fruit I said, "Fruit." For a space he looked puzzled. Then he caught the idea, grinned delightedly and muttered "Poot." Then, reaching out his, paw, he touched the fruit with his finger and said "Imtah."

  There was nothing stupid about him, and once he had grasped the idea of learning my language and teaching me his, we got along famously. He leaped about, pointing to one object after another, pronouncing or rather trying to pronounce the English names as I uttered them, and very carefully enunciating the equivalents in his own lingo. Before I had finished my light meal, I had learned the names of fruit, rock, fire, water, meat, calabash, feet, hands and a number of other things. But I realized it would be far slower work acquiring a knowledge of verbs, adjectives and grammar. However, there was no time like the present and, rather doubtful as to whether his intellect would carry him far enough to understand what I desired, I rose and leaped up and down repeating the word 'jump.' Instantly the fellow imitated my actions and cried "Ik, Ik." He even went farther, and leaping clear across the floor, shouted "Ikarak" and after a short hop exclaimed

  "Taik." I was more than pleased at the being's intelligence, and I knew that I could find my time fully occupied in learning the monkey-men's jargon. My next attempt was to learn his name. It was some time before I could make my meaning clear on this point, but at last, striking his breast, he said proudly "Mumba!" repeating the word several times.

  "All right, Mumba," I laughed, and striking my own breast, repeated my name; "Henry". That was quite beyond the powers of his vocal cords, however, and a gutteral "Geny" was the best he could do. At last Mumba gathered up the remains of breakfast and went hopping away down the passage, and I gave myself up to thinking over my predicament and my future. I felt sure that I was a prisoner. I knew it was out of the question to attempt any escape. To be sure, no one was on guard as far as I could see, and when I peered into the passageway, not a living being was in sight. To reach the open air, however, I would be forced to pass through the main cavern with its hordes of occupants, and even if I did succeed in stealing out unnoticed, how was I to gain the valley, let alone escape from it? For you will remember that I had been brought to the ledge of rock by air line in the grasp of a monkey-man.
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  But I was curious to know just how much of a captive I was; also I had no desire to remain cooped up in my cavern, if I was free to go elsewhere. Quite boldly, therefore, I left the room and wandered down the passage towards the main cave. Without hindrance, I gained the throne-room, as I might call it. A few women and children and one or two men were there and at my appearance the adults threw themselves on the floor, while the youngsters scuttled like frightened rats into their black holes. I was received more like a god than a prisoner, and no one made any attempt to interfere with my movements. Unfortunately I had not the least idea from which of the holes I had entered the cavern. But one was as good as another and I remembered I had faced the fire with the king's throne at my right when I had arrived. I chose the largest opening on that side and walked cautiously along the dark tunnel. Either luck was with me or else several entrances led to the open air, for presently I saw light ahead, and a moment later came out upon the rock shelf above the scarlet valley. No one was in sight on the ledge, and I began to wonder if I was a prisoner after all.

  As far as I could see, I was free to walk away— provided I could reach the earth below, yet I was as securely imprisoned as though I were behind bolts and bars. The pleasure of being in the air and sunshine again was sufficient for the time being, and seating myself upon a rock, I scrutinized the valley, trying to locate the spot where I had entered it and had first met the monkey-men.