The other attempted to escape. But its legs and arms were too weak to propel its great body and a moment or so later it, too, lay down with a deep grunt of contentment.
I shouted to the negroes—shouted at the top of my voice in modern English:
"Hustle, there!"
They understood.
Without a second's delay they came running out to us with all the paraphernalia of bondage—ropes, chains, handcuffs, and sacks.
I gave Stringer my gas projector, asked him to keep the two brutes quiet while I fetched the ether, and told the negroes to hold their breath until they had dropped their burden and retreated again.
For the next five minutes we were four of the busiest people on earth. We substituted ether for gas, got the gorillas into a nice pliable condition of utter unconsciousness, handcuffed their hands behind their backs, tied up their legs in sacks, wound their arms and bodies round and round with ropes and chains, and then withdrew to our cage, where we took a cool and refreshing draught of lime-juice and water.
The perspiration was running from us. The gorilla is an immense brute weighing from two hundred to two hundred and fifty pounds, and the trussing up of that amount of dead weight in the damp tropical heat had demanded tremendous exertions. Even the great six-foot negroes looked exhausted.
"Well!" I said to Stringer, "how's that for the first morning's bag?"
"Great! Won't the others be jealous!"