By this time, my own suitor had regained consciousness and was also endeavoring to reach us.
Neither of them showed the least trace of anger or fear—a remarkable fact when one considers their position of helpless bondage. Had they seen each other, the situation would no doubt have developed into another display of tempestuous fury, but, as it was, they made no sound other than that of labored breathing. Possibly, they had experienced this feeling of returning consciousness and helplessness before, and were convinced that it would presently pass off. It was one of the symbols of victory.
I put my mouth to Stringer's ear and whispered:
"Let's get nearer and see if they still suffer from the delusion that we are of the same blood."
Apparently they did; and Stringer actually had the temerity to reach out a hairy arm and stroke his gorilla on the head. The poor brute shut its eyes in mild contentment.
Could anything have been more pitiably human than this great monster succumbing to such a kindly caress? Were not all those stories of the untamable ferocity of the male gorilla merely due to ignorance and superstition? Were these animals any more malignant and savage than we should be, had we to face the same daily perils of life in the jungle?
I recalled Gran'pa's display of murderous intent on that terrible night when I had tried to coax him from his dug-out into the warm shelter of a house, and I could see that external conditions accounted for a great deal, even in human conduct. How much more so must this have been the case with animals.
Here were these two poor, misguided brutes, shattered and dazed by recent battle, asking for comfort and kindness, and when it was administered to them (by the women of their own species!) they became as little children. It was a touching sight, and I was so pleased with Stringer's achievement that I could not refrain from leaning forward to stroke my own captive.
But the brute was suspicious (smelling beneath the aniseed, perhaps, a whiff of that hate-inducing scent of MAN), and it suddenly showed its ill-temper in a quick jerk of the head, a clash of white teeth and a guttural snarl. The fingers of my right hand were saved by less than an inch and the tenth of a second.
"You would, would you?" I said, completely forgetting my anthropoid part.