"No time for it!"
"H'm! Still, we might try a little of it now, to quieten them. . . ."
"Anything to stop this infernal row," agreed Stringer.
So, once more—but this time in the heart of the African jungle—Stringer brought his great mental powers to bear on the gorilla.
He stood as near as he dared to the largest and noisiest of our captives, focussed his compelling gaze on its wicked little eyes, and made domineering noises in the back of his throat.
The great brute quavered, fought a brief struggle for mental mastery, and then began shifting its gaze hither and thither in a vain endeavor to escape that burning, penetrating, hypnotic glare.
"Keep it up!" I said. "He's giving way!"
"Tchah!" cried Stringer.
The poor animal gave a shiver, let up a little whimper of shame and submission, and suddenly grew resigned to its fate. At the psychological moment Stringer stretched forth a hand, rested it on the monster's head and pressed downwards. The victory of mind over matter was complete.
Five minutes later, the other two had been similarly pacified. But when the stretcher bearers arrived from the aerodrome the three brutes began to recover their evil tempers again, and we had great difficulty in placing them on their portable beds. The negroes were scared and refused to help us. Finally, however, Gran'pa, and Stringer and I each took charge of a stretcher and persuaded three of the blacks to catch hold of the opposite ends.