“Ah, I thought so. A naturalist—a born naturalist, Pickle, and in spite of his being a Frenchman I shall begin to feel a brotherly respect for a follower of the only pursuit worthy of a gentleman. Well, we had a very short sleep last night, so we have got a long one due to our credit to-night, and on the strength of that Captain Chubb has arranged to have supper quite early. This has been a queer day, Pickle, a very queer day, and I am not at all displeased, for I am beginning to think that we have got a very good time before us.”
“What time, uncle?”
“Ashore, my boy. What do you say to having a couple of the sailors with guns to keep us company while the rest are new-bottoming that brig? Walks in the primeval forest, Rodd, wonderful botanical rambles, shooting birds of glorious plumage, most likely coming across the great man-ape, the chimpanzee. What do you say to that, my boy? Won’t that be a grand change from fishing and dredging and bottling specimens?”
“Uncle Paul, don’t!” cried the boy.
“Don’t? What do you mean, sir?”
“You were talking just now of our having a good long sleep to-night to make up for all we lost since we went to bed last.”
“Well, sir, what of that?”
“How’s a fellow to sleep, uncle, with such things as that to think of? Why, I shan’t get a wink for thinking of the big chimpanzees; and as for eating any supper now, why, my appetite has completely gone.”
“Stuff!” cried Uncle Paul, pressing the lad’s arm to his side. “Rodd, my boy, we must cork a bottle or two and throw them overboard to-morrow, and then have a little practice with bullets in our guns. We may come across dangerous beasts there, leopards and the like, while that there are great man-apes in those forests of the West Coast there is not a doubt.”
“Well, I think I could shoot at one of those great spotted cats, uncle, all tooth and claw; but wouldn’t it be rather queer to shoot one of those big monkeys which look so much like human beings? I mean those big ones with ears like ours, and no tails.”