It was only when he realized the mischievous propensities of the apes that he decided against this pleasant dream. It was hardly probable he could restrain them from destroying even fruit which was not palatable; and he finally confessed to himself, with a sigh, that however absolute his power, any attempt to change the nature of his subjects would be useless.

During the one day of rest in which he allowed his followers to indulge he had been forced to make such a display of his supposed apish powers as thoroughly exhausted him, and, as the only means of utilizing the superfluous energies of the army, he set about exploring more carefully the island.

As may be supposed, his first step was to examine the little harbor where the pirates had left their sinister warning and in which the Reynard had been anchored. This was done in the hope of discovering something that would show under what circumstances the colonists had embarked.

So far as gaining information was concerned he succeeded; but it was anything rather than satisfactory.

Two buoys floating on the water showed that the anchor had not been weighed. The cables were slipped when the Reynard sailed, and this fact convinced Philip that the pirates had left the bay with all possible speed, believing the apes were reinforcements of men.

This confirmation of his previous theories was a sad blow to the lonely youth, who had secretly hoped he might have arrived at a false conclusion when first studying the matter; but it was not long he mourned because of his friends’ untimely fate, for before that day came to an end he had grave cause for fear concerning his own immediate safety.

It was on his return from the journey to the sea-shore that Philip had an opportunity of seeing how wonderfully Nature provides for the wants of man.

He, accompanied by Goliah and followed by the entire army, marched through the dense thickets, where not one breath from the sea could penetrate to dispel the stifling heat, until the desire for water was almost overpowering. In the hope that the huge baboon might know of a spring near by, Philip gave evidence of intolerable thirst by pointing to his mouth and making gestures as if drinking.

Goliah was equal to the emergency. Walking on a few paces he stopped before a half-vine, half-shrub, which partially clung to the trunk of a tree and bore huge, bulb-like flowers, shaped something after the fashion of a pitcher. At the top was a petal which covered an aperture capable of holding at least half a pint; and tearing this off, the baboon presented to his king a flagon of water which, although slightly warm, was as palatable as if it had just been taken from a spring.

This was Philip’s first introduction to the “pitcher-plant,” and many times afterward did he quench his thirst from these natural reservoirs.