The two sentinels behind his chair had not ceased their duties of overseers, but in Goliah’s absence it was evident they did not dare to restrain his movements; and thus, comparatively free in a dwelling filled with brute enemies, he was allowed to proceed unmolested until he arrived at the veranda in the rear of the building, where an old ape was tugging vigorously at a bell attached to a post.
This veranda led into what might be called a court-yard, around each side of which were long, low buildings, probably used as sleeping-apartments for Captain Seaworth’s crew and clerks. The yard was covered with an awning, and in the center had been built a small pond, bordered with the tropical plants which grew in such profusion on the island. Here and there a banana-tree upreared its glossy leaves, and at irregular intervals smooth trunks of the bamboo thrust their delicate foliage through apertures made in the awning.
It was a place where wearied workers might seek rest from their toil, and undoubtedly Captain Seaworth had caused it to be so arranged for his own especial enjoyment.
An air of homeliness at variance with what Philip had already witnessed was presented in the person of an old monkey seated near the shore of the miniature pond holding her baby, while she watched, with all the care and considerably more than the tenderness of our imported French nurses, over several little monkeys who were not yet old enough to run about alone.
Such was the view from the veranda looking into the court-yard. Gazing in the opposite direction, however, a less interesting spectacle was presented. Philip was standing just outside of what had evidently served as Captain Seaworth’s dining-room. Here the tables had been spread by the monkey attendants, or left by the domestics originally employed in the house, and the scene of disorder may be imagined. Plates were scattered about in every direction—on the floor, the chairs and the window-sills. Broken glassware and crockery rendered walking dangerous unless one’s feet were well protected. Knives, forks, spoons, tumblers, bottles and fragments of food were strewn over the room in the greatest profusion.
Amid all this disorder, even as Philip stood gazing about with surprise and dismay written on his face, Goliah strutted into the room and seated himself in the very middle of the table, while his immediate following clustered around him, some on the floor, others on chairs, and the two old advisers occupied either end of the festive-board.
Philip’s hunger was too great to admit of his being fastidious. None of the monkey-guests appeared to pay any particular attention to him, and he entered in the hope of finding food which was yet in a condition to be at least palatable.
All evidence of the cook’s skill, however, had long since been devoured or destroyed. The apes were eating raw vegetables, corn and leaves. The leaders of the party were feasting on a peculiar bark which had been freshly stripped from the trees, and was evidently considered as a choice morsel. They were by no means averse to their human servant partaking of the delicacy, and were even painfully hospitable, acting on their usual rule of all engaging in the same occupation at the same time.
Several gathered around Philip, and with manners more forcible than polite thrust into his mouth pieces of the bark, vegetables which resembled yams, and even going so far, in their eagerness, as to push two or three pieces of crockery between his teeth. In order to make certain that he was getting his full share, one venerable monkey held his mouth open that the others might more quickly satisfy his hunger, and it required very violent exertions on his part to prevent being choked to death.