The amateur musicians were most industrious, and since their idea of perfect harmony was the greatest possible amount of noise, the result can be imagined. Their facilities for playing were much greater than man’s. For instance, a huge ape who had taken one of the banjos was seated on the floor holding it with his left foot, while the right and both hands were used to strike resounding blows on the strings. The performer on the guitar had pressed into service a small monkey as assistant, and while the latter held the instrument above his head, the musician used hands and tail with which to draw forth wild and discordant strains.
Goliah had left the apartment immediately the dance began, and Philip’s idea was that he had simply gone to station sentinels around the building to prevent his escape; therefore he remained in one corner of the room, hidden as far as possible from the merry-makers, not daring to show the least desire to quit the scene of the festivities.
The remainder of the party did not appear to be at all disturbed by the absence of their leader. They waltzed, polkaed, bowed and promenaded, chatting gaily meanwhile; but after half an hour of this sport the greater number followed the big baboon’s example, until not more than twenty couples were left to go through the motions of keeping time to the discordant braying of the instruments.
If Philip deluded himself with the idea that they were growing tired, and that he would speedily find an opportunity of making his escape, he was mistaken.
In less than a quarter of an hour the outer doors were thrown open with a crash, and the animal-trainer looked up in astonishment to see entering the room what at first glance appeared to be a party of richly-dressed ladies and gentlemen.
There were half a hundred apes wearing muslin, silk and calico dresses; some with shawls, others with bonnets, and not a few carrying gloves in their hands, all attended by male escort clad in a variety of costumes.
It was Goliah who led this brilliant party, and leaning on his arm, but looking terrified, was Sweet Alice, who had evidently been forced by the baboon to take part in the merry-making while her mate remained a prisoner in the cage.
After what Philip had already witnessed there was no trouble in divining where these costumes had come from. The memory of a similar scene, when the colonists had appeared dressed in their best, was probably so vivid in the minds of the apes that the houses of the settlement had been immediately ransacked for a supply of finery.
Had Philip been able to so far disassociate himself from the painful fact that he was a captive, and become once more a student of natural history, he would have received a most interesting lesson regarding the point where instinct ceases and mental effort begins.