“No.”
“It was a monkey, a sapajou, an orangoutang, a baboon, a gorilla, a sagoin. Our dwelling has been invaded by monkeys, who climbed up the ladder during our absence.”
And, at this moment, as if to bear witness to the truth of the sailor’s words, two or three quadrumana showed themselves at the windows, from which they had pushed back the shutters, and saluted the real proprietors of the place with a thousand hideous grimaces.
“I knew that it was only a joke,” cried Pencroft; “but one of the jokers shall pay the penalty for the rest.”
So saying, the sailor, raising his piece, took a rapid aim at one of the monkeys and fired. All disappeared, except one who fell mortally wounded on the beach. This monkey, which was of a large size, evidently belonged to the first order of the quadrumana. Whether this was a chimpanzee, an orangoutang, or a gorilla, he took rank among the anthropoid apes, who are so called from their resemblance to the human race. However, Herbert declared it to be an orangoutang.
“What a magnificent beast!” cried Neb.
“Magnificent, if you like,” replied Pencroft; “but still I do not see how we are to get into our house.”
“Herbert is a good marksman,” said the reporter, “and his bow is here. He can try again.”
“Why, these apes are so cunning,” returned Pencroft; “they won’t show themselves again at the windows and so we can’t kill them; and when I think of the mischief they may do in the rooms and storehouse—”
“Have patience,” replied Harding; “these creatures cannot keep us long at bay.”