At the end of three long hours I discovered it was by no means so easy to arrive at this earnestly desired goal as I had pictured it. The surface of the island being more or less undulating, whenever I descended into a hollow, or had to cross some ravine which intercepted my path, I immediately lost sight of the radiant glow which served as a beacon. On several occasions I had to climb to the top of a tall tree before I could make certain that I was pursuing the right direction. Unfortunately the fire was not always maintained at the same degree of intensity, and there was one critical moment when, after climbing to the topmost branches of the tallest tree I could find, I could distinguish nothing but the merest spark. My most ardent prayers were that it might not become totally extinguished before the break of day, but my supplications were of no avail. The fire flickered for a moment or two, and then went out. I could now only guide myself by certain signs; I was already in the midst of a sea of creepers, with which the ground was carpeted, and I had to pass through fibres of bamboo more or less impenetrable for a depth of at least forty feet, and then, what long circuits I should have to take!
A discovery which I made at this moment went far to counterbalance the discouragement I had just experienced on finding the light which I had pursued with so much tenacity extinguished. This discovery affected me considerably.
Soon after quitting the marshy plain of bamboos, from which I only emerged after leaving some portions of my dress and skin as traces of my path, I found myself once more on solid ground. While passing between the numerous shrubs which covered it, and gave it the appearance of a vast natural orchard, I came across some tempting-looking fruit. By chance, I tasted it, and discovered from its flavour that it was evidently the produce of a regular system of culture. There was none of that primitive harshness which all fruits as a general rule possess till man has improved their flavour. This discovery was a further convincing proof to me that the island was inhabited. It reassured me and encouraged me in my hopes, since it was not only certain that the island was inhabited, but that it was inhabited by men skilled in agricultural pursuits, and consequently occupying no mean place in the scale of civilisation.
At length the dawn appeared; the sky was scarcely lighted up by the first rays of the rising sun ere the uproar which I had heard during the three preceding days again rent the air. These frightful noises, indistinct at first, afterwards comprised all the various gradations that belong to the voices of wild animals, from the hypocritical and nervous mewing of the tiger and the guttural howling of the hyena to the most piercing shrieks and the shrillest whistlings. I started with affright at the explosion of these horrible sounds, which seemed to spring from the depths of a vast glade, which all at once opened out before me. It was like a battery, suddenly unmasked, discharging all its guns at once. Without knowing what it was that I sought to avoid, I darted on one side and hid myself behind the trunk of a tree, bowed down to the ground and covered with a thick mantle of moss and leaves.
The day, which in these inflammable zones does not steal on by degrees, but bursts forth all at once into noon, filled the glade with its dazzling light; and through the numerous openings in the trees I beheld a sight which would seem to the reader altogether improbable, did I not propose, further on, to bring forward the testimony of one of the most celebrated German naturalists in support of my statement.
In a vast arena, a group of individuals, clad in red coats and with cocked hats—surmounted by plumes of feathers, such as English officers wear—on their heads, were seated on some rising ground, evidently in grave deliberation, as though holding a kind of court-martial. In the midst of this conclave I caught sight of a commanding-looking figure, also clothed in scarlet, whose head and face were almost hidden beneath the ample shade of a gigantic cocked hat.
The reader is certainly about to share my surprise. These individuals were apes. Yes, apes. Again, and always, apes. But why were they dressed out in garments in which one is unaccustomed to see them in their natural state? Where had they procured these martial-looking coats and these formidable cocked hats? These were riddles impossible to solve; it must be left to the course of events to bring about an explanation.
The apes composing this group were siamangs, a redoubtable species, who are, as Buffon says, among the largest of quadrumanous animals, approaching the baboon in size.
These siamangs were presided over by the big ape who wore the admiral’s hat. And he was a baboon. One could not be mistaken on this point, and I above all, for was not Karabouffi the Second—Karabouffi the incendiary—a baboon? How came it that at this moment I seemed to see in the person of the president of the court-martial the very image of this treacherous monster?
“The ourang-outang,” says Buffon in his admirable work, “the ape who most resembles man, is the most intelligent, the gravest, and most docile of all apes. The magot, which, with its muzzle and dog-like fangs, diverges from the human form and approaches that of animals, is rough, disobedient, and slovenly; while baboons, which only resemble man by their hands, and have tails, sharp claws, and large nostrils, have the air of ferocious beasts, and what is more, do not belie their looks.”