One bright Sunday morning, as we rode the calm waters near the Canary Islands, I induced the sailor to release his prisoner on the main deck with my own, to see how they would act towards each other. He did so, and in a moment the big ape came ambling along the deck towards Aaron and Elisheba, who were sitting on the top of a hatch, absorbed in gnawing some turkey bones.
As the stranger came near he slackened his pace and gazed earnestly at the others. Aaron ceased eating and stared at the visitor with a look of surprise, but Elisheba barely noticed him. He scanned Aaron from head to foot, and Aaron did the same with him. He advanced until his nose almost touched that of Aaron, and in this position the two remained for some seconds. Then the big one proceeded to salute Elisheba in the same manner, but she gave him little attention. She continued to gnaw the bone in her hand, and he had no reason to feel flattered at the impression he appeared to have made on her. Aaron watched him with deep concern, but without uttering a sound.
Turning again to Aaron, the big ape reached out for his turkey bone; but the hospitality of the little host was not equal to the demand. He drew back with a shrug of his shoulder, holding the bone closer to himself, and then he resumed eating. Then a steward gave a bone to the visitor. He climbed upon the hatch and took a seat on the right of Elisheba, Aaron being seated at her left. As soon as the big one had taken his seat, Aaron resigned his place and crowded himself in between them. The three sat for a few moments in this order, till the big one got up and deliberately walked around to the other side of Elisheba and sat down again beside her. Again Aaron forced himself in between them.
This act was repeated six or eight times; then Elisheba left the hatch and took a seat on a spar that lay on deck. The big ape immediately moved over and sat down near her; but by the time he was seated Aaron again got in between them, and as he did so he struck his rival a smart blow on the back. They sat in this manner for a minute or so. Then Aaron drew back his hand and struck again. He continued his blows, all the while increasing them in force and frequency; but the other did not resent them. His manner was one of dignified contempt, as if he regarded the inferior strength of his assailant unworthy of his own prowess. It would be absurd to suppose that he was constrained by any principle of honor, but his demeanor was patronizing and forbearing, like that of a considerate man towards a small boy.
One amusing feature of the affair was the half-serious and half-jocular manner of Aaron. When striking, he did not turn his face to look at his rival, and the instant the blow was delivered he withdrew his hand as if to avoid being detected. He gave no sign of anger though he made no effort to conceal his jealousy; and the other seemed to be aware of the cause of his disquietude. The smirk of indifference on the little lover’s face belied the state of mind that impelled his action, and it was patent to all who witnessed the tilt that Aaron was jealous of his guest. From time to time Elisheba would change her seat. Then a similar scene would ensue.
The whole affair was so comical and yet so real that one could not repress the laughter it evoked. It was the drama of “love’s young dream” in real life, in which every man, at some period of his young career, has played each part the same as these two rivals played. Every detail of plot and line was the duplicate of a like incident in the experience of boyhood.
Elisheba did not seem to encourage the suit of this simian beau, but she did not rebuff him as a true and faithful spouse should do, and I never blamed Aaron for not liking it. She had no right to tolerate the attentions of a total stranger; but she was feminine, and, perhaps, endowed with all the vanity of her sex, and fond of adulation. However, my sympathies for the devoted little Aaron were too strong for me to permit him to be imposed upon by a rival twice as big and three times as strong as himself; so I took him and Elisheba away to the after deck, where they had a good time alone.
Elisheba was never very much devoted to me, but in the early part of her career she began to realize the fact that I was her master and her friend. She had no gratitude in her nature, but she had sense enough to see that all her food and comfort were due to me, and as a matter of policy she became submissive; but she was never tractable. She was doubtless a plebeian among her own race and was not capable of being brought up to a high standard of culture. She could not be controlled by kindness alone, for she was by nature sordid and perverse. I was never cruel or severe in dealing with her, but it was necessary to be strict and firm. Her poor health, however, often caused me to indulge her in whims that otherwise would have brought her under a more rigid discipline. The patient conduct of Aaron appeared to be tempered by the same consideration.
CHAPTER XVII
Illness of Elisheba—Aaron’s Care of Her—Her Death—Illness and Death of Aaron