“We shall easily manage as to that,” replied Jack. “I have observed that one of our niggers is a sensible, and, I am disposed to think, a trustworthy fellow—”
“D’you mean the man with the blind eye and the thumping big nose?” inquired Peterkin.
“The same. Well, I shall put him in charge, and tell him to follow us to Mbango’s village; then we four shall start off light, and hunt our way south, travelling as fast as we can, and carrying as many strings of beads, by way of small change, as we can stuff into our pockets and fasten about our persons.”
“The very thing,” cried Peterkin. “So let’s put it in practice at once.”
“Ay, this very night,” said Jack, as we hurried back to the spot where our goods had been left.
As we went along in silence I noticed that Peterkin sighed once or twice very heavily, and I asked him if he was quite well.
“Well? Ay, well enough in body, Ralph, but ill at ease in mind. How can it be otherwise when we are thus suddenly and unexpectedly about to take leave of our dear friends the gorillas? I declare my heart is fit to break.”
“I sympathise with you, Peterkin,” said I, “for I have not yet made nearly as many notes in regard to these monster-monkeys as I could have wished. However, I am thankful for what I have got, and perhaps we may come back here again one of these days.”
“What bloodthirsty fellows!” cried Jack, laughing. “If you talk so, I fear that Mak and I shall have to cut your acquaintance; for, you see, he and I have got a little feeling left.”
“Well, it’s natural, I fancy,” observed Peterkin, “that gorillas should feel for their kindred. However, I console myself with the thought that the country farther south is much better filled with other game, although the great puggy is not there. And then we shall come among lions again, which we can never find, I believe, in the gorilla country. I wonder if the gorilla has really driven them out of this part of Africa.”