Harry found a good use for him later on, and from that time forward Baby knew that a jaunt into the forest meant a trip for him as well. When it came to tree climbing Baby was in his glory. He would swing from branch to branch, and shake the nuts, and the amusing thing was to see him help gather and throw the nuts into the wagon, in the most business-like fashion. He was never known to laugh, but they had many occurrences which, no doubt, made him smile in his own way.
George was an adept cook. He was fond of making surprising delicacies, and boy-like, they were always the kind that had honey of some sort in their composition. Without any knowledge of cooking, but knowing, in a general way, that eggs and milk were the principal things used in puddings, it was not long before he was regarded as the chef. Baby was sure to be present whenever George occupied the kitchen. And help! Why certainly! He knew what flour meant, and particularly honey. The truth is, that he knew what that meant if George merely looked in the direction of the honey pot.
And talking about eggs! Harry found out about this accomplishment in Baby. In the tall grass beyond the barley fields were flocks of prairie chickens, and during one of the hunting expeditions he found several nests of eggs. They are just as much more delicious than the common egg as the prairie chicken is more delicate than the hen. Baby never thereafter forgot the eggs. Singularly, he never ate any of them. Apparently the orang does not crave them in his native state, but the little rascal had an eye to the good things, and when he saw the eggs go into the pudding and cake, there were no scruples on his part.
George had been planning a surprise for the Professor. In many devious ways he learned his age, and August was the month, so in concert with Harry, planned to treat the Professor with a birthday party, the first real attempt at jollification which had been proposed since they landed.
"I remember, he said he would be sixty-five years old on the tenth of August."
"But the trouble is, we don't know when we get to the 10th of the month."
"The chances are he doesn't know, either. But what difference does a day or two make, anyway?"
Among the delicacies which George had prepared were 65 little sweet cakes, because they couldn't put that many candles on the big cake, and the boys knew, from experience, that they would have to use candles, or something else to typify the age.
The "tenth of August" came, and the Professor, in all innocence, proposed a day for hunting. Both boys opposed this, to his surprise. The Professor did not press the matter. As usual, when at home, he was shut up in what they called the laboratory. Even though he should be present in the kitchen he would not be likely to take notice of any extra preparations.
In the meantime Harry had made a bell out of a flat sheet of steel. It was really a gong. When the noon hour arrived and the table had been set ready for the symbolic cake pyramid of little cakes, George ordered the gong to sound, and Harry made such a frightful din with the unexpected noise, that Baby was terribly frightened, and scampered to the loft, his usual place of retreat when reproved or unduly excited.