“Here,” I shouted, “bring me those things, you critters!”
They started in alarm at my voice, but none made a move to restore my
property. I then discovered one of my shoes suspended on the breast of
the tall albino “woman,” hung about her neck by the laces. The other had
fallen to the lot of perfidious Fatty, who, having put it on his foot,
heel foremost, was hopping about on one leg only, while he held the
other, more precious, booted leg as high as possible, and pounded on his
great glistening stomach as if executing an eccentric dance to his own
music.
I strode over the ground gingerly, clad in a shirt, and the belt with
the knife about my waist, going first to the dancer, whom I bowled on
his back and divested of the shoe, literally before he could say Jack
Robinson. After that I jerked the other shoe from the neck of the female
so quickly that she ran away in alarm to the cave. This latter action
incited a show of incipient resentment on the part of the old female who
muttered to herself. But inasmuch as she beheld some of the other guilty
creatures divest themselves of sundry pieces of my wardrobe and flee,
leaving them on the ground, she conceived an idea of the respect my
knife had engendered in the tribe. She therefore stood sullenly watching
me as I made shift to put on my shoes, a pair of leggings and a loin
cloth, which I hastily constructed of the pieces left of my pantaloons.
The “lady” with my coat had quickly climbed a tree to avoid being
obliged to deliver the garment. Fatty, bearing no resentment and being
obviously devoted to my interests, gave chase. Although the female
proved the more agile of the two, she fell into the clutches of another
of her sex and between them they tore the coat all in shreds many of
which Fatty finally brought to my feet with excessive demonstrations of
pride.
By the time my toilet was complete, nearly all the females were up in
the trees, looking down upon me with nervous, questioning eyes. I
reflected how fortunate it was that they were at least partially human,
for their strength was enormous and had they been unreasoning animals,
and therefore ferocious, they might easily have rended me to pieces for
less exasperation than I had already given.
I felt ill at ease as it was; I began to be restless, worried, eager to
be gone. Where had the wind-driven balloon landed me, I wondered? What
course had I best pursue? What would these Links do, or attempt to do if
I sought to leave? I could not remain here, under any circumstances, I
said to myself. Think how absurd it would be to live with a lot of
Missing Links!
From where I stood I could see the peak of the volcanic mountain, less
than half an hour’s journey away. Instantly I made up my mind to visit
this eminence and get my bearings. I might be able to see the ocean
itself; if I could, then the sooner I made a bee-line for the coast the
better for me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account