We all knew the gorilla language by now--a matter of some twenty or more sounds--were experts at knot-tying and rope-binding, and could give a very passable imitation of a live gorilla (when we were suitably clad in one of the animal's skins and a mask). Our skill in making a gas attack unawares was so perfect that we had even experimented on some of the natives without their having had the faintest idea of why they had suddenly fallen asleep. (I should like to give the exact formula for this specially prepared gas, which we called _Gorilene_, but unfortunately Gran'pa would never divulge the secret. It was practically odorless and non-poisonous, and its effect was swift and painless, rendering its victim unconscious for about 60 to 90 seconds.) We could also fly an aeroplane or shoot an animal at 100 yards; and in an emergency we could climb trees with grace and agility. We had even been taught how to do interesting and murderous things with knives and spears. . . . In addition, we could all of us (including Molly and Sally Rebecca) carry on more or less intelligent conversations with the natives in pigeon-English (with the occasional help of an excellent German-made dictionary!). At swimming we were experts and almost "lived" our spare time in the water; with the exception of Sally Rebecca, who could be persuaded only to paddle. Even this she first attempted with stockings on! But, as for Molly, I really believe that she would have developed fins and web-feet in another six months! She was brown skinned from head to foot, and constant exercise in the open air and sunshine had already increased her stature by at least an inch. We were the jolliest party imaginable, and I am certain that all of us hated the prospect of ever returning to England. I mention these things to show that, in spite of our deep sense of duty towards the aged, we still had our lighter moments of gaiety and abandon. At last the time came when we were able to make the actual declaration of war on the gorillas. Our boat, "The Pilgrim Father," after landing its cargo of ancients at Swakopmund, had returned and had been prepared for the reception of our anthropoid guests; the three cages had been placed in the jungle, some 150 miles from Corisco (their exact positions being indicated by small, bright-red, captive balloons); a hangar for the shelter of two aeroplanes had been constructed on a neighboring plateau; and a week's supply of emergency rations had been conveyed to each of these four points of attack (and defence). We were ready. Ninety minutes before dawn on May 15th (the commencement of the six months' dry season) was the appointed hour to strike.