The Gorilla Hunters | Page 6

you find us out?" cried Peterkin, as we all hurried
on to my lodgings, totally forgetful of the little old woman, whom, as I
have said, we never saw again, but who, I sincerely trust, arrived at the
white house in safety.
"Find you out! I knew you the moment I set eyes on you. Ralph
puzzled me for a second, he has grown so much stouter; but I should
know your nose, Peterkin, at a mile off."
"Well, Jack, I did not know you," retorted Peterkin, "but I'm safe never
again to forget you. Such a great hairy Cossack as you have become!
Why, what do you mean by it?"

"I couldn't help it, please," pleaded Jack; "I grew in spite of myself; but
I think I've stopped now."
"It's time," remarked Peterkin.
Jack had indeed grown to a size that men seldom attain to without
losing in grace infinitely more than they gain in bulk, but he had
retained all the elegance of form and sturdy vigour of action that had
characterised him as a boy. He was fully six feet two inches in his
stockings, but so perfect were his proportions that his great height did
not become apparent until you came close up to him. Full half of his
handsome manly face was hid by a bushy black beard and moustache,
and his curly hair had been allowed to grow luxuriantly, so that his
whole aspect was more like to the descriptions we have of one of the
old Scandinavian Vikings than a gentleman of the present time. In
whatever company he chanced to be he towered high above every one
else, and I am satisfied that, had he walked down Whitechapel, the
Horse Guards would have appeared small beside him, for he possessed
not only great length of limb but immense breadth of chest and
shoulders.
During our walk to my lodgings Peterkin hurriedly stated his "plan and
proposal," which caused Jack to laugh very much at first, but in a few
minutes he became grave, and said slowly, "That will just suit--it will
do exactly."
"What will do exactly? Do be more explicit, man," said Peterkin, with
some impatience.
"I'll go with you, my boy."
"Will you?" cried Peterkin, seizing his hand and shaking it violently; "I
knew you would. I said it; didn't I, Ralph? And now we shall be sure of
a gorilla, if there's one in Africa, for I'll use you as a stalking-horse."
"Indeed!" exclaimed Jack.
"Yes; I'll put a bear-skin or some sort of fur on your shoulders, and tie a

lady's boa to you for a tail, and send you into the woods. The gorillas
will be sure to mistake you for a relative until you get quite close; then
you'll take one pace to the left with the left foot (as the volunteers say),
I'll take one to the front with the right--at fifty yards,
ready--present--bang, and down goes the huge puggy with a bullet right
between its two eyes! There. And Ralph's agreed to go too."
"O Peterkin, I've done nothing of the sort. You proposed it."
"Well, and isn't that the same thing? I wonder, Ralph that you can give
way to such mean-spirited prevarication. What? `It's not prevarication!'
Don't say that now; you know it is. Ah! you may laugh, my boy, but
you have promised to go with me and Jack to Africa, and go you shall."
And so, reader, it was ultimately settled, and in the course of two weeks
more we three were on our way to the land of the slave, the black
savage, and the gorilla.
CHAPTER TWO.
LIFE IN THE WILD WOODS.
One night, about five or six weeks after our resolution to go to Africa
on a hunting expedition was formed, I put to myself the question, "Can
it be possible that we are actually here, in the midst of it?"
"Certainly, my boy, in the very thick of it," answered Peterkin, in a tone
of voice which made Jack laugh, while I started and exclaimed--
"Why, Peterkin, how did you come to guess my thoughts?"
"Because, Ralph, you have got into a habit of thinking aloud, which
may do very well as long as you have no secrets to keep but it may
prove inconvenient some day, so I warn you in time."
Not feeling disposed at that time to enter into a bantering conversation
with my volatile companion, I made no reply, but abandoned myself
again to the pleasing fancies and feelings which were called up by the

singular scene in the midst of which I found myself.
It seemed as if it were but yesterday when we drove about the crowded
streets of London making the necessary purchases for our intended
journey, and now, as I gazed