By RUFUS HALL.
Day after day the poisonous malarial vapors from thickets
and jungles, combined with the heat of an equatorial clime,
told even upon some of the hardy sailors and marines who
had been sent from the sloop of war Trenton to protect a
party of engineers away up in the Gaboon country of Lower
Guinea, near the mountains, in Western Africa.
In a tent where the marines were encamped, they had
put little Jack Winton, the lieutenant's nephew, a boy of
fourteen, ill with a fever; and, one morning, as he lay
there, with burning cheeks and parched lips, a vision of
big red cherries, smooth and round, kept rising in fancy
before his wistful eyes. His delirious mutterings were of
these cherries, and his hands now and then crossed and
recrossed his pillow, as if he thought the fruit must be
there.
Then it was that Will Worth, a marine private of sixteen,
hearing him, made up his mind to hunt for what he
knew the invalid coveted—a cherrylike fruit, to be found
among the glens and ravines of the mountains—and to bring
some, as a pleasant surprise, to the sufferer. Without mentioning
his purpose to any one, he left the camp, being at
present off duty, and sped on his way.
Mr. Dale, a youthful ensign, noticing how hurriedly he
plunged into the upland thicket ahead, suspected that he
meant to desert. His lieutenant had already found fault
with him for one soldier's desertion, and he did not relish
the idea of another reprimand of this sort. He, therefore,
resolved to follow the lad, watch him, and, if he went far,
order him back to the camp.
Entering the thicket, he moved rapidly on. The foliage
and the brush became denser as he proceeded. He heard
the tapping and humming of bees in the hollows of trees.
In and out of the great bell-shaped flowers around him
they flew, spitefully buzzing at the big green gnats in their
way. Hundreds of large white lilies, enormous tulips, and
wild roses brightened the shrubbery. High above hovered
the scarlet cardinal-bird, sounding its shrill "fife." Below,
the hook-nosed falcon boldly confronted the youth, as if
inclined to dispute his progress.
At last he caught sight of Worth down in the jungle,
on the opposite side of a deep ravine, which he had evidently
reached by a roundabout direction through brambles
and vines leading past the front of the chasm. Down where
he was could be seen gleaming in profusion the small red
globes of the cherrylike fruit he had come to gather for his
sick little comrade.
The ravine was evidently hundreds of feet in depth, the
bottom hidden by the black shadows from the jungle on
both sides.
A few yards below Worth the chasm, which was about
eighteen feet wide, was crossed by a tree-trunk—a mere
sapling, eight inches thick—probably all that remained of
a former bridge.
The trunk was smooth, except within five feet of the end
nearest the boy, where there was a clipped branch. This
end was in a sort of long hollow, overhung by tough roots.
The ensign cautiously descended on his side of the ravine
and watched Worth until he had filled a haversack
at his side with the "cherries" and was about to ascend,
when he called out sharply:
"That fruit will make you a poor meal, my boy, if you
mean to desert!"
The startled lad looked across the gorge, saw the ensign,
and answered, much hurt by the officer's suspicion:
"I had no intention of deserting, sir. I came here after
the fruit for Jack Winton."
"Now, upon my word," said the ensign, who was a good
fellow at heart, "I believe you, Worth, and am sorry I made
the mistake of suspecting you. Those 'cherries' are just the
things for little Jack."
Worth was going to respond, when behind and above him
he fancied he heard a low, guttural voice. Turning and
looking up, he saw two humanlike but fierce eyes shining
amid a thick, dark screen of interlacing vines.
"Who's there—a 'Pongwe?" he inquired, thinking one
of the natives of the Mpongwe tribe had been watching him
pick the fruit.
There was no reply to his question. But the leafy bower
rustled, and now from out the dark screen there rose an
awful roar, that was echoed to the chasm's very depths.
From among the concealing vines stepped forth a hideous
monster, which the boy at first thought was a chimpanzee,
but which, from its black color and ferocious aspect, he
concluded must be a gorilla.
Nearly erect it stood, beating its breast with its hands.
Being a greedy lover of fruit, it glared in a fierce, remonstrative
way at the lad's full haversack, as if enraged
at his having come to pluck the "cherries" it wanted entirely
for its own use.
The animal, about five feet high, was covered with black
hair, had very broad shoulders and enormous hands, while
its stomach bulged as if nearly filled to bursting with the
"cherries" it had been eating, the red stain of which was all
about its mouth.
The diabolical face, with its great flat nose and projecting
open jaws, the latter disclosing two enormous hooked lower
teeth and a row of smaller ones above as sharp as a saw,
was thrust slightly downward, showing the encircling edges
of the hair on its head so distinctly defined as to give it the
grotesque appearance of wearing a sort of big furry cap.
It was plain that the brute meant to attack the boy. In
fact, it suddenly raised one of its big paws and, with a rush,
came crashing toward him through the shrubbery.
Unfortunately he had left his musket, thinking it would
be in his way, near the edge of the ravine above. But his
bayonet was by his side in its sheath. He drew the steel,
and, flourishing it before him, retreated toward the tree-trunk
that extended across the chasm.
He had once heard a hunter say that the gorilla, unlike
the common monkey, is not a very skilful climber. Neither
would it, he thought, attempt, for the same reason, to follow
him should he creep out on the horizontal sapling.
But just as he got close to the tree the ferocious brute,
uttering a terrible roar, aimed a blow at him with its uplifted
paw.
He held up his bayonet.
It was dashed from his grasp, but not before the point
had inflicted a wound in the monster's arm. So great was
the strength of this hairy arm that that single blow must
have lacerated the boy's side had not the big paw fallen
upon his cartridge-box.
The force of the stroke whirled him over upon his back,
knocking him into the hollow in which rested the end of the
tree-trunk. He quickly pushed himself under the tough
roots overhanging the hollow.
The gorilla, bending over, looked at its wounded arm,
lapped it, and pressed it against its breast, all the time
growling as if with blended pain and wrath. Then, using
both its left paw and its teeth, it commenced to tear away
the protecting roots above the lad, with the probable intention
of dealing him a finishing blow.
Its strength was so enormous that the earth broke and
flew in all directions as the animal shook, pulled, and bit
at the roots. Worth, knowing that these would soon give
way, expected to be finally torn to death by the infuriated
beast.
Meanwhile, the young ensign on the other side of the
ravine had been watching for a chance to shoot at the
gorilla with the long double-barreled pistol he had with
him, which he had drawn from his belt.
But the boy and his assailant were, from the first, so
close to each other that he did not dare to fire, lest the
bullet should strike his comrade.
He now ran his gaze along the sapling that bridged the
chasm. The slender tree was covered with a green, slippery
slime. He doubted if he would be able to creep over
it, but he saw no other way of attempting to get within
close enough range of the fierce beast to shoot it without
risk of hitting Worth. Therefore, replacing his pistol in his
belt, he started, crawling along on his hands and knees.
It was a daring venture. The horizontal tree was probably
more than two hundred feet above the bottom of the
chasm. If he lost his balance, certain death awaited him;
he would be precipitated into the black depths so far below.
On he went. As he proceeded, the narrow trunk shook
with his weight. When he had reached its center, it bent,
oscillated, and one of his knees slid off the slippery surface.
He felt himself going over. His distended eyes were
turned downward toward the dark, yawning gulf beneath,
into which he expected to fall headlong.
But the thought now occurred to him of throwing himself
flat upon his breast along the sapling and of hugging
it with his arms.
He did so, and the action saved him. Cautiously he then
regained his former position and crept on. At length he
reached the clipped branch, within five feet of the end of
the tree. The gorilla had nearly torn away all the roots
that protected Worth. It seemed about to raise its left paw
to deal him a fatal blow. The young officer knew he had
no time to lose.
He clutched the stumped branch with his left hand, drew
his pistol, and, aiming as well as his position would admit
of, he fired. The bullet inflicted a flesh-wound in the monster's
side. With a roar that shook the air to the chasm's
very depths, the brute turned, saw its assailant, and threw
itself toward him, resting its big stomach on the sapling.
Up went its mighty left paw, and down it came slantingly
toward the officer's head.
Worth uttered a cry of dismay. He expected to see the
ensign killed and dashed from the tree's trunk into the
black pit of the ravine, hundreds of feet below.
It was a critical moment.
Had Dale drawn his head back, the great paw would
still have reached him, have struck his neck, and sent him
to his doom.
But instead of attempting in his present cramped position
any backward movement, he threw his head and shoulders
forward.
Thus the big paw clove, with a whirring sound, the empty
air above him, and, placing the muzzle of his pistol between
the monster's eyes, he fired.
The brute, as the bullet passed through its brain, slid
away from the tree, then clawed wildly at the air with both
hands, uttered one loud, humanlike scream, and went whirling
down into the black abyss of the ravine.
The ensign crept to land and helped Worth from the
hollow. The boy had been badly, though not seriously, injured
by the force of the gorilla's blow upon his cartridge-box,
which had thus been jammed, as if with the stroke of
a sledge-hammer, against his body. As with his rescuer's
assistance he limped back toward the camp, now and then
carefully adjusting his broken haversack so that the "cherries"
in it might not drop out, he warmly thanked his companion
for saving his life.
"Don't mention it," was the answer. "I am glad enough
to have been able to do something for you toward making
up for my mistake of suspecting that you meant to desert."
It was a joyful surprise to little Jack Winton when Worth
brought the "cherries" to him. They were of great benefit
to the fever-stricken lad, whose health began to improve the
moment he had partaken of them.
The ensign had made light of his rescue of Worth, and
had advised him not to mention so "trifling a matter," as
he termed it, to his comrades.
The boy, fearing that the knowledge of it would tend to
unduly excite the invalid, said nothing about it until Jack
was fully recovered from his illness, when he gave him an
account of the whole affair. The little fellow made it
known to his uncle, the lieutenant; and Dale's promotion,
not long after, was, perhaps, partly due to this circumstance.
Worth, who had never dreamed of being favored for the
slight service he had rendered his sick comrade, now attracted
the notice of his commander. The latter, perceiving
his unvarying good conduct, soon made him a corporal,
from which position he eventually won his way to a higher
rank.
