himself at the spot where he first beheld him.
But the savage had disappeared. While looking
about for him and searching for his trail,
something large, supple, and hairy, dropped
from the tree at his feet. It was an ape;
who, putting himself before him, seemed to
forbid his further advance. Not liking this,
Marasquin broke off a bough with which he
advanced threateningly. The brute
chattered and grinned, then uttered a peculiar
cry. In the twinkling of an eye, from
all points of the compass, trooped a crowd
of monkeys, darkening the horizon like a
cloud, and forming a phalanx round Marasquin
impenetrable and invincible. Dead
with heat and thirst he tried to retreat,
but the monkeys pressed thicker and closer
upon him, so that he could not stir. On every
bough, on every inch of ground,—hanging,
trailing, walking, leaping,—in every attitude
of motion; of every size, shade, and species,
they surrounded him, ready to tear him to
pieces on the smallest pretext. At last, one
—a baboon—advancing from the company,
came closer yet to Marasquin. Picking up
the stick which he had let fall, he gravely,
before them all, gave the unhappy ex-keeper
such a flogging that he would soon have
departed this life had it been prolonged. But
a thought struck him. His bright red cravat
—bought at a costly price a short time ago—
that would do. He tore it off his neck and
flung it in the midst of his persecutors. The
stratagem succeeded. What monkey ever
resisted finery and red? While the entire
mass were occupied in fighting for the cravat,
he ran off, often looking back and finding to his
joy that no monkeys followed him. At
last he reached a beautiful little lake, to
which he rushed, half frantic with thirst
and delight; he knelt down on the brink,
and drank such draughts as the gods never
received from Hebe. On raising his head
he found the whole lake lined wih apes,
all drinking and all kneeling like himself.
They had followed him silently upon the trees,
swinging from branch to branch like squirrels,
and noiseless as birds. Alarming as his
adventure was becoming, he could not help
laughing aloud at the grotesqueness of their
imitation. Immediately all the monkeys
laughed aloud, too; and Marasquin was
almost deafened. Some fruit grew tempting,
but too high for him to reach. He flung a
stone to bring some down; and every monkey
flung a stone. In a moment the ground was
strewn with luscious fruit and broken boughs;
all the monkeys eating exactly as Marasquin
ate,—tearing off the rind, rejecting the seeds;
choosing, selecting, like so many distorted
images of himself.

Night drew on. Hoping to profit by this
spirit of imitation, Marasquin made himself
a bed of leaves; and all the monkeys made
themselves beds of leaves. He then laid
down, stretched his arms and yawned; and,
turning round, pretended to sleep. But the
monkeys were not to be caught. They
stretched their arms and yawned; yet, not an
ape among them closed his eyes; on the
contrary, they gathered closer and watched him
with redoubled vigilance. In about a quarter
of an hour two great orang-outangs—each of
which could have conquered ten unarmed
men—came on each side of him. They
examined him all over, smelt him, looked
in his hair after the manner of
monkeys, poked his eyes, pulled off his shoes,
which they tried to fit on to their hands;
then pulled off his stockings, whereby they
got to his feet. They were charmed! They
played with his toes, doubled them,
undoubled them, grinning and chattering with
delight to find the monster as well made as
themselves; they got hold of his arms
and used them in Dutch-doll fashion.
Finally they proceeded to strip him. Marasquin
knew that this would be the signal
for death. He glided his hands into his
waistcoat-pockets and seized his pistols.
Another moment and his tormentors would
have been shot; but he would have stood
revealed and torn to pieces, when suddenly a
long sharp whistle was heard, and cric! cric!
—not an ape was to be seen!

A night of awful fear passed. Day, at
last, broke. Marasquin followed the lake and
came to its outlet, where he found the shore
strewn with half-opened oysters. The
monkeys had opened them by watching when the
oyster gaped, then flinging a small pebble
between the shells. Polydore profited by the
invention, ate five or six dozen, sank down on
the strand, and slept for twenty-four hours.
He dreamed. He dreamed of being still
surrounded and persecuted by these detestable
apes. He seized his pistols and fired. The noise
awoke him, and he found himself, in truth,
again surrounded, his discharged pistol in his
hand, and a dead monkey at his feet.
Another was wounded. The monkeys—all of whom
were of a gentle, playful, and innocuous kind
—after great lamentations, retired, carrying
their wounded comrade mournfully in the
midst. Whereupon Marasquin had a fit of
conscience, and reproached himself with murder.
But he had got rid of his companions.
Left alone he wandered again into the
island, hoping at last to find some traces of
humanity. He went on, meeting nothing,
until he came upon a colossal skeleton swinging
in the wind; the skeleton of a malefactor
who had been hanged, and left there as a
warning. Surely here was man and man's
work! No; it was still a monkey world.
The skeleton was 'that of a huge mandrill;
one of the largest species of ape.

At last, however, still wandering forward,
Polydore saw smoke and fire. Here, of
course, was man. Overjoyed and grateful he
walked towards it, when, arrested by a most
singular noise, he concealed himself behind a
tree, and beheld an assemblage of apes,
dressed in the shreds and rags of the English