There was a thunderstorm some miles away: we
could see the glimmer of the lightning. The ship's cow, distressed by the heat
and the smell of the ape-beast in the cage, lowed unhappily from time to time
in exactly the same key as the lookout man at the bows answered the hourly call
from the bridge. The trampling tune of the engines was very distinct, and the
jarring of the ash-lift, as it was tipped into the sea, hurt the procession of
hushed noise. Hans lay down by my side and lighted a good-night cigar. This was
naturally the beginning of conversation. He owned a voice as soothing as the
wash of the sea, and stores of experiences as vast as the sea itself; for his
business in life was to wander up and down the world, collecting orchids and
wild beasts and ethnological specimens for German and American dealers. I
watched the glowing end of his cigar wax and wane in the gloom, as the
sentences rose and fell, till I was nearly asleep. The orangoutang, troubled by
some dream of the forests of his freedom, began to yell like a soul in
purgatory, and to wrench madly at the bars of the cage.
"If he was out now dere would not be much of us left hereabouts," said Hans,
lazily. "He screams good. See, now, how I shall tame him when he stops
himself.
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