10 Gorilla Adventure

by Willard Price

  The skunks scampered into the lounge where several passengers had taken refuge. The steward succeeded in catching them both by the tail; whereupon they let loose their barrage of scent, quite different from the perfume that had graced their fur, and choking passengers fled to the deck.

  The python, Snow White, emerged when her door was opened, but quickly tired of the wild commotion. Very sensibly she retired into a cabin and, seeing a bed, slipped into it, snuggling up gratefully against the lady who already occupied it. She, with her eyes screwed shut, was too paralysed to realize that her blankets were being shared by another lady more distinguished than herself.

  The Good Samaritan, having completed his good deed, thought it was time to have a little fun himself.

  He made for the bridge, tumbled into the wheelhouse, and so startled the helmsman that he fled, shouting for the captain.

  The chimp took the wheel. He had often watched what went on in this high spot. He knew just what to do He first blew a lusty blast on the whistle. Then he seized a handle and signalled the engineer - full speed ahead, full speed reverse, and every point between, until the sweating men in the engine room were convinced that the helmsman of the African Star had gone stark, staring mad

  Only the great Gog kept his head. He went about with Hal and Roger seizing animals and restoring them to their cages.

  When Roger attempted to extract the mamba from the tuba, the snake struck out at his chest - but before it could get there a great arm barred its way and the fangs went deep into the flesh of the ape.

  Roger at once cut the wound and put his mouth to the arm to suck out the poison. Then Hal promptly injected the life-saving serum.

  Hal said, ‘When you consider that apes have a deadly fear of snakes, that was a brave thing your hairy friend did. And to think that a week ago he would very cheerfully have killed you himself. It just shows - something.’

  Chapter 27

  Diving adventure

  It was good to be home. Good to see their mother and father. Good to look across the broad acres of the Hunt wild-animal farm, alive with animals from all over the world, awaiting transfer to zoos, circuses, and scientific institutions.

  ‘And some of the finest are the ones you have just brought home,’ John Hunt said. ‘I asked you to get a big male gorilla. But I never expected one seven feet tall. I asked for a python, any python, and you get one in a million, a pure-white blue-eyed beauty. And a two-headed boomslang that is a scientific marvel. And that beautiful colobus, and the six-foot-tall mamba. And not just a leopard, but the rare black leopard. And all the things I didn’t ask for. I’m proud of you both—because you have the right idea: to do more than you are asked to do.’

  ‘Seems to me,’ Hal said, ‘you’ve been doing the same thing. That sign over your gate.’

  When they left home, the sign had read:

  JOHN HUNT WILDLIFE

  Now it read:

  JOHN HUNT AND SONS WILDLIFE

  ‘You didn’t need to do that,’ Hal said.

  ‘Only fair,’ said his father, and dismissed the subject.

  He set down the bush-baby and the elephant shrew, which he had been holding in his lap, and took up the two skunks. He admired their great bushy tails.

  ‘Like bird-of-paradise plumes,’ he said.

  Whether or not the skunks understood the compliment, they understood the man. He had ‘a way with animals’ - a magic that he had passed on to his sons. Skunks are charming pets, if they will just hold their fire. These felt safe with the animal man, therefore he was safe from them.

  ‘Well, boys, perhaps you’ll stay home now and take a good rest.’

  The boys’ faces fell a foot. Rest is about the last thing a boy wants.

  ‘I have another project,’ John Hunt said. ‘But someone else can handle it.’

  ‘What’s the project?’ Roger asked breathlessly.

  ‘Don’t tell them, John,’ said Mrs Hunt. ‘It’s too dangerous. I’d worry all the time.’

  ‘No harm in telling them,’ John said. ‘They’re members of the firm. They’ll have to know sooner or later.’

  Hal grew impatient. ‘Get on with it, Dad. What’ve you got up your sleeve?’

  ‘I have oceanography up my sleeve. I’m sure you know what that is.’

  ‘Exploring beneath the sea,’ Hal said.

  ‘Right. And you know how important it is. Practically all of the world’s land surface has been explored. But less than five per cent of the ocean bottom. We know more about the back side of the moon, two hundred and forty thousand miles away, than about the waters at our front door. Of course we should learn about the moon - but as our astronaut, Scott Carpenter, has said, ‘Deep sea research will pay off in richer rewards much sooner.’

  ‘He should know,’ Hal said. ‘He’s the only one who has been both up and down.’

  ‘Yes. After his space flight, he lived thirty days in a home beneath the sea. That’s where the treasures are - treasures we need, now that the land can’t produce enough meat, milk, fish, vegetables, all sorts of food, oil, gas, gold, silver, aluminium, manganese, and the thousand other things necessary to keep life going on this planet. They are all down there, at the bottom of the sea. This year, another home has been built for undersea explorers.’

  ‘Where is it?’ Hal asked.

  ‘In one of the most exciting seas in the world. Near Australia, just off the Great Barrier Reef.’

  Roger came alive. He had read thrilling stories of the dangerous water and swarming sea life along the Great Barrier Reef, longest coral reef in the world.

  ‘Could we get in on this deal?’ he asked eagerly.

  ‘You’re invited,’ John Hunt said. ‘They know about your underwater work in the Pacific. One of the scientists they need is a naturalist. He must be young, strong, and experienced. They think Hal would fill the bill.’

  Hal was elated. Roger was gloomy.

  ‘But how about me?’ Roger said.

  ‘They also need an errand boy.’

  ‘Errand boy! You’re kidding. An errand boy at the bottom of the sea?’

  ‘Exactly. You would have your own diving saucer. You would run errands - carrying up specimens to the surface ship, bringing down supplies. And helping your brother catch deep-sea creatures, large and small, that are needed for study in aquariums and laboratories.’

  ‘My own diving saucer,’ Roger chuckled.

  ‘Don’t think it will be just a big game,’ his father warned. ‘Plenty of hard work. And danger. The sharks along that reef are the world’s worst. Australia reports more killings by sharks than all other countries put together. If you get tossed up on the shores of New Guinea, look out for cannibals. Think about it seriously.’

  And the outcome of the more or less serious thought that the boys devoted to this proposal will be recounted in the next book, Diving Adventure.