Then, having buried
poor Jerry in the hollow trunk of the great fallen tree, we washed
ourselves with the wet mosses and ate some of the food that remained
to us.
After this we started forward again in much better spirits. Jerry, it
was true, was dead, but so was the god, leaving us happily still alive
and practically untouched. Never more would the Kalubis of Pongo-land
shiver out their lives at the feet of this dreadful divinity who soon
or late must become their executioner, for I believe, with the
exception of two who committed suicide through fear, that no Kalubi
was ever known to have died except by the hand--or teeth--of the god.
What would I not give to know that brute's history? Could it possibly,
as the Motombo said, have accompanied the Pongo people from their home
in Western or Central Africa, or perhaps have been brought here by
them in a state of captivity? I am unable to answer the question, but
it should be noted that none of the Mazitu or other natives had ever
heard of the existence of more true gorillas in this part of Africa.
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