Angel went from one to the other. He petted them, as George had often petted him. He knew what a caress meant, but his kin did not. It was too much for George. "Come down, Angel; good boy; come down." And he said it pathetically, too.
Not a hand was held out to him, nor did he get any sort of welcome, and yet he had expected so much, from what he tried to tell George, while on the way to his old home. It was too much for him. He heard that familiar voice, and the call that was always a welcome one, and he slowly descended the tree, not with that springy motion which characterized his ascent, but hesitatingly and in measured swings.
He went up to George and leaned against him, and then they knew that Angel intended to go home with them again. But they could not help watching the effect of Angel"s actions on the animals in the trees.
Ordinarily, they will quickly spring away from any intruders, as they do not generally consider the trees high enough to give protection. Their remarkable agility enables them to travel faster by the tree line than man can follow on foot.
But now that Angel was again with the boys, all sense of fear seemed to leave the three creatures in the trees. They looked down at the proceedings, and as the boys pa.s.sed by they sat in their specially prepared seats, as though they knew the care which had been bestowed on their offspring.
This little incident affected all more than it is possible to tell. The animal was really a marvelous character. True, George had spent hours and days in his education. He knew many of the words, and could execute missions, and did many things to aid George in the work at home, and it would have been a trial and a sorrow to miss him.
The next day would see them home again, and they could hardly restrain themselves at the thought of it. What if some one should have visited them while absent? Why might not the savages have found their abode?
These were questions ever uppermost in the minds of all.
Before noon they reached the Cataract River to the west of the forest.
This seemed like an old friend. And what was more: before they had gone many miles, the Professor pointed to a clearing, and remarked: "Do you remember this place?"
The boys looked about, as they moved forward. "I do not recollect the place," was George"s answer, but Harry now recalled the fight of the bears, and the honey tree, and without saying a word he ran to the tree, which was still lying there, and said one word, "Honey."
George now remembered, and Angel began to gurgle.
CHAPTER XIII
THE STRANGE VISITOR
In the afternoon of the ninth day, emerging from the forests, the first sight that met their eyes was the flag floating from the top of Observation Hill. Never before had the flag looked so glorious, and they could not repress a shout and a cheer. The distance home was at least four miles, but tired as they were, no one felt like stopping for a rest.
Everything at the home seemed quiet and peaceful. The cattle were there, lazily scattered about, apparently not knowing or caring whether their masters were absent. The boys were moving along jauntily, happy as larks, singing s.n.a.t.c.hes of songs, and amusing the Professor with sallies of wit and humor.
Angel was just as happy and was enjoying the prospects of coming home.
Long before the home was neared he started off on a race, with George at his heels. Burdened as he was, it was impossible to keep up with the animal, so that the latter was at the house long before George came near. He was surprised to see Angel bounding toward him with his peculiar chattering that betokened excitement, and he stopped and hesitated what to do.
Depositing his load on the ground, he ran back, and signaled to the others. Angel came up and tried to tell them in his peculiar way of some danger ahead. Two hundred feet south of the house was a thick growth of underbrush, and to that the party made its way.
Arriving there, a consultation was had, on the course of procedure.
Nothing was, apparently, disturbed. No sign of human presence was manifest. The door which opened to the main room, facing the west, was closed, as well as the room of the workshop.
"If anyone is about the premises he must be beyond the house, as it is evident some signs would show in the house or shop. Prepare your guns and let us go forward."
The house was cautiously approached, and reached, and Harry quietly gained the door, and the secret bolt opened. The door was slowly opened and he peered in. It was unoccupied, and all rushed in. A small trap-door on the northern side was now opened, which gave a view toward the shop and cattle-yard.
What they saw there startled them beyond measure, for seated on a log, outside of the cattle-shed, was a man, with a straggling, unkempt beard, vacantly gazing into s.p.a.ce.
"How shall we attract his attention?" asked Harry, breathlessly.
"Let us rush out the front door. He is, apparently, alone."
At the signal, with their guns ready, they filed out, and moved toward him. He raised his eyes, and at first was a little startled, but again relaxed, and seemed to take no particular notice of their approach. The Professor walked toward him, and held out his hand. The stranger made no motion or protest, either of fear or recognition, and as the Professor"s hand touched him, his hand was involuntarily extended.
[Ill.u.s.tration: _"The professor walked toward him and held out his hand"_]
Not a word was uttered by him. The Professor turned to the boys. "He is demented, or has lost all knowledge of his condition or surroundings.
Poor fellow!"
The Professor addressed him. He looked startled at the sound of a human voice, and as the voices continued, began to look inquiringly at one and then at the other. He was a man fully fifty years of age, strong, well built, but somewhat emaciated. His eyes had no l.u.s.ter, the beard was long and s.h.a.ggy, and aside from the torn and almost unrecognizable trousers, the only article of clothing was an equally dilapidated shirt.
George grasped Harry, excitedly. "Where did he get that shirt? That is the one we used as our first signal flag, and which we lost five months ago." Such was indeed the case. The only thing in its torn and tattered condition, which enabled him to recognize it were the initials of George, which he had noticed.
Thus was one of the mysteries explained. Despite every attempt at conversation, not a word escaped his lips. The Professor took him by the arm, and led him to the house. He entered and looked around not particularly interested, but more in curiosity than otherwise.
"What do you suppose he has been living on, and where has he been staying?"
At the suggestion of the Professor, some food was brought, and placed before him. He gazed at it. A knife and fork were on the table. He reached for them slowly, and when he had grasped both began to eat ravenously. He finished without looking up, and when the last morsel was eaten stared about, and a faint smile appeared, which was the first facial change that had crossed his features since they met him.
He was conducted to a reclining chair, and such articles of clothing as they could find were brought out and laid before him. He gazed on them, and slowly picked up one after the other. His feet were bare, and appeared to have been scratched and torn, but they were hardened by contact with the earth. An old pair of shoes, the ones discarded by the Professor, when they turned out the first lot of shoes, was set before him.
He picked them up and mechanically put them on. "Now let us leave him alone for a while." They went out, closing the door, and Harry stole around to the small port which he had opened, and watched the stranger.
His demeanor did not change after they left; he simply glanced about the room. When his eyes fell on the table, he arose and cautiously approached, and suddenly seized the table knife, with just a slight change of countenance. This he attempted to secrete beneath his ragged shirt.
"Do you think he is dangerous?"
"His malady is a peculiar one, and arises from various causes. I do not think we need fear him."
"But see how he took that knife."
"That was simply an instinct; that of self-protection. Any other implement would have been as acceptable as a knife. Possibly, the sight of the knife, temporarily, may have brought back some glimmering remembrance of his sane moments."
"Do you think he is insane?"
"No; it does not appear to be of such a character. He seems to exhibit loss of memory. Imbecility, idiocy, and lunacy exhibit marked tendencies, and have been made the careful study of many eminent men, and it is even now one of the disorders least understood by the medical fraternity."
"What is a lunatic?"
"Blackstone, the great English authority on law, defines it as "one that hath had understanding, but by grief, disease, or other accident hath lost the use of his reason." This eminent authority also stated that lunatics may have frequent lucid intervals, and might enjoy the use of their senses during certain periods of the moon. It is from that source we are indebted to the still prevailing idea of the moon"s influence on the human mind. That view was exploded long ago, and shown to have no foundation."
"What is the difference between a lunatic and an insane person?"
"The original term was lunatic, in accordance with Blackstone"s definition; but in medical science the terms insanity and mental alienation have taken its place."
"Doesn"t he act peculiarly? He does not seem to know we are present.
What I cannot understand is, how he knows enough to get anything to eat."
"That is a peculiar thing in nature. Here is a man who has, outwardly, the appearance of an intelligent being, incapable of talking, or uttering intelligible sounds, with memory so submerged that he doesn"t, likely, recognize his own kind, and yet has been able to find food for at least five months, to our knowledge. It shows that, irrespective of mind, nature has implanted some kind of an instinct of preservation in living beings. The subject is one that has been discussed from many standpoints, and it can never be exhausted."