The rifle hanging upon the wall caught his first attention; it
was for this strange, death-dealing thunder-stick that he had
yearned for months; but now that it was within his grasp he
scarcely had the temerity to seize it.
Cautiously he approached the thing, ready to flee
precipitately should it speak in its deep roaring tones,
as he had heard it speak before, the last words to those
of his kind who, through ignorance or rashness, had attacked
the wonderful white ape that had borne it.
Deep in the beast's intelligence was something which assured
him that the thunder-stick was only dangerous when in the
hands of one who could manipulate it, but yet it was several
minutes ere he could bring himself to touch it.
Instead, he walked back and forth along the floor before it,
turning his head so that never once did his eyes leave the
object of his desire.
Using his long arms as a man uses crutches, and rolling his
huge carcass from side to side with each stride, the great king
ape paced to and fro, uttering deep growls, occasionally
punctuated with the ear-piercing scream, than which there is
no more terrifying noise in all the jungle.
Presently he halted before the rifle. Slowly he raised a
huge hand until it almost touched the shining barrel, only to
withdraw it once more and continue his hurried pacing.
It was as though the great brute by this show of fearlessness,
and through the medium of his wild voice, was endeavoring
to bolster up his courage to the point which would permit
him to take the rifle in his hand.
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