THE MONKEYFOLK OF SOUTH AFRICA 79 



us think anything new in the way of food or drink may be 

 poisonous. I began to feel quite jolly and playful, so I 

 reached out again for the mug, and drank off the lot. Then 

 I felt I wanted to do all kinds of silly things. I talked in 

 baboon language to the sailors, and told them about my 

 life when I was wild and free amongst the mountains of 

 Basutoland, but they only laughed at me, for they were poor, 

 uneducated folk, and didn't understand baboon language. 



I stood on my head, I capered, I jumped, I turned 

 somersaults, I yelled, and I cracked jokes. Presently my 

 legs began to get wobbly. They seemed to do just the 

 opposite to what I wanted them to do. Then my neck, 

 somehow, wouldn't keep my head straight, and it would 

 bob down, then from side to side. My legs got so feeble 

 that I could no longer stand upon them, so I lay upon my 

 back and jabbered, and mumbled, and gurgled, whilst the 

 sailor men gathered round me. They seemed to think it 

 was all great fun. A far-away sort of feeling seemed to 

 steal over me, and I went off to sleep. 



FROM BAD TO WORSE 



When I awoke my head felt like a lump of lead, and 

 I was low-spirited and utterly miserable. But a curious 

 thirst came over me, and I cried out. A dish of water was 

 brought. I tasted it, but somehow it didn't seem at all 

 nice, and my soul rebelled against it so much that I pitched 

 it away. I tried to make the sailors understand that I 

 wanted more rum. At last I succeeded, for one of them 

 brought me some, and I just gulped it down all in a second. 

 I got so fond of rum and beer that I would get nearly mad 

 if I didn't get it every day. The sailors used to save up 

 some of their allowance, and give me quite a lot. I think 

 they did it so as to amuse themselves watching me do all 

 sorts of stupid and absurd things when I was drunk. I am 



