Either they hadn’t liked his stories, or his language had failed to communicate anything but a monotonous voice. In afterthought he felt it was perhaps overambitious to have hit them with so many new concepts.
He felt that these apes lacked Buz’s gifts of communication and wondered if he could learn, by rereading Dr. Bünder’s notebooks, how he had performed the laryngeal operation on Buz. Yet what good would the operation itself be if there were no electronic voice boxes to install?
Vaguely stirred, vaguely dissatisfied, Cohn hurried back to his cave and began to draw up plans for a heavy gate for the entrance, but search where he would, could find no strong metal pin to hang it on.
He began instead to construct a wall of split oak logs-very hard work—a device he planned to put on rollers so it could quickly be moved across the mouth of the cave in case of peril.
Since the arrival of the five chimps, Buz had made himself comparatively scarce at the cave. Reasonably enough—he liked hanging out with his new friends, understandable for a creature who had been deprived of a carefree childhood.
Once a week, or twice, he came in for supper with his dod
and stayed over. Or he came to hear a story. For months he had asked only for Cain and Abel. “Thot’s where the oction is.” Once in a while he returned for a swig of banana beer and then was out again till all hours.
One pre-dawn night Cohn woke from a stark dream of drowning, hearing gurgling sounds. He feared another flood but then remembered Buz’s borborygmus.
In the dark he could hear the chimp stealthily picking through the food stores for some morsel or other. Outside, the sky lit up in foggy flashes of summer lightning.
Cohn aimed his torch at Buz, who instinctively bristled when the light hit him. He self-consciously climbed down the shelf.
“I hope you aren’t monkeying with my phonograph records ?” Cohn said
“I om not a monkey,” said Buz. “Ond I don’t eat voice records like some stupid gorillas do. Whot I om looking for is a piece of coconut condy for Mary Modelyn.”
“Who’s Mary Madelyn?”
“The girl chimponzee I om interested in.”
“Did you give her that name?”
Buz proudly said he had. He said naming was nobody’s monopoly.
Cohn said it had been Adam’s task and on this island was his. “But I have no objection if you name a few names —if you kindly notify me first.”
Buz said he didn’t see why he had to. Naming names was freedom of speech. Cohn dropped the subject, not wanting to inhibit him.
“Are you romantically interested in her?”
“Thot depends. Om I sexuolly moture enough yet?”
“That’s for you to say, Buz. Some male chimps are slower than others. Some attempt to mount a female when they are eight or nine months old.”
“I hod nobody to mount when I was thot age, not even my mother to proctice on.”
Cohn told him not to worry, he’d get the swing of it when he had to.
“Not with thot loudmouth Esau around. He growls when he sees me looking ot her. He’s two years post my age and hos strong muscles.”
“Is Esau the aggressive male? Did you name him too?”
“He’s the hairy ape. I hov named all the new ones.”
Cohn wanted to know the other names.
“Melchior is the old one.”
“Named for whom?”
“Dr. Bünder’s father-in-law. He used to give me marsh-mollows.”
“Who else?”
“Luke and Saul of Tarsus are twins.”
“Where did you get their names?”
“Dr. Bünder had two gerbils with those names.”
Cohn got out of bed, slipped on his robe, and they sat in their rockers facing each other. He asked Buz if the apes were a family, and Buz replied they had met in their wanderings on the island after the Flood.
“Where did they stay during the Flood ?”
Buz said he didn’t know, probably in trees. He said that Mary Madelyn liked Melchior and got along with the twins, but not with Esau. “All he wants is sex.”
“Won’t she oblige?”
“She
He felt that these apes lacked Buz’s gifts of communication and wondered if he could learn, by rereading Dr. Bünder’s notebooks, how he had performed the laryngeal operation on Buz. Yet what good would the operation itself be if there were no electronic voice boxes to install?
Vaguely stirred, vaguely dissatisfied, Cohn hurried back to his cave and began to draw up plans for a heavy gate for the entrance, but search where he would, could find no strong metal pin to hang it on.
He began instead to construct a wall of split oak logs-very hard work—a device he planned to put on rollers so it could quickly be moved across the mouth of the cave in case of peril.
Since the arrival of the five chimps, Buz had made himself comparatively scarce at the cave. Reasonably enough—he liked hanging out with his new friends, understandable for a creature who had been deprived of a carefree childhood.
Once a week, or twice, he came in for supper with his dod
and stayed over. Or he came to hear a story. For months he had asked only for Cain and Abel. “Thot’s where the oction is.” Once in a while he returned for a swig of banana beer and then was out again till all hours.
One pre-dawn night Cohn woke from a stark dream of drowning, hearing gurgling sounds. He feared another flood but then remembered Buz’s borborygmus.
In the dark he could hear the chimp stealthily picking through the food stores for some morsel or other. Outside, the sky lit up in foggy flashes of summer lightning.
Cohn aimed his torch at Buz, who instinctively bristled when the light hit him. He self-consciously climbed down the shelf.
“I hope you aren’t monkeying with my phonograph records ?” Cohn said
“I om not a monkey,” said Buz. “Ond I don’t eat voice records like some stupid gorillas do. Whot I om looking for is a piece of coconut condy for Mary Modelyn.”
“Who’s Mary Madelyn?”
“The girl chimponzee I om interested in.”
“Did you give her that name?”
Buz proudly said he had. He said naming was nobody’s monopoly.
Cohn said it had been Adam’s task and on this island was his. “But I have no objection if you name a few names —if you kindly notify me first.”
Buz said he didn’t see why he had to. Naming names was freedom of speech. Cohn dropped the subject, not wanting to inhibit him.
“Are you romantically interested in her?”
“Thot depends. Om I sexuolly moture enough yet?”
“That’s for you to say, Buz. Some male chimps are slower than others. Some attempt to mount a female when they are eight or nine months old.”
“I hod nobody to mount when I was thot age, not even my mother to proctice on.”
Cohn told him not to worry, he’d get the swing of it when he had to.
“Not with thot loudmouth Esau around. He growls when he sees me looking ot her. He’s two years post my age and hos strong muscles.”
“Is Esau the aggressive male? Did you name him too?”
“He’s the hairy ape. I hov named all the new ones.”
Cohn wanted to know the other names.
“Melchior is the old one.”
“Named for whom?”
“Dr. Bünder’s father-in-law. He used to give me marsh-mollows.”
“Who else?”
“Luke and Saul of Tarsus are twins.”
“Where did you get their names?”
“Dr. Bünder had two gerbils with those names.”
Cohn got out of bed, slipped on his robe, and they sat in their rockers facing each other. He asked Buz if the apes were a family, and Buz replied they had met in their wanderings on the island after the Flood.
“Where did they stay during the Flood ?”
Buz said he didn’t know, probably in trees. He said that Mary Madelyn liked Melchior and got along with the twins, but not with Esau. “All he wants is sex.”
“Won’t she oblige?”
“She
Similar Books
