MUNTO, THE MONKEY GARDENER. II. If Munto was ever at large among the Trees he could be easily caught, for we discovered that he stood greatly in awe of fire arms. Before this discovery was made, the Syce used to go up the tree after him, when Munto would keep quite still, till the man had reached to the very top, and then would quietly jump on to a neighbouring tree-a feat which the poor Syce could not accomplish; he had to come down and toil up another; but as the animal could have gone almost over the whole place in the same aerial fashion, the trees being so close together, the Syce soon had to desist, from sheer exhaustion, and at last, Edwin tried what shooting at Munto would do-only charging the pistol with about half-a-dozen small shots-which, however were quite sufficient to frighten him into submission. Once, when we were both out, and Munto was enjoying a ramble in the tops of the cocoanut trees on his own account, the Syce went to a friend of ours, and asked him to come and shoot him down-a request with which our friend complied most literally, for he put a whole charge into Munto, and it took many weeks of careful nursing, besides sundry surgical operations, to make Munto himself again. After this, the mere action of pointing a pistol at him was enough to make him hurry down and rush into the nearest pool of water, where the Syce could secure him. On one occasion, after a cold bath of this kind, he caught a very bad attack of rheumatism and had to be nursed and cared for like a human being. I could go near him then without fear, for his poor limbs were quite stiff and powerless, and many an hour I passed at his side, fomenting him with hot water, or rubbing in embrocations. He was very fond of hot brandy and water, and the sight of a wine-glassful would make his eyes sparkle again, and he would take the glass in his hand, and drink it off with immense delight. We had once arranged to leave home for a few weeks and go to a pretty Bungalow, called Tanjong Kling, seven or eight miles from Malacca, and beautifully situated on a promontory, commanding an extensive view of the Straits-but, what was to be done with Munto? It was settled that he must go with us, but, as the Syce would, of course, be wanted to attend our palanquin, who could take charge of this troublesome animal? After due deliberation we conceived what we thought was a very bright idea. All the servants, except the Syce, were going in a boat, taking with them our domestic goods. and chattels, and we thought that if a small canoe were to be towed astern, Munto could be fasted in it and thus conveyed in safety. The boat was loaded, and the last thing the Syce did, before he got the palanquin ready, was to secure Munto, as firmly as possible, in the stern of this canoe, leaving it to the other servants to arrange everything else, and then, off our party started. The carriage road followed the windings of the shore, and often commanded a full view of the little bay formed by the promontory on which the Bungalow was built. Many an anxious glance we turned towards the boat, and its little tender, as they were wending their way across the water! It appeared to us that Munto was either uncommonly restless, or uncommonly busy, and we wondered what it was all about, for, as his figure came out in broad relief against the bright sea, we could see him waving his arms, and often jumping as high as his chain would permit him. When we reached Tanjong Kling, we sent the Syce down to the landing place, to meet the boats, and bring Munto up. He soon came back leading his charge, and with a broad grin on his face, while Munto looked as demure as possible his usual expression after a grand piece of mischief. As the Syce tied him to the foot of a cocoanut tree, he turned a professional glance up, and around, as if his only wish was, to ascertain how many ripe nuts there might be for him to gather. The Syce told no tales, but we soon found out what had happened. The Cook, seeing that Munto was so firmly fastened in the stern of the canoe, had thought he might safely put a basket, containing the cooking utensils, in the fore part of it-taking care to place it well forward, out of reach of the Monkey's mischievous fingers. But alas! the Cook had not calculated on the length of his hind legs. As soon as they were all fairly embarked, Munto stretched out one of these long limbs, grasped the basket, drew it towards him, and then began his usual work of demolition, while the servants looked helplessly on, as he broke one chattie after another, and either threw the fragments at them, or, as far as possible, into the sea, giving a sort of triumphant dance every now and then over his achievements. By the time the boats had come to the journey's end, the basket, as well as its contents, had all been disposed of, and our poor Cook had to toil back to Malacca to procure the necessary appliances for preparing our evening meal, which was a very late one that day. Our Chaplain at Malacca was a very powerfully built man, and he prided himself so much upon his physical strength, that Edwin one day challenged him to a trial with Munto, which was accepted. It was managed in this way. A bamboo about five feet long was brought, and the Chaplain held one end, while the other was given to Munto, to whom Edwin explained, in Malay, that he was to pull as hard as he could. The match was very soon concluded by Munto's suddenly jerking the Chaplain down, and then performing a triumphant dance upon his back as the poor man lay face downwards on the ground. I will only mention one more incident, as another proof of Munto's great strength, and command of muscle. He was very fond, during the process of nut-picking, of jumping on a leaf of the tree close to the outside point, so as to set it swaying with his own weight, and on one occasion, the leaf he selected for this "rock-a-by on the tree top," was not strong enough for the purpose, and became detached from the stem, when, of course, down fell poor Munto with it. We thought it was all over with him, but, to our astonishment, when he was about half way on his perilous descent, he seemed to collect his faculties gave a sideway spring in mid air, grasped the trunk of the tree, and raced up again to his work with a very sheepish expression on his face, as if he felt ashamed of having been guilty of such a piece of clumsiness. Our "head gardener" came to an untimely end, at last, after many years' service. The Syce left us to go home, and Munto became inconsolable. He would not be friendly with his successor, and Edwin had to attend to him entirely, but Munto missed his formerly ever-present friend, and was both sulky and indifferent, even to Edwin's occasional visits. One day, there was something left at tiffin, which we thought would please Munto, and Edwin took it out to him, when the animal caught his hand and seized the skin at the back between his teeth, but, almost at the same moment, seemed to relent and let go his hold, without tearing anything quite away, though he had already inflicted a severe wound. Fearing that the animal was going mad, we decided that he had better be destroyed at once. He was walking to and fro, at the extreme length of his chain, like a wild beast in a cage, and, evidently, in a very desperate mood, for the sight of the pistol, which usually alarmed him so much, seemed a matter of perfect indifference to him then. He bore his fate with stolid calmness, and as though he almost preferred to have done with life, now that he had lost the friend who had made life pleasant to him. We tried to have his skin preserved and stuffed, so as to have the harmless figure of our old gardener still about the premises, but it was poorly done, and at last had to be thrown away, and nothing remained to us of poor Munto, but the recollection of his old tricks, which have served as a topic of conversation many a time since. A TRIP TO JAPAN. II. The amount of discomfort which has to be endured in seeing what is to be seen in Japan, is really formidable. Sir Harry Parkes has just returned from an excursion to Fusiyama, Lady Parkes being, I believe, the only Lady who has ever accomplished the ascent of this mountain. It is wholly uninhabited for a distance of ten miles from the summit, on either side;-and, as the roads are so bad, as to be quite impracticable for horses, the feat involves a walk, within the day, of thirty miles. No bearers are procurable, and it is astonishing that any, except the most robust, should be equal to the task. The only sleeping |