Since arriving the previous day, they could do nothing but wait for the storm to pass.
It was early in the evening now; rain continued to beat incessantly upon the roof of the hut; the air was musky and humid. Fog had settled on the forest canopy, which extended for kilometres in every direction; a crimson stain appeared on the horizon, like a bloody wound against the cloud.
“I tell you what, Gerry,” said Eugene, “you’re lucky I’m so well-mannered and respectable. Under the circumstances, I may well have had to do something unfortunate!”
Eugene leaned on the window sill, twirling a cigarette in his fingers. Tall and pale, he was barely twenty years old; his hair was neatly slicked back, as if it had been plastered down, and he wore a raincoat with the collar turned up.
Glancing up at the darkening sky, then across the expanse of forest, and finally down at his companion in the armchair by the fire, Eugene drew deeply on his cigarette and slowly blew the smoke out into the rain.
“Anyway,” Eugene continued, “In a few days we’ll be several thousand dollars richer, and we can laugh about this miserable weather.”
The old man in the armchair stared fixedly into the fire. A fishing hat was perched on his head, and a tangle of grey hair protruded from underneath. He was in a daze; his voice was so hollow that it seemed not to come from him at all.
“Most likely we will.”
Eugene looked quizzically at him.
“What’s wrong with you, Gerry, my esteemed business associate? You’re definitely not yourself.”
“I’m not well.”
“Obviously.”
“I don’t feel well. Leave it.”
“You’re usually so witty! Remember that time you –huh, well -- talked a rather sentimental villager into telling you where we could find business?”
“Leave me alone; not tonight; please.”
Eugene began pacing the room.
“Anyway,” said Eugene, “speaking of business, I heard that some people were caught with gorilla skins on the mountains the other day. They will be imprisoned and charged a hefty fine! Really, it’s as if they committed murder, the way these authorities carry on.”
“They were caught?”
“Yes; well, several gorilla skins, actually!”
“If a human, in need of money, killed another human, or several humans, for money, the murderer would be imprisoned, perhaps for life; not to mention the effect on the conscience. Correct?”
“Correct. What on earth is wrong with you tonight?”
“What, then, is the difference here?”
Eugene stopped pacing. “Why is it different?”
“That’s what I asked, yes.”
“You’ve obviously gone senile, Gerry,” said Eugene, “but I’ll humour you anyway. The difference is that we, human beings, are the greater, and they the lesser. It can be justified as simply as that.”
“We are the greater by what margin? Humans can comprehend language. I see no other great advantage that can justify systematic slaughter.”
“Oh? That’s very noble of you.”
He sat down in front of the fire next to Gerald, folded one leg over the other, and stared at him. “What did they murder, Gerry? Gorillas have no morals; gorillas have no empathy. They are nothing but animals. Do you know, Gerry, how gorilla society works? Troops fight other troops; families tear themselves apart; infants are preyed upon; – it is a society controlled by the most aggressive. Human beings are the greatest species on earth simply because we have the notions of morality and empathy. We do not live to merely exist as they do. There is your difference.”
Standing up suddenly, and muttering under his breath as if he were quickly building up a fury, Eugene began pacing around the room again.
“Ok, Gerry, are you satisfied?”
Eugene suddenly caught the eyes of Gerald, who had been watching him in amazement the whole time; he paused for a moment, as if he sensed something surprising to him, and continued pacing.
“Listen, let’s put all this stuff aside. I’m in the mood for a story, Gerry; it’s quite a good one. You probably know it, actually. An old man was on an expedition in the Himalayas – a stupid, senile old man, but that’s not really part of the story. Anyway, he was in the Himalayas; not for the first time, either; he had been there and many other places lots of times.”
“There’s no need to torment m-”
“So, he was trekking through the snow, looking for a particular leopard that had been pointed out to him as being particularly suitable for his purpose. He found it, lined it up – but shot the wrong one! A mother, in fact, with three or four cubs. He made quite a mess indeed. This old man, a veteran of the business, had bagged countless skins before; but this time, something must have blown inside his own head, because he has never been quite the same since. Isn’t that an extraordinary story? I don’t actually know the end of it; I do hope I find out, though.”
It was pitch black outside. The crimson stain had disappeared, and a startling white moon had taken its place. A bitter chill seeped through the hut.
“I’ll wake you in the morning, and we can prepare the traps and the rifles. Just so you know, I forgive you for your little outburst before -- a temporary lapse in sanity!”
Gerald suddenly got up from his chair by the fire, and without saying a word, he walked across the hut and out onto the veranda, slamming the door behind him.
“Good, good; you walk it off; I’ll see you at dawn, Gerry!”
The End
