A Decent Land — Chapter Four
Festival
A sound of squawking roused us from our slumber. Local parrots flew in fear of approaching mammals, crawling through the brush. Attracted to our scent, a group of simian detectives — loud and whooping in the distance — made their way towards us.
‘Kin wot?’ the vile creatures chattered.
‘Orr!’ was often the answer. Then we heard a rhythmic slap of calloused palms upon the hold. The salary chimps — or so we’d come to call them — formed a cordon; fascinated by the signs of struggle (from the night before). Our sleep had been tormented, so exhaustion kept us quiet. We huddled in a tense and shaking pile; listening.
‘Kin wot? Orr!’ said a singular chimp, with a deep and resonant tone.
‘Wot?’ the others replied. ‘Wot?’
‘Orr! Gronz w’zere.’
‘Kin wot?’
‘Gronz!’
‘Orr!’
‘Wot?’
‘Orr!’
And so it continued.
After an hour, our patience wore thin. With tentative movements, we opened the doors and sent a trio of soldiers to meet the salary chimps surrounding us (and hanging from the trees). Their semi-lexical bickering turned to animalistic bleats, as they reached for rocks about their feet…
