attentively, and remarked to friend: "There seems to be a smoothness
and variety of sound in his speech that indicates that he possesses
some sort of language. Had I time to study this brute, I might learn
his method of communicating with his fellows. Indeed, there is a
possibility that he may turn out to be the missing link."

However, the professor not yet having learned his language, Prince
Zingle was obliged to remain hungry. The monkeys threw several
cocoanuts into the cage, but the prisoner did not know what kind of
fruit these were; so, after several attempts to bite the hard shell, he
decided they were not good to eat.

Day after day now passed away, and, although crowds of monkeys came to
examine Zingle in his cage, the poor Prince grew very pale and thin for
lack of proper food, while the continuance of his unhappy imprisonment
made him sad and melancholy.

"Could I but escape and find my way back to my father's valley," he
moaned, wearily, "I should be willing to fly small kites forever
afterward."

Often he begged them to let him go, but the monkeys gruffly commanded
him to "stop his jabbering," and poked him with long sticks having
sharp points; so that the Prince's life became one of great misery.

At the end of about two weeks a happy relief came to Zingle, for then a
baby hippopotamus was captured and brought to the Royal Zoo, and after
this the monkeys left the Prince's cage and crowded around that of the
new arrival.