Coleridge of the Apes, by Myram Huey

STC's cabin aboard ship had been plagued by what he called "demonic nobodies", invisible creatures who gave him no rest, prodding him to exertions he could ill afford. By the time the ship docked at Gibraltar, however, these "nobodies" had dispersed and STC was in brimming mode. He set off for the Rock and it was there on its eastern side that he climbed with the apes of the region, imitating their calls, delighted by the ease with which they outpaced him. Resting on the edge of a precipitous drop, STC bathed his face in the sunshine. Opening his eyes, it was hard not to think the world Pure Extravaganza. Gratitude trickled down his cheeks. Again he called out - in the language he termed 'Monkey' - and there they were again, this time on a ledge far above him, three or four of them, looking down on him, without the least trace of concern. It was just what he needed. It was April 1804. STC would always forget it.