text: [Themes: family friendly, historical]
  
  Your uncle and aunt take your mute disbelief as shame-facedness, and soon forgive your tardiness. They then give you a tour of the house, which is made up of your uncle's study, three bedrooms, a living room with a piano, and a dining room.
  
  "Right, and this is where you'll be sleeping." Your uncle shows you a room, which is just as plain as the others. "Any questions?"
  
  "Yes, a few... You mentioned in your letters that you were good friends with the man who discovered the ape limb- do you know if he's still in India?"
  
  "Oh yes, Thomas Milton, reliable chap, though I'm afraid to say he went back to England not a week ago. Got a nasty bite from a python, apparently some pillock he was with decided to rile it. No, you won't get any information that way; however Milton did send us a copy of his notes before, in case some accident of that nature occurred. I believe I left them in the room you're staying in."
  
  "Thank you Uncle, although it's unlucky for Milton. Oh, and would it be all right if I brought in one or two plants, just into my room of course, to inspect them more closely?"
  
  A vein begins to throb on your uncle's temple. "Good Lord, boy! Plants in the house! Certainly not- never trust those strange, Indian plants myself. Goodnight."
  
  "...Uh, goodnight."
  
  The next day, you wake up early, to the sound of somebody muttering. Sticking your head out of the door, you see an extremely odd sight. Aunt Agnes, clad in gardening overalls and a gas mask, is kneeling on the floor and repeatedly spraying something on the floor. You squint your eyes, and see it's a poor little beetle, drowning in pesticide. When it's dead, Agnes lets out a crow of triumph, picks it up with tweezers and carries it outside. You retreat, praying she didn't see you.
  
  A few hours pass until you decide it's safe to venture out of your room. During that time, you find the notes Milton left and flick through them curiously; there's a section on snakes, and several interesting plants are described in detail, for example the Piper anduncum, also known as the Cordoncillo, an antiseptic green shrub with large leaves that can even stop bleeding! And then you come to the page on the Gigantopithecus. A diagram of the bones, together and seperately, shows that, if the whole body was found, it would stand up to roughly ten feet tall. Milton has scribbled down some calculations, and at the bottom you can just make out a few words: Estimated weight, 305 kgs. You whistle in amazement- it would take four fully grown men to match this ape's weight! And you imagine most trees wouldn't be able to support its weight.
  
  Reluctantly, you put the notes away and find your uncle and aunt merrily eating breakfast, your aunt now in a respectable dress and cardigan. You take a seat and select a scone, all the while exchanging pleasantries. Then Robert asks what your plans for the day are.
  
  "I know you were planning to explore the jungle," (both your aunt and your uncle wrinkle their noses), "However there are many other interesting activities you should consider beforehand. There's a town just a few minutes down the river, which I'm told is delightful. Otherwise, the Collins' palm plantation is a fascinating project, and I have prepared, ahem, a little presentation should it intrigue you."
  
  You think carefully. On one hand, it would be foolish to just wander into the forest without any prior knowledge, and somebody in town is bound to know something- they might even agree to be your guide. However, your uncle is the reason you know about the Gigantopithecus in the first place, and he agreed to have you- maybe it's your duty, as your father would put it, to listen to this presentation first. And what about your parent's letter? That's likely to arrive soon, maybe even today- and if Robert and Agnes found your "tardiness" unacceptable, when they find out you've been disinherited, they'll pack you back to England. You'll need to either win them over, or find the ape skeleton quickly.
  
  > listen to the presentation
  It's highly unlikely you'll find the skeleton before the letter arrives, and before then, you'll need to do everything you can to get Robert and Agnes on your side. You put on your most flattering smile, similar to the one you use at cocktail parties, and lean forward slightly in your seat.
  
  "Well, this presentation of yours does sound fascinating, and I'd be thrilled to hear it!" Your uncle beams, and says:
  
  "Oh, well, bearing in mind I haven't spent very long on it, so it won't be perfect... But come through to the sitting room, we'll do it there!" And he bustles off, rubbing his hands together gleefully. Aunt Agnes begins to clear up, and you thank her for preparing breakfast, adding a compliment for good measure; hopefully it gets you a step closer to securing your place here. Then your uncle beckons you through to the sitting room, and you take a seat in a chair, which is uncomfortably hard and straight-backed. You see Uncle Robert has pinned up photographs (a new fad which has taken hold of England) of rows of trees and smiling Indian workers.
  
  "Right, let's begin! The Collins' Red Oil Palm Plantation was established fifteen years ago, and since its size has multiplied tenfold..."
  
  It was as you expected: the "little" presentation drags on for hours, until at least midday, although your uncle is too engrossed in his lecture to notice. The uncomfortable chair turns out to be a blessing, since without it, you would have surely fallen asleep by now. Before you let your mind drift, you do find out a few things: this plantation is one of the most profitable in the country, mainly because the unlucky natives hired to work for the company are barely paid enough to survive on. And due to increased demand, the plantation has been expanding, and replacing jungle terrain. You picture plants and animals alike trampled underfoot by tank-like machines, and all because somebody in England fancies a fried egg. Would it be possible to persuade your uncle to stop expanding? With both inherited and earned money, he must have enough gold for several lifetimes.
  
  "So, what do you think?" Uncle Robert's anxious face is full of apprehension which, realising you weren't paying the slightest attention, turns into a frown.
  
  "My apologies, Uncle Robert. I was just, er... reflecting on your views concerning the Industrial Revolution."
  
  "Oh! Well, that's quite all right then. As I was saying, this business is beginning to get too big for my weary hands, and I'm keen for it to remain run by the family. I'm offering you the position of my second in command." You remain silent for a long time; this is unexpected. You barely know your uncle, but then, he does seem infatuated with England, and maybe you, an aristocratic pureblood, came along at the perfect time. "So, are you interested?"
  
  > Accept
  You couldn't possibly refuse such an offer. You'll be making money by the thousands, doing Uncle Robert a favour, and if you're allowed on the frontlines, where the jungle is being torn down, maybe you can save some rare specimens. Who knows, you might even chance upon the ape skeleton!
  
  "Wow, that's... a very generous proposal, Uncle Robert, thank you. Of course I'll accept!" Your uncle lets out a breath.
  
  "You've made me one very happy man, William! Well, your work begins immediately after we've had something to eat."
  
  A brief lunch, with cottage pie. Agnes explains smugly that everything is imported from England, even the salt. You pretend to look impressed, but inwardly you sigh... Despite travelling halfway across the world, you just can't seem to escape your homeland.
  
  Then you're off to the plantation, which is the first time you've been outside since you arrived here- you can't wait. However instead of going through the front gates, a servant, who returns your 'Good afternoon!' with small grin this time, leads you down a side-path, through a small gate, then along a fast-flowing river. You walk in silence for five minutes, soaking it all in. The leafy canopy protects you from the glare of the sun, creating a cool, peaceful atmosphere. And the birds, with their lilting melodies, provide pleasant background music. Interestingly, it's not as humid or wet as you expected- in fact, you would describe this jungle more like an exotic forest than anything else. Gazing around, you spot a turmeric plant, which Milton mentioned, and itch to copy it down in your notebook, but your uncle hurries you on. You walk for a few more minutes, surrounded by trees, and then- wow.
  
  The proper jungle cuts off suddenly, leaving something quite different in its place; perfect rows of palm trees, all arranged so that every inch of space is used. Here and there, a worker makes their way through the trees, collecting small, thick-skinned red fruits.
  
  "So, here it is," Your uncle announces, with a definite note of pride in his voice. "The Collins' palm plantation is all you can see for miles around." He walks up to the nearest tree, and plucks off one of the red fruits. "And this little fruit is why I became so wealthy. My workers harvest them all, and then we send them off to factories, so that all the juice, and by that I mean the oil, can be squeezed out. The reason my plantation is so successful? It produces large quantities of top quality oil in a short space of time. And I need it to stay that way." You have a creeping suspicion that he's been planning this little speech for some time. "Your job is to sort all my paperwork in the morning, or arrangements with potential clients, and then in the afternoon you'll be supervising the workers, and giving them their pay at the end of the week. Oh, and every so often we expand by a few acres, so I'll need you to monitor that as well. There's no work on Saturday afternoon and the whole of Sunday. It's not a bad life, William, and you'll soon get into a regular routine." Uncle Robert claps you on the shoulder and moves on. Hm, this new job doesn't sound too boring, and as you'd hoped, you'll be able to keep an eye out for any sign of the ape skeleton.
  
  The rest of the afternoon is spent at the plantation, while your uncle shows you the ropes. Every so often you pass a worker, who greets Robert, however with the same sullenness that you saw earlier. Seeing how weary they look, you smile and give them a friendly nod the first few times, but then your uncle gives you such a frosty glare that you stop after that. The sun sets, and presently you both begin to make your way back to the bungalow.
  
  At breakfast the following morning, a letter arrives in the post. You recognise the familiar handwriting, and freeze. Aunt Agnes, ever watchful, notices.
  
  "What is it, William? Oh, look, I think this letter's from your parents- don't worry, I'm sure there's something for you inside as well. Why the long face?" You remain silent. "Well, do excuse us while we have quick look." As your aunt and your uncle both lean over the paper, you see their expressions slowly change from interest, to surprise, to confusion, and then finally to disgust. They look up at you, similar to the way Agnes was looking at that poor dung beetle yesterday morning. Quivering with anger, your aunt opens and closes her mouth to speak, but Uncle Robert lays a placating hand on her, and turns to you. He orders you, in a harsh voice, to:
  
  "Vacate the room, boy, Aunt Agnes and I need to discuss your shameful deceit. We'll call you in due course."
  
  Jittery with uncertainty, you pace around the house for a while. Furious whispers are coming from the dining room, but you can't quite make them out. And then your uncle calls you back in; as you enter, they both look up, faces hostile.
  
  "Well William, we both had a fine shock reading your poor parents' letter this morning. They said they've disinherited you, would you believe it? And just imagine if you'd been preying on our hospitality all the while!" Your aunt laughs coldly. "No doubt you've thought up some pitiful excuse. Well?"
  
  It's not over yet. If your aunt and uncle are hearing you out, they must at least be considering keeping you. Should you tell them the truth- that you only came for the prestigious Gigantopithecus - or at least part of it? After all, Agnes is very perceptive, and might be able to tell if you're lying.
  
  On the other hand, flattery could be the way forward. You remember Uncle Robert's reaction when you said you'd be "thrilled" to listen to his presentation- he'd probably lap up any compliment you cared to throw his way.
  
  > tell (most of) the truth
  The best lies are those based on the truth. You take a deep breath and begin.
  
  "Uncle Robert, Aunt Agnes, I understand how you must be feeling right now. I've taken advantage of you, and in your eyes, I must amount to nothing more than a cockroach. But isn't it your obligation, or in other words your duty to hear me out, just for five minutes?" you say, banking on the fact that Robert has similar values to his brother. This request is met with silence, and so you go on.
  
  "The reason I came here was because- well, my life back in England was unbearably dull. It felt like I was doomed to a life with so many restrictions that I was constantly treading on eggshells. But when we heard from you, you described India as a land full of adventure and excitement, although I know you don't always see it that way. So when you mentioned the Gigantopithecus, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to go. And, upon arriving, I discovered it was every bit as good as I'd imagined, and you were so hospitable (you can't resist just a little flattery); I was afraid if I told you my terrible secret, I'd lose all of this." You can see your aunt is sceptical, but Uncle Robert stern frown has softened somewhat. Now is the time to play your trump card.
  
  "Uncle Robert, forgive me if I'm wrong, but didn't you come to India for similar reasons? Because you wanted something different to England? And look how far you've come!" Then, adopting a politely concerned air, you say, "It would be a shame if you lost all that, and you had to hand the company over to a stranger, just for the sake of revenge..." You let the sentence dangle in the air for a few seconds- perfect.
  
  Ten minutes later, after a long lecture and many reprimands, your uncle and aunt forgive you. You are aware that any conversations from now on will be strained, but at least you're allowed to stay.
  
  Over the next few weeks, you establish a regular routine. From Monday to Friday, you work for your uncle. The mornings can drag on, but the afternoons down at the plantation always make up for it. Soon, you become acquainted with the regular workers. Most of them are paid pittance for their trouble; one worker tells you that a whole day's work only provides for one meal. After hearing this, you take to slipping a few extra coins into the pay of particularly weary-looking workers. Your uncle never notices a thing.
  
  And whenever the plantation needs to expand, you are always nearby. Once or twice, you pick up a few specimens, such as another turmeric plant, and once even an enormous black butterfly with bright blue flecks that had just died. But you never see any sign of the ape bones, or, come to think of it, hear anything about it from the town nearby. Maybe it was a myth, after all.
  
  Meanwhile, your uncle gets older, and he begins to lose his memory and have trouble walking. A month later, he's confined to his bed; a local doctor determines that, sadly, it's just part of life and nothing can be done. So one day, after roughly three months of work, he calls you into his room and promptly appoints you as the new head of the Collins' plantation! You'd hoped this might happen, albeit under different circumstances, and vow to show Uncle Robert that he made the right choice.
  
  You work hard, learn quickly, and soon the Collins' palm oil becomes the most highly solicited in all of India; you also become the wealthiest man in all of India, although you always make sure to give some of your income to your aunt and uncle. Eventually, the company becomes so successful that the plantation needs to expand every day. And, convincing yourself that a few less trees isn't going to harm anyone, you allow these plans to proceed- besides, it'll provide a few more much-needed jobs. You never go back to England, or speak to your parents again.
  
  One day in your study, whilst going through some papers, you find that old sketchbook you used to carry around with you everywhere. Intrigued, you sit down and begin leafing through it. There are all the plants from the forest in England, and the Indian River dolphin! Then you come to the page you'd reserved for the glorious discovery of the Gigantopithecus. The blank page glares up at you, because, despite all your wealth, you've failed in the one task you came to India to achieve.
  
  Where did you go wrong?