George Adamson Lives with Apes

Magical George And The Dog Beast

George Adamson was less than one year old when they found him on the doorstep of Slaven Castle. He was small, chubby and cute. He had unusual white blond hair which stuck straight up on top of his small round head and curious pointy ears which stuck straight out at the sides. George was always smiling, his smile lit up his whole face and made his blue eyes sparkle. George had a large distinguishing birthmark. It looked like intertwining squiggles and it ran down the inside of his right arm.

The person who had left this adorable bundle on the doorstep of Slaven Castle had fed him well, kept him clean and possibly even loved him. A note left with George written on old fashioned parchment in the most beautiful italics said.

"This is George Adamson, please love him as we would have and look after him as we cannot."

If only the author of the note had done their research. Slaven Castle was not the kind of place where love existed.

They say that leadership should come from the top. At the top of Slaven Castle was Miss Grimm. This is what the children had to say about her.

"Grimm, Grimm, evil and thin. Blind on one side but she'll still have your skin."

Miss Grimm smelt of mothballs, lavender, cold tar soap and humbugs. A heady combination which made anyone unfortunate enough to have to stand near to her feel physically sick. The vile woman's black greasy hair was always scraped back off her face and pulled into a tight topknot. It stretched her puckered and wrinkly skin so tightly that her huge nose and harsh bony features stuck out all the more. No one knew how old she was but the children guessed she was at least one-hundred. Since her accident the old woman wore a black leather patch over her dead eye, underneath it lay a milky white eyeball which was covered in slime. Brown wax often dribbled from her useless left ear, staining her bony cheek in its slippery trail down to her chin.

This grotesque creature's thin frame was bent double and on her back was a large hump. She held her two withered hands out in front of her when she walked her fingers clawed with thick yellow nails which curled around on themselves.

What Miss Grimm lacked in strength she made up for in wickedness. It was her mission to think of new and increasingly cruel ways to punish Slaven's children for their slightest indiscretions. The vile woman went out of her way to make George's life as miserable as possible. He was continually blamed for things that he had not done or made to do extra chores around the castle. You might think that being brought up in these circumstances would make George Adamson a sad child with no hope or joy. You would be wrong. George Adamson was brilliant, George Adamson was courageous and best of all George Adamson was magic.

George was about nine years old on the night he discovered that he was magic. The poor urchin had been picked to wash the dinner pots again and was just drying his very last one. Propped up on-top of eight sacks of potatoes so that he could reach the stainless steel sink George had managed to finish early. The starving child had also managed to avoid a huge slice of chocolate cake Cooke had left around the kitchen to tempt him.

"Cook, Cooke, take a second look. Chew quickly, don't savour, then swallow the muck."

The cook at the school, who went by the name Cooke was a curious, erm, person? The children were not quite sure whether Cooke was a man or a woman and I don't think the teachers knew either.

Cooke wore filthy whites that were more like greys. Cooke's chefs hat was always pulled right down over the eyes so that the only features visible were a huge red bulbous nose and a crooked toothless grin. It was a wonder that Cooke could see maybe this was why the food at Slaven castle always tasted so disgusting. Cooke only ever grunted or mumbled to communicate and the only person who could understand the strange language was Miss Grimm. The cook was under strict instructions to only make the blandest, cheapest, least exciting food for the children. This was always either, boiled potatoes, boiled porridge, boiled vegetables or some kind of boiled meat. There was NEVER any dessert. Once at Christmas the children had got a raw carrot each for lunch. The magnificent vegetables had been bright orange! This may not seem exciting to you but to the children of Slaven who had only ever seen grey food it had been truly amazing!