"That's it!" she cried.
"They have all the earmarks," he said. "Whites of the eyes showing
all around the irises, hair growing stiffly erect from the scalp
and low down upon the forehead--even their mannerisms and their
carriage are those of maniacs."
The girl shuddered.
"Another thing about them," continued the Englishman, "that doesn't
appear normal is that they are afraid of parrots and utterly fearless
of lions."
"Yes," said the girl; "and did you notice that the birds seem utterly
fearless of them--really seem to hold them in contempt? Have you
any idea what language they speak?"
'No," said the man, "I have been trying to figure that out. It's not
like any of the few native dialects of which I have any knowledge."
"It doesn't sound at all like the native language," said the girl,
"but there is something familiar about it. You know, every now and
then I feel that I am just on the verge of understanding what they
are saying, or at least that somewhere I have heard their tongue
before, but final recognition always eludes me."
"I doubt if you ever heard their language spoken," said the man.
"These people must have lived in this out-of-the-way valley for
ages and even if they had retained the original language of their
ancestors without change, which is doubtful, it must be some tongue
that is no longer spoken in the outer world.
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