"I don't know," she replied, "there is something terribly uncanny about their appearance."
The man regarded one of their captors closely for a moment and then, turning to the girl asked, "Did you ever visit a madhouse?"
She looked up at him in quick understanding and with a horrified expression in her eyes. "That's it!" she cried.
"They have all the ear-marks," 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."
