“I am going to speak to you in a loud voice and in a tongue which you do not understand. Appear to listen intently to what I say, and occasionally mumble something as though replying in the same language—our escape may hinge upon the success of your efforts.”
Werper nodded in assent and understanding, and immediately there broke from the lips of his companion a strange jargon which might have been compared with equal propriety to the barking and growling of a dog and the chattering of monkeys.
The nearer soldiers looked in surprise at the ape-man. Some of them laughed, while others drew away in evident superstitious fear. The officer approached the prisoners while Tarzan was still jabbering, and halted behind them, listening in perplexed interest. When Werper mumbled some ridiculous jargon in reply his curiosity broke bounds, and he stepped forward, demanding to know what language it was that they spoke.
Tarzan had gauged the measure of the man’s culture from the nature and quality of his conversation during the march, and he rested the success of his reply upon the estimate he had made.
“Greek,” he explained.
“Oh, I thought it was Greek,” replied the officer; “but it has been so many years since I studied it that I was not sure. In future, however, I will thank you to speak in a language which I am more familiar with.”
Werper turned his head to hide a grin, whispering to Tarzan: “It was Greek to him all right—and to me, too.”
But one of the black soldiers mumbled in a low voice to a companion: “I have heard those sounds before—once at night when I was lost in the jungle, I heard the hairy men of the trees talking among themselves, and their words were like the words of this white man. I wish that we had not found him. He is not a man at all—he is a bad spirit, and we shall have bad luck if we do not let him go,” and the fellow rolled his eyes fearfully toward the jungle.
His companion laughed nervously, and moved away, to repeat the conversation, with variations and exaggerations, to others of the black soldiery, so that it was not long before a frightful tale of black magic and sudden death was woven about the giant prisoner, and had gone the rounds of the camp.
And deep in the gloomy jungle amidst the darkening shadows of the falling night a hairy, manlike creature swung swiftly southward upon some secret mission of his own.