But though we could signal and converse, there was no code for the signals, and our conversation was in an unknown tongue.
I suppose it was the heat, or the fact that I had gone through so terrible an experience from the narcotic, which made me feel so intensely irritable, for after our knocking and tapping had gone on for some time, I exclaimed—
“I wish to goodness they wouldn’t. What is the good of their keeping on doing that? It means nothing, and does no good.”
“Oh, but it do mean something, sir,” said Bob.
“Well, then, what?”
“They keep on tapping to show us where they are, and means us to go to them.”
“Why don’t they come to us?” I said, in a tone full of vexation.
“’Cause they can’t, sir.”
“And we can’t go to them,” I cried pettishly.
“Well, I don’t know, sir; I’ve been thinking as perhaps we could.”