"Who you? You who? Who you?"
The savage, to Mr. Pottle's surprise, answered after a brief moment:
"Me—Lee."
Here was luck. The man-eater could talk the Pottle lingo.
"Oh," said Mr. Pottle, to show that he understood, "you—Mealy."
The savage shook his head.
"No," he said; "Me—Lee. Me—Lee." He thumped his barrel-like chest with each word.
"Oh, I see," cried Mr. Pottle; "you Mealy-mealy."
The savage made a face that among civilized people would have meant that he did not think much of Mr. Pottle's intellect.
"Who you?" inquired Mealy-mealy.