"What is there horrible about it, David?" the old man asked. "They
understand us no better than we understand the lower animals of our
own world. Why, I have come across here very learned discussions
of the question as to whether gilaks, that is men, have any means
of communication. One writer claims that we do not even reason--that
our every act is mechanical, or instinctive. The dominant race
of Pellucidar, David, have not yet learned that men converse among
themselves, or reason. Because we do not converse as they do it
is beyond them to imagine that we converse at all. It is thus that
we reason in relation to the brutes of our own world. They know
that the Sagoths have a spoken language, but they cannot comprehend
it, or how it manifests itself, since they have no auditory apparatus.
They believe that the motions of the lips alone convey the meaning.
That the Sagoths can communicate with us is incomprehensible to
them.

"Yes, David," he concluded, "it would entail murder to carry out
your plan."

"Very well then, Perry." I replied. "I shall become a murderer."

He got me to go over the plan again most carefully, and for some
reason which was not at the time clear to me insisted upon a very
careful description of the apartments and corridors I had just
explored.

"I wonder, David," he said at length, "as you are determined to
carry out your wild scheme, if we could not accomplish something
of very real and lasting benefit for the human race of Pellucidar
at the same time. Listen, I have learned much of a most surprising