full of jargonings, that the birds in the groves were greatly puzzled;
not knowing where lay the virtue of sounds, so incoherent.

And, in a good measure, this held true of all tongues spoken
throughout the Archipelago; the birds marveling at mankind, and
mankind at the birds; wondering how they could continually sing; when,
for all man knew to the contrary, it was impossible they could be
holding intelligent discourse. And thus, though for thousands of
years, men and birds had been dwelling together in Mardi, they
remained wholly ignorant of each other's secrets; the Islander
regarding the fowl as a senseless songster, forever in the clouds; and
the fowl him, as a screeching crane, destitute of pinions and lofty
aspirations.

Over and above numerous other miraculous powers imputed to the
Pontiffs as spiritual potentates, there was ascribed to them one
special privilege of a secular nature: that of healing with a touch
the bites of the ravenous sharks, swarming throughout the lagoon. With
these they were supposed to be upon the most friendly terms; according
to popular accounts, sociably bathing with them in the sea; permitting
them to rub their noses against their priestly thighs; playfully
mouthing their hands, with all their tiers of teeth.

At the ordination of a Pontiff, the ceremony was not deemed complete,
until embarking in his barge, he was saluted High Priest by three
sharks drawing near; with teeth turned up, swimming beside his canoe.

These monsters were deified in Maramma; had altars there; it was
deemed worse than homicide to kill one. "And what if they destroy
human life?" say the Islanders, "are they not sacred?"