Bradley had noted something of the obvious indications of a
gradual evolution from ape to spearman as exemplified by the
several overlapping races of Alalus, club-men and hatchet-men
that formed the connecting links between the two extremes with
which he, had come in contact. He had heard of the Krolus and
the Galus--reputed to be still higher in the plane of evolution--
and now he had indisputable evidence of a race possessing
refinements of civilization eons in advance of the spear-men.
The conjectures awakened by even a momentary consideration of the
possibilities involved became at once as wildly bizarre as the
insane imagings of a drug addict.

As these thoughts flashed through his mind, the Wieroo held out
a pen of bone fixed to a wooden holder and at the same time made
a sign that Bradley was to write upon the paper. It was
difficult to judge from the expressionless features of the Wieroo
what was passing in the creature's mind, but Bradley could not
but feel that the thing cast a supercilious glance upon him as
much as to say, "Of course you do not know how to write, you
poor, low creature; but you can make your mark."

Bradley seized the pen and in a clear, bold hand wrote: "John
Bradley, England." The Wieroo showed evidences of consternation
as it seized the piece of paper and examined the writing with
every mark of incredulity and surprise. Of course it could make
nothing of the strange characters; but it evidently accepted them
as proof that Bradley possessed knowledge of a written language
of his own, for following the Englishman's entry it made a few
characters of its own.