Avon Fantasy Reader No. 11 — page 66: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

but an unarmed attack on the village. Then if they really could talk—if old Luomo could talk to the simians— The governor's agent hunted up Loaga again and interrogated him about the woman. “Why, of course she can talk to them, master,” said the head-man. “She was gone five years among them and when she came back she could not speak one word of the Baloonga language, so of course she spoke the wood-men language.” “Oh, its that what you base it on!” cried Mogglesby, relieved. “She had forgot her own language, so she must know the gorilla language?” “Master, 2 woman must know some language,” ejaculated the head-man, mildly astonished that his logic did not convince the white man. But the very pleasure with which Mogglesby pounced upon and discarded this negative proof finally disturbed the Englishman, Why was he so upset at the evidence of a planned attack and a military sacrifice among the anthro- poids? Why was he so pleased to think they had no language? Why did he so keenly desire to believe them to be dumb, irresponsible beasts? An an- swer, a reply filled with a vague uneasiness, limned itself obscurely in his mind and then faded out before the white man really could catch his own st'!l-born explanation. He did not know why he felt this silent horror and enmity to the anthropoids. That night the doctor came to sleep in Mogglesby’s hut again. The two fell to talking in that complete moral inequality which is assumed on one side and admitted on the other. It was 2 basis from which the dirt could talk to the clouds. “There's not a bit of doubt in my mind that the wood-men can talk,” the doctor was saying. ‘They are bound to talk to plan what they did to- day.” “They may have used gestures,” objected Mogglesby in weak defense. “What difference would that make—talking with the hands instead of the tongue?” And staring into the flame of the coconut oil lamp, Mogglesby’s plan sud- denly leaped in to consciousness, ‘Look here, Doctor,” he said slowly. “If those gorillas can talk and plan, we've got to make peace with them.” +. The little man twisted around in amazement. “What, Governor!” “Listen,” said Mogglesby. “If gorillas can think and plan they are at a point where the human race lingered for hundreds of thousands of years.” The little man scratched his head. “Well, what if they are?” “Suppose the human race gave the gorillas a chance, what sort of folk would they make if they were let alone?” “Why, I don’t know,” said the doctor. “Of course you don’t. You can’t possibly imagine it.” The big man sat staring at the flame of the coconut oil and presently said, “I think we Comicbooks.com