The book we had to study was evidently a schoolbook, one in which children learned to read, and we judged from this, and from their frequent consultation as to methods, that they had had no previous experience in the art of teaching foreigners their language, or of learning any other. On the other hand, what they lacked in experience, they made up for in genius. Such subtle understanding, such instant recognition of our difficulties, and readiness to meet them, were a constant surprise to us. Of course, we were willing to meet them halfway. It was wholly to our advantage to be able to understand and speak with them, and as to refusing to teach them--why should we? Later on we did try open rebellion, but only once. That first meal was pleasant enough, each of us quietly studying his companion, Jeff with sincere admiration, Terry with that highly technical look of his, as of a past master--like a lion tamer, a serpent charmer, or some such professional. I myself was intensely interested. It was evident that those sets of five were there to check any outbreak on our part. We had no weapons, and if we did try to do any damage, with a chair, say, why five to one was too many for us, even if they were women; that we had found out to our sorrow. It was not pleasant, having them always around, but we soon got used to it. “It’s better than being physically restrained ourselves,” Jeff philosophically suggested when we were alone. “They’ve given us a room--with no great possibility of escape--and personal liberty--heavily chaperoned. It’s better than we’d have been likely to get in a man-country.” “Man-Country! Do you really believe there are no men here, you innocent? Don’t you know there must be?” demanded Terry. “Ye--es,” Jeff agreed. “Of course--and yet--” “And yet--what! Come, you obdurate sentimentalist--what are you thinking about?” “They may have some peculiar division of labor we’ve never heard of,” I suggested. “The men may live in separate towns, or they may have subdued them--somehow--and keep them shut up. But there must be some.” “That last suggestion of yours is a nice one, Van,” Terry protested. “Same as they’ve got us subdued and shut up! you make me shiver.” “Well, figure it out for yourself, anyway you please. We saw plenty of kids, the first day, and we’ve seen those girls--” “Real girls!” Terry agreed, in immense relief. “Glad you mentioned ’em. I declare, if I thought there was nothing in the country but those grenadiers I’d jump out the window.” “Speaking of windows,” I suggested, “let’s examine ours.” We looked out of all the windows. The blinds opened easily enough, and there were no bars, but the prospect was not reassuring.