Short stories; United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
A most extraordinary conjecture occurred to me. Could it be that these
strange people were dumb? Such a freak of nature as an entire race thus
afflicted had never indeed been heard of, but who could say what wonders
the unexplored vasts of the great Southern Ocean might thus far have
hid from human ken? Now, among the scraps of useless information which
lumbered my mind was an acquaintance with the deaf-and-dumb alphabet,
and forthwith I began to spell out with my fingers some of the phrases I
had already uttered to so little effect. My resort to the sign language
overcame the last remnant of gravity in the already profusely smiling
group. The small boys now rolled on the ground in convulsions of mirth,
while the grave and reverend seniors, who had hitherto kept them in
check, were fain momentarily to avert their faces, and I could see their
bodies shaking with laughter. The greatest clown in the world never
received a more flattering tribute to his powers to amuse than had been
called forth by mine to make myself understood. Naturally, however, I
was not flattered, but on the contrary entirely discomfited. Angry I
could not well be, for the deprecating manner in which all, excepting of
course the boys, yielded to their perception of the ridiculous, and the
distress they showed at their failure in self-control, made me seem the
aggressor. It was as if they were very sorry for me, and ready to put
themselves wholly at my service, if I would only refrain from reducing
them to a state of disability by being so exquisitely absurd. Certainly
this evidently amiable race had a very embarrassing way of receiving
strangers.
Just at this moment, when my bewilderment was fast verging on
exasperation, relief came. The circle opened, and a little elderly
man, who had evidently come in haste, confronted me, and, bowing very
politely, addressed me in English. His voice was the most pitiable
abortion of a voice I had ever heard. While having all the defects in
articulation of a child's who is just beginning to talk, it was not
even a child's in strength of tone, being in fact a mere alternation of
squeaks and whispers inaudible a rod away. With some difficulty I was,
however, able to follow him pretty nearly.
"As the official interpreter," he said, "I extend you a cordial welcome
to these islands. I was sent for as soon as you were discovered, but
being at some distance, I was unable to arrive until this moment. I
regret this, as my presence would have saved you embarrassment.
My countrymen desire me to intercede with you to pardon the wholly
involuntary and uncontrollable mirth provoked by your attempts to
communicate with them. You see, they understood you perfectly well, but
could not answer you."
"Merciful heavens!" I exclaimed, horrified to find my surmise correct;
"can it be that they are all thus afflicted? Is it possible that you are
the only man among them who has the power of speech?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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