Almost might it be said that he and the man could talk by the hour, although few and simple were the abstractions they could talk; very little of the immediate concrete past, and scarcely anything of the immediate concrete future, entered into their conversations.

Jerry could no more tell him of Meringe, nor of the _Arangi_, than could he tell him of the great love he had borne Skipper, or of his reason for hating Bashti.

By the same token, Nalasu could not tell Jerry of the blood-feud with the Annos, nor of how he had lost his eyesight.
Practically all their conversation was confined to the instant present, although they could compass a little of the very immediate past.

Nalasu would give Jerry a series of instructions, such as, going on a scout by himself, to go to the nest, then circle about it widely, to continue to the other clearing where were the fruit trees, to cross the jungle to the main path, to proceed down the main path toward the village till he came to the great banyan tree, and then to return along the small path to Nalasu and Nalasu's house.

All of which Jerry would carry out to the letter, and, arrived back, would make report.