But he mastered the impulse with his sense of loyalty to the blind man who had fed him and caressed him for a long six months.
Back with Nalasu, sitting between his knees, he made his report.

It was impossible for him to count more than five, although he knew the fleeing population numbered many times more than five.

So he signified five men, and more; five women, and more five children, and more; five babies, and more; five dogs, and more--even of pigs did he announce five and more.
Nalasu's ears told him that it was many, many times more, and he asked for names.

Jerry know the names of Bashti, of Agno, and of Lamai, and Lumai.

He did not pronounce them with the slightest of resemblance to their customary soundings, but pronounced them in the whiff-whuff of shorthand speech that Nalasu had taught him.
Nalasu named over many other names that Jerry knew by ear but could not himself evoke in sound, and he answered yes to most of them by simultaneously nodding his head and advancing his right paw.