We examined them curiously.
"Shades of Sauveur!" muttered Terry.

"We're to learn the language!" We were indeed to learn the language, and not only that, but to teach our own.

There were blank books with parallel columns, neatly ruled, evidently prepared for the occasion, and in these, as fast as we learned and wrote down the name of anything, we were urged to write our own name for it by its side.
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.