A Strange Manuscript Found in a Copper Cylinder, James De Mille [best classic romance novels .TXT] 📗

therefore more ferocious than the Iguanodon, and more ready to attack. Its head was like that of a crocodile, its body massive like that of an elephant, yet larger; its tail was small, and it stood high on its legs, so that it could run with great speed. It was not covered with bony armor, but had probably a hide thick enough to serve the purpose of shell or bone. Its teeth were constructed so as to cut with their edges, and the movement of the jaws produced the combined effect of knife and saw, while their inward curve rendered impossible the escape of prey that had once been caught. It probably frequented the river banks, where it fed upon reptiles of smaller size which inhabited the same places.

“More,” continued the doctor, “is too general in his descriptions. He has not a scientific mind, and he gives but few data; yet I can bring before myself very easily all the scenes which he describes, particularly that one in which the Megalosaurus approaches, and he rushes to mount the dinoris so as to escape. I see that river, with its trees and shrubs, all unknown now except in museums⁠—the vegetation of the Coal Period⁠—the Lepidodendron, the Lepidostrobus, the Pecopteris, the Neuropteris, the Lonchopteris, the Odontopteris, the Sphenopteris, the Cyclopteris, the Sigellaria veniformis, the Sphenophyllium, the calamites⁠—”

Melick started to his feet.

“There, there!” he cried, “hold hard, doctor. Talking of calamities, what greater calamity can there be than such a torrent of unknown words? Talk English, doctor, and we shall be able to appreciate you; but to make your jokes, your conundrums, and your brilliant witticisms in a foreign language isn’t fair to us, and does no credit either to your head or your heart.”

The doctor elevated his eyebrows, and took no notice of Melick’s ill-timed levity.

“All these stories of strange animals,” said Oxenden, “may be very interesting, doctor, but I must say that I am far more struck by the account of the people themselves. I wonder whether they are an aboriginal race, or descendants of the same stock from which we came?”

“I should say,” remarked the doctor, confidently, “that they are, beyond a doubt, an aboriginal and autochthonous race.”

“I differ from you altogether,” said Oxenden, calmly.

“Oh,” said the doctor, “there can be no doubt about it. Their complexion, small stature, and peculiar eyes⁠—their love of darkness, their singular characteristics, both physical and moral, all go to show that they can have no connection with the races in our part of the Earth.”

“Their peculiar eyes,” said Oxenden, “are no doubt produced by dwelling in caves for many generations.”

“On the contrary,” said the doctor, “it is their peculiarity of eye that makes them dwell in caves.”

“You are mistaking the cause for the effect, doctor.”

“Not at all; it is you who are making that mistake.”

“It’s the old debate,” said Melick. “As the poet has it:

“ ‘Which was first, the egg or the hen?
Tell me, I pray, ye learned men!’ ”

“There are the eyeless fishes of the great cave of Kentucky,” said Oxenden, “whose eyes have become extinct from living in the dark.”

“No,” cried the doctor; “the fish that have arisen in that lake have never needed eyes, and have never had them.”

Oxenden laughed.

“Well,” said he, “I’ll discuss the question with you on different grounds altogether, and I will show clearly that these men, these bearded men, must belong to a stock that is nearly related to our own, or, at least, that they belong to a race of men with whom we are all very familiar.”

“I should like very much to have you try it,” said the doctor.

“Very well,” said Oxenden. “In the first place, I take their language.”

“Their language!”

“Yes. More has given us very many words in their language. Now he himself says that these words had an Arabic sound. He was slightly acquainted with that language. What will you say if I tell you that these words are still more like Hebrew?”

“Hebrew!” exclaimed the doctor, in amazement.

“Yes, Hebrew,” said Oxenden. “They are all very much like Hebrew words, and the difference is not greater than that which exists between the words of any two languages of the Aryan family.”

“Oh, if you come to philology I’ll throw up the sponge,” said the doctor. “Yet I should like to hear what you have to say on that point.”

“The languages of the Aryan family,” said Oxenden, “have the same general characteristics, and in all of them the differences that exist in their most common words are subject to the action of a regular law. The action of the law is best seen in the changes which take place in the mutes. These changes are indicated in a summary and comprehensive way by means of what is called ‘Grimm’s Law.’ Take Latin and English, for instance. ‘Grimm’s Law’ tells us, among other things, that in Latin and in that part of English which is of Teutonic origin, a large number of words are essentially the same, and differ merely in certain phonetic changes. Take the word ‘father.’ In Latin, as also in Greek, it is ‘pater.’ Now the Latin p in English becomes f; that is, the thin mute becomes the aspirated mute. The same change may be seen in the Latin ‘piscis,’ which in English is ‘fish,’ and the Greek ‘πυρ’ which in English is ‘fire.’ Again, if the Latin or Greek word begins with an aspirate, the English word begins with a medial; thus the Latin f is found responsive to the English b, as in Latin ‘fagus,’ English ‘beech,’ Latin ‘fero,’ English ‘bear.’ Again, if the Latin or Greek has the medial, the English has the thin, as in Latin ‘duo,’ English ‘two,’ Latin ‘genu,’ English ‘knee.’ Now, I find that in many of the words which More mentions this same ‘Grimm’s Law’ will