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The Lost Continent | Edgar Rice Burroughs | |
Chapter 3 |
Page 5 of 7 |
To this end I raised my left hand above my head with the palm toward them as the most natural gesture indicative of peaceful intentions which occurred to me. At the same time I called aloud to them that we were friends, though, from their appearance, there was nothing to indicate that they might understand Pan-American, or ancient English, which are of course practically identical. At my gesture and words they ceased their shouting and came to a halt a few paces from us. Then, in deep tones, one who was in advance of the others and whom I took to be the chief or leader of the party replied in a tongue which while intelligible to us, was so distorted from the English language from which it evidently had sprung, that it was with difficulty that we interpreted it. "Who are you," he asked, "and from what country?" I told him that we were from Pan-America, but he only shook his head and asked where that was. He had never heard of it, or of the Atlantic Ocean which I told him separated his country from mine. "It has been two hundred years," I told him, "since a Pan-American visited England." "England?" he asked. "What is England?" "Why this is a part of England!" I exclaimed. "This is Grubitten," he assured me. "I know nothing about England, and I have lived here all my life." It was not until long after that the derivation of Grubitten occurred to me. Unquestionably it is a corruption of Great Britain, a name formerly given to the large island comprising England, Scotland and Wales. Subsequently we heard it pronounced Grabrittin and Grubritten. |
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The Lost Continent Edgar Rice Burroughs |
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