"Burroughs, Edgar Rice - People That Time Forgot" - читать интересную книгу автора (Burroughs Edgar Rice)

I took in much of this in the few seconds during which we stood
facing each other, and I also observed another salient feature
of her appearance: she was frightfully dirty! Her face and
limbs and garment were streaked with mud and perspiration, and
yet even so, I felt that I had never looked upon so perfect and
beautiful a creature as she. Her figure beggars description,
and equally so, her face. Were I one of these writer-fellows,
I should probably say that her features were Grecian, but being
neither a writer nor a poet I can do her greater justice by
saying that she combined all of the finest lines that one sees
in the typical American girl's face rather than the pronounced
sheeplike physiognomy of the Greek goddess. No, even the dirt
couldn't hide that fact; she was beautiful beyond compare.

As we stood looking at each other, a slow smile came to her
face, parting her symmetrical lips and disclosing a row of
strong white teeth.

"Galu?" she asked with rising inflection.

And remembering that I read in Bowen's manuscript that Galu
seemed to indicate a higher type of man, I answered by pointing
to myself and repeating the word. Then she started off on a
regular catechism, if I could judge by her inflection, for I
certainly understood no word of what she said. All the time
the girl kept glancing toward the forest, and at last she
touched my arm and pointed in that direction.

Turning, I saw a hairy figure of a manlike thing standing
watching us, and presently another and another emerged from the
jungle and joined the leader until there must have been at
least twenty of them. They were entirely naked. Their bodies
were covered with hair, and though they stood upon their feet
without touching their hands to the ground, they had a very
ape-like appearance, since they stooped forward and had very
long arms and quite apish features. They were not pretty to
look upon with their close-set eyes, flat noses, long upper
lips and protruding yellow fangs.

"Alus!" said the girl.

I had reread Bowen's adventures so often that I knew them
almost by heart, and so now I knew that I was looking upon the
last remnant of that ancient man-race--the Alus of a forgotten
period--the speechless man of antiquity.

"Kazor!" cried the girl, and at the same moment the Alus
came jabbering toward us. They made strange growling, barking
noises, as with much baring of fangs they advanced upon us.
They were armed only with nature's weapons--powerful muscles