According to the universal standards of symmetry, these giants have an animal beauty that is anything but handsome, and they also lack those facial expressions of higher intelligence that come only through generations of cultured thinking.  Their health is quite perfect and they live to a great age.

These Scumites have a language singularly their own.  It is so totally different from any of our conceptions of speech that I can scarcely find words to describe it.

The medium of conversation is the Notched Rod.  It is about twelve feet long with various kinds of notches cut along the two sides.  Such a stick is possessed by every Scumite who expects to hold extended or descriptive conversations.  It is usually held by a skin strung around the neck.  While one of these persons is talking, two or three of his fingers pass from notch to notch along the rod.  These indentures of the rod represent, in their language, certain kinds of sounds and are used to assist the vocal organs in expressing the more intricate combinations of ideas.  Naturally, the listener watches the fingers more than the mouth.

It is amusing to see a Scumite busily engaged in delivering a speech to a few of his fellow creatures.  It would remind you of a person playing a fife or violin without producing any sound.

The children of Scum learn this rod language just the same as our children at first learn to speak our language by observation and practice.

The face of a Scumite does not resemble a human face of our planet.  The mouth and jaws are at right angles to ours and this arrangement seems to be just as convenient to these Scumites as the formation of our mouth is to us.  The nose lies above the mouth, but is relatively much higher, its point coming between the two eyes which are situated more toward the sides of the head.

The startling fact about this world is that at one time in its past history fair intelligence reigned on a few parts of the planet.  These intelligent sections were working their way upward on the measureless incline of progress and had won some distinctions in their sciences, as well as their religious devotions.  These bright spots on the surface of this large orb were surrounded with large black patches of war-like humanity and, between these two extremes, a warfare of subjection or extermination raged without any hope or peace.

The educated Scumites had a few advantages in methods of war, but with all this they were not able to withstand the vast hordes that swept down upon them.  Brute force won the battle and the accumulated light of four thousand years flickered until it was no more.

It was a fatal day for Scum when its mad inhabitants blew out the last of the candles that had promised to give them light.

When this sad and blighting victory was accomplished, these uncivilized tribes rejoiced more hilariously than at one time our Indians rejoiced when celebrating their victories in the wild scalp dances.