From: miner@kuhub.cc.ukans.edu
Newsgroups: sci.lang
Subject: Metalleus: The Informant
Date: 11 Nov 92 20:35:29 CST
Organization: University of Kansas Academic Computing Services

[I have received inquiries about further notes by my colleague
Metalleus on the Moundsbar language; unfortunately in the late 20th
century there is almost nothing too absurd to be taken seriously,
and fear that there may be even more misunderstandings than I have
been made aware of forbids the issuance of more of the Moundsbar
research results, at least until I can figure out how to prevent
the stuff from showing up as footnotes in _Linguistic Inquiry_.   
-KM]


                          THE INFORMANT

     It was Scott's first field experience, so his professor was
with him to assure nervousness.  The informant, who had one massive
eyebrow extending all the way across his forehead, glared at them
across the table.  Scott pressed the record button and surveyed his
Swadesh list.

     "All right, Mr. Pematesit, how do you say 'one'?"

     The informant raised his eyebrow.

     "'One'?"

     The professor frowned as Scott carefully transcribed "w^n" and
added, in parentheses, "rising intonation."

     "Ah, wait a minute, Scott."  Then to the informant: "Yes, Mr.
Pematesit, how do you say 'one'?"

     The informant stared.

     "One," he slowly replied, with a look of incredulity.

     Scott inserted "or falling" between "rising" and "intonation."

The professor closed his eyes momentarily, as professors will do
sometimes.

     "In your _language_, Mr. Pematesit; how do you say 'one' in
your language?"

     "In Basilewe?  Oh."  Mr. Pematesit looked somewhat more
cooperative.  After a moment: "One what?"

     "Aha," cried Scott, beginning to write.

     "No, no -- I think we need to put the number words in a frame.

Pick a noun from the list."

     "Oh, right.  Okay, how do you say 'one man'?"

     This the informant pondered for some time.  Finally he said, 

     "That doesn't make any sense."

     Scott and the professor looked at each other.

     "Unless you mean a prisoner.  That's _bakje_.  Prisoner.  You
win him, like."

     "Mr. Pematesit," murmured the professor, sensing the situation
slipping out of control, "can you count for us, slowly, from one to
ten?"  Scott readied his pencil, grimly.

     "One," began their antagonist, opening his eyes widely and
extending his thumb.  "Two..."

     "Stop," ordered the professor, seizing Scott's hand in mid-
caret.

     "Professor," said Scott, "I hate to ask this..."

     "Go ahead, my boy.  Do you see what we are learning so far?" 
He laid a consoling hand on his student's shoulder.

     "Yes!" replied Scott, excitedly.  "The Basilewes borrowed
their numbers from the British."

     "No," said the professor firmly.  "We are learning that
intelligence is inequitably distributed across members of all
cultures equally.  Now then, Mr. Pematesit: can you count for us,
in your language, from one to ten?"

     "Yes," responded the informant, now smiling broadly.  Several
moments passed.  Scott poised his pencil.  The professor stared at
the table.  After about thirty more seconds there was a soft click,
followed by a papery whirring sound.

     "Your tape ran out," observed the informant, helpfully.


                    - Metalleus