Not taking his eyes from the inquisitive dark green humanoid shape that now bobbed effortlessly in front of them, Ehomba endeavored to explain. “Sargassum man. They dwell in the mats of seaweed that float on the surface of all the oceans of the world. I have never seen one before, but they were described to me in stories told by the old people of my village.” Glancing back over a shoulder, he regarded the astonished mate curiously.
“Did you not know, Terious, that the world is home to many kinds of men? There are hu-mans, like you and I, and sargassum men, like this fellow here. There are cavemen, and neander men, treemen and sandmen, and many other kinds of men not often encountered but as comfortable in this world as you or I.”
The mate shook his head slowly. “I have never heard of or seen any of the kinds of men you speak of, sir.”
“Ah well. It may be that living in such a poor, dry land as the Naumkib do, we learn to see things a little more clearly than other peoples. Perhaps it is because there is so little around for us to look at.” Turning back to the leafy humanoid shape that waited patiently in the midst of the mass of weed, Ehomba pursed his lips in an odd way and made sputtering noises. To Terious they sounded like the gurgling a child makes when it blows bubbles underwater. After all that he had witnessed during the last several days, the mate was not at all surprised when the outlandish sea creature responded in kind.
“Good day to you, sargassum man.” Ehomba hoped he was remembering to make the sounds exactly the way his grandfather had instructed him.