The language of these people, according to our notions, scarcely deserves to be called articulate.

Captain Cook has compared it to a man clearing his throat, but certainly no European ever cleared his throat with so many hoarse, guttural, and clicking sounds.
They are excellent mimics: as often as we coughed or yawned, or made any odd motion, they immediately imitated us.

Some of our party began to squint and look awry; but one of the young Fuegians (whose whole face was painted black, excepting a white band across his eyes) succeeded in making far more hideous grimaces.

They could repeat with perfect correctness each word in any sentence we addressed them, and they remembered such words for some time.

Yet we Europeans all know how difficult it is to distinguish apart the sounds in a foreign language.