"Tweel? I wonder! Perhaps he was thinking of something that couldn't possibly have interested me, and when I started to run, he realized that I saw something different and was warned. Or perhaps the dream-beast can only project a single vision, and Tweel saw what I saw--or nothing. I couldn't ask him. But it's just another proof that his intelligence is equal to ours or greater." "He's daffy, I tell you!" said Harrison. "What makes you think his intellect ranks with the human?" "Plenty of things! First, the pyramid-beast. He hadn't seen one before; he said as much. Yet he recognized it as a dead-alive automaton of silicon." "He could have heard of it," objected Harrison. "He lives around here, you know." "Well how about the language? I couldn't pick up a single idea of his and he learned six or seven words of mine. And do you realize what complex ideas he put over with no more than those six or seven words? The pyramid-monster--the dream-beast! In a single phrase he told me that one was a harmless automaton and the other a deadly hypnotist. What about that?" "Huh!" said the captain. "_Huh_ if you wish! Could you have done it knowing only six words of English? Could you go even further, as Tweel did, and tell me that another creature was of a sort of intelligence so different from ours that understanding was impossible--even more impossible than that between Tweel and me?" "Eh? What was that?" "Later. The point I'm making is that Tweel and his race are worthy of our friendship. Somewhere on Mars--and you'll find I'm right--is a civilization and culture equal to ours, and maybe more than equal. And communication is possible between them and us; Tweel proves that. It may take years of patient trial, for their minds are alien, but less alien than the next minds we encountered--if they _are_ minds." "The next ones? What next ones?" "The people of the mud cities along the canals." Jarvis frowned, then resumed his narrative. "I thought the dream-beast and the silicon-monster were the strangest beings conceivable, but I was wrong. These creatures are still more alien, less understandable than either and far less comprehensible than Tweel, with whom friendship is possible, and even, by patience and concentration, the exchange of ideas. "Well," he continued, "we left the dream-beast dying, dragging itself back into its hole, and we moved toward the canal. There was a carpet of that queer walking-grass scampering out of our way, and when we reached the bank, there was a yellow trickle of water flowing. The mound city I'd noticed from the rocket was a mile or so to the right and I was curious enough to want to take a look at it.