He held the panting dog firmly and drew his boat knife. He had operated on the dog for snake bite in Central America, and in the Adirondacks he had held him down and pulled porcupine quills out of his mouth with a pair of pliers. The dog always knew he was being helped. He never struggled. This time, the dog bit. "Oro!" Drake grabbed the dog at the jaw hinge with his free hand. He brought pressure to bear, paralyzing the muscles, forcing the dog's jaws open. He pulled his hand out and flung the dog away. Oro rolled to his feet and advanced on him again. "Stand!" Drake shouted. The dog kept coming, edging around to get between the ocean and the man. Turning, Drake saw the bug emerge from the jungle and creep toward him. His dog had circled around and was trying to drive him toward the bug. Drake didn't know what was going on, and he decided he'd better not stay to find out. He picked up his knife and threw it at the bug. He missed. The bug was almost within jumping distance. Drake ran toward the ocean. When Oro tried to intercept him, he kicked the dog out of the way and plunged into the water. He began to swim around the island to the camp, hoping he'd make it before the sharks got him. III At the camp, rifles and revolvers were hastily wiped clean of cosmoline and passed around. Binoculars were taken out and adjusted. Cartridges were divided up, and the supply of knives, machetes and hatchets quickly disappeared. The expedition's two walkie-talkies were unpacked, and the men prepared to move out in search of Drake. Then they saw him, swimming vigorously around the edge of the island. He waded ashore, tired but uninjured. He and the others put their information together and reached some unhappy conclusions. "Do you mean to say," Cable demanded, "that a _bug_ is doing all this?" "It looks that way," Sorensen said. "We have to assume that it's able to exercise some kind of thought control. Maybe hypnotic or telepathic." "It has to sting first," Drake said. "That's what it did with Oro." "I just can't imagine a scorpion doing all that," Recetich said. "It's not a scorpion," Drake said. "I saw it close up. It's got a tail like a scorpion, but its head is damn near four times as big, and its body is different. Up close, it doesn't look like anything you ever saw before." "Do you think it's native to this island?" asked Monty Byrnes, a treasure-seeker from Indianapolis. "I doubt it," Drake said. "If it is, why did it leave us and the animals alone for three months?" "That's right," Sorensen said. "All our troubles began just after the schooner came. The schooner must have brought it from somewhere.... Hey!" "What is it?" Drake asked. "Remember that scorpion the skipper tried to squash? It came out of the detector crate. Do you think it could be the same one?" Drake shrugged his shoulders. "Could be. Seems to me our problem right now isn't finding out where it came from. We have to figure out what to do about it."