"Salt crust!" Asaki snapped and half arose. "So that is the type of lure they use. There must be a saline mire near here to pull game--" "How many off-worlders?" Jellico broke in. "Three who are Hunters, one who is different." "How different?" questioned Asaki. "He wears upon his body garments which are strange; on his head a round covering such as we see upon the off-worlders of the ships--" "A spaceman!" Asaki laughed harshly. "Why not? They must have some method of transporting their hides." "You can't tell me," Jellico returned, "that anyone is able to set a ship down in this muck. It would simply be buried for all time." "But, Captain, what type of a spaceport does a Free Trader need? Do you not planet your own ship on worlds where there are no waiting cradles, no fitter shops, none of the conveniences such as mark the field Combine maintains on Xecho?" "Of course I do. But one does need a reasonably smooth stretch of territory, open enough so the tail flames won't start a forest fire. You don't ever ride a tail push down in a swamp!" "Which testifies to a trail out of here, fairly well-traveled, and some kind of a usable landing space not too far away," Asaki replied. "And that could very well serve us." "But they know we are here," Tau pointed out. It was Nymani's turn to laugh. "Man from the stars, there is no trail so well-hidden that a Ranger of the preserves cannot nose it out, nor any Hunter--be he a two or five bracelet veteran--who can keep pinned down a determined man of the forest service!" Dane lost interest in the argument at that moment. He was at the edge of their line, the nearest to the swamp, and he had been watching patches of ghostly light flitting above the rank water-weeds. For the past few moments those wisps of faded radiance had been gathering into a growing anthropomorphic blot hanging over the morass several yards away. And the misty outlines were now assuming more concrete shape. He watched, unable to believe in what he was seeing. At first the general outline, non-defined as it was, made him think of a rock ape. But there were no pointed ears above the round skull, no snout on the visage turned in profile toward him. More and more patches of swamp luminescence were drawn to that glowing figure. What balanced there now, as if walking the treacherous surface of the swampland, was no animal. It was a man, or the semblance of one, a small, thin man--a man he had seen once before, on the terrace of Asaki's mountain fortress. The thing stood almost complete, its head cocked in what was an attitude of listening. "Lumbrilo!" Dane identified it, still knowing that the witch doctor could not be standing there listening for them. But, to shake him still farther, the head turned at his cry. Only there were no eyes, no features on the white expanse which should have been a face. And somehow that made the monster more menacing, convincing Dane against sane logic that the thing _was_ spying on them.