In the days of feverish work that followed, the life that they all could feel was teeming within the hot, moist jungle that surrounded them gave little hint of its presence save for an occasional beast-like scream and the cries of birds. And the nights were quiet save for the sound of warm breezes riffling their way through lush foliage. "But I can feel a thousand eyes upon us for every move we make," Marla said. "It'll be all over in a day or so," Ronal reassured her. "Logan says that we'll be able to blast off without even trying to shift the ship's position. Chances are we won't even set eyes on our hairy friend again, much less any of his tribesmen. Don't worry." But it was the next morning that they saw the Hairy One again. "He's trying to get up into that tree with the fruit on it," Marla said, "but the trunk's too big around for him to climb, and the lowest branch is too high for him to reach." "He seems to be alone," Ronal said. "And he doesn't even seem to know we're still here." "I wonder if he really cares," Ronal said, and began walking slowly toward the clearing's edge. "You aren't going to--" "Got a funny feeling. And I want a closer look. He could get that fruit, if--" "If he could _stand_!" Marla completed. The implications of what Ronal suggested came fully upon her for the first time. Quite evidently, she understood now, the all-fours attitude of the Hairy One was not just for ease of jungle travel. It was a permanent attitude because the beast had not yet attained the ability to stand erect! "I've an idea," Ronal said. He quickened his stride. "But you'd better go back with Krist and Logan. It's possible that--" "I will not! And what danger is there? For nearly a week we've been here, and although we've all felt uneasy, this is the first we've seen him since that first day. There hasn't been even a hint of hostility. What more can he be than just a harmless, stupid beast?" The Hairy One halted his tree-climbing efforts when he saw them, but made no move to either retreat or advance. As before, he stood immobile and watched. Ronal and Marla approached with the palms of their hands opened and outward, hanging limply at their sides. And as they approached, Ronal swept the jungle edge with his eyes, to peer as deeply into its tangled growth as he could. Nothing moved. Within scant yards of the beast, they stopped. The Hairy One was watching Marla. * * * * * Ronal dropped to all fours. And it was a peculiar, silent melodrama that followed then. A highly-cultured man from a well-ordered, civilized galaxy, making a crude attempt to teach a beast to walk, on the face of a planet which, but a few days before, he had never known existed.