Ronal, almost as though caught in a trance, began to take a slow, cautious step toward the immobile beast before him. And stepped back quickly! For the Hairy One had in an instant grabbed from the ground a heavy, club-like stick! Yet he had not raised it, but merely held it meaningfully, pointed downward. Ronal stood motionless. The Hairy One watched Marla, then Ronal. Then he dropped his club, silently picked up the fruit he had thrown to the ground, and turned. Then he vanished once more into the jungle. * * * * * A day later, for merely a moment before Logan punched the acceleration warning buzzer for take-off and switched on the jet detonators, they saw the Hairy One for the last time. "Look, Krist! Marla! There he is! And by Betelgeuse if he isn't _standing up_!" Even at a mile distance they could discern the erect figure of the mute, enigmatic denizen of this strange, new planet--immobile, watching, but on two feet. "And on those forelegs of his were more hands than feet--and what someday might be a thumb, to oppose his fingers!" Ronal was saying quietly. Marla and Krist knew what was in Ronal's mind. And Marla was glad they were about to blast off. There had been something in the way the beast had watched them, had watched her-- They knew what Ronal was thinking. But it was all they would ever know. They took their places in the acceleration hammocks. Seconds later, with a great, shuddering roar, the gleaming Space-yacht leaped skyward and disappeared into the blue vault of the sky. * * * * * _The Hairy One watched for minutes afterward, then dropped back to all fours and shambled through the jungle. His legs hurt strangely, and his arms--_ _Perhaps he should have accepted their offer and gone with them to their bright, shining world._ _Or, perhaps, taken the woman and started--started what? He could not remember._ _He stumbled awkwardly into the overgrown ruin of shattered masonry and twisted steel wherein he slept, and laid down._ _He felt very tired._