arn if it were
suitable for habitation by his fellow beings back home. Their world
was about ended and they had to move or die.

He was being discomfited, however, in his initial adjustment. His
first stop in the new world--unfortunately, not only for his dignity,
but for his equilibrium--had been in the mind of a cat.

* * * * *

It was his own fault, really. He and the others had decided that his
first in a series of temporary habitations should be in one of the
lower order of animals. It was a matter of precaution--the mind would
be easy to control, if it came to a contest. Also, there would be less
chance of running into a mind-screen and being trapped or destroyed.

The cat had no mind-screen, of course; some might even have argued
that she didn't have a mind, especially the human couple she lived
with. But whatever she did have was actively at work, feeling the
solid tree-branch under her claws and the leaves against which her
tail switched and seeing the half-grown chickens below.

The chickens were scratching in the forbidden vegetable garden. The
cat, the runt of her litter and thus named Midge, often had been
chased out of the garden herself, but it was no sense of justice which
now set her little gray behind to wriggling in preparation for her
leap. It was mischief, pure and simple, which motivated her.

Midge leaped, and the visitor, who had made the journey between
dimensions without losing consciousness, blacked out.

When he revived, he was being rocketed along in an up-and-down and at
the same time side-ward series of motions which got him all giddy.
With an effort he oriented himself so that the cat's vision became
his, and he watched in distaste as the chickens scurried, scrawny
wings lifted and beaks achirp, this way and that to escape the
monstrous cat.

The cat never touched the chickens; she was content to chase them.
When she had divided the flock in half, six in the pea patch and six
under the porch, she lay down in the shade of the front steps and
reflectively licked a paw.

The spy got the impression of reflection, but he was baffledly unable
to figure out what the cat was reflecting on. Midge in turn licked a
paw, rolled in the dust, arched her back against the warm stone of the
steps and snapped cautiously at a low-flying wasp. She was a contented
cat. The impression of contentment came through very well.

The dimension traveler got only one other im