e Jrann-Pttt didn't mean for him to drown. He was just so upset by
your fainting that he didn't think...."

"Not Jrann-Pttt's fault, of course," Miss Anspacher said.

"After all, we can't expect them to love animals as we do. But Algol was
a very good sort of cat...."

"Keep quiet, all of you!" Jrann-Pttt shouted. "I have never known any
species to use any method of communication so much in order to
communicate so little. Don't you understand? I would not have assumed
the cat was with one of you, if I had not subconsciously sensed his
thought-stream all along. He must be nearby."

Everyone was still, while Jrann-Pttt probed the dense underbrush that
blocked their view on both sides. "Over here," he announced, and led the
way through the thick screen of interlaced bushes and vines on the left.

About ten meters farther on, the ground sloped up sharply to form a
ridge rising a meter and a half above the rest of the terrain. The water
had not reached its blunted top, and on this fairly level strip of
ground, perhaps three meters wide, Algol had been paralleling their path
in dry-pawed comfort.

"Scientists!" Louisa Bernardi almost spat. "Professors! We could have
been walking on that, too. But did anybody think to look for dry
ground? No! It was wet in one place, so it would be wet in another. Oh,
Algol--" she reached over to embrace the cat--"you're smarter than any
so-called intelligent life-forms."

He indignantly straightened a whisker she had crumpled.

* * * * *

"Look," Mortland exclaimed in delight as they attained the top of the
ridge, "here are some dryish twigs! Don't suppose the trees want them,
since they've let them fall. If I can get a fire going, we could boil
some swamp water and make tea. Nasty thought, but it's better than no
tea at all. And how long can one go on living without tea?"

"We'll need some food before long, too," Professor Bernardi observed,
putting his briefcase down on a fallen log. "The usual procedure, I
believe, would be for us to draw straws to see which gets
eaten--although there isn't any hurry."

"I'm glad then that we'll be able to have a fire," Mortland said, busily
collecting twigs. "I should hate to have to eat you raw, Carl."

_Mr. Pitt and his little friend are delightful creatures_, Mrs. Bernardi
thought. _So intelligent and so well behaved. But eating them wouldn't
really be cannibalism. They aren't people._

_That premise works