Jarl Gare heard the rattle of the old shells, other rustling motions behind him as he waited. What test was this the Chameleon men were planning?
Finally, the hands dropped from his eyes. He turned around. The oldster was pointing at a huge pile of the oyster shells.
A picture was in Jarl Gare's mind again. So they wanted him to find the shell? That was a fine test! All the shells were gray, and the pile to which the elder pointed was approximately twenty feet high. How could he find one gray shell among so many other gray ones?
He looked up and saw Waltk grinning at him, the stumps of his arms folded.
"How can I find it?" he asked Waltk. "One gray one among so many others?"
"Gray?" asked Waltk. "It is not gray. It sticks out of that pile like a torch. The shell is smeared with red."
"Red?" asked Jarl Gare curiously. "Red? I see no red."
"That's right," Waltk said, and there was laughter in his voice. "You're color-blind, Earthman. I knew it when you first told me the vegetation was gray—that the pearls were gray. The Chameleon men knew it, too. You said they almost could read your mind."
Waltk threw back his head and roared with laughter.