"It's Al-fin," Saxton said. "I wonder why he's in such a hurry."
"He's carrying something under his arm," Wallace commented.
They waited while the native puffed his way up the bank of the small plateau on which the spaceship rested. When he reached them he stood for a moment fighting to regain his breath. It was evident that he had run long and hard.
Pushing his package under one arm, Al-fin raised the other and pointed at the sky. Bringing his arm around in a wide half-circle, he made a sound with his lips like an Earth bumblebee. When he reached the end of the half-circle he held a finger out in a long point. He ended the performance by holding his hand out toward the spaceship and making a scooping motion—as though he were throwing it into the air. Three times he repeated the maneuver.
Wallace watched him in puzzled silence. At the end of the third repetition his eyes widened with slowly dawning understanding. He ran for the portal of the ship. "I'll be right back," he tossed over his shoulder.
Inside he glanced quickly at the s-tracer. Its needles indicated that the bloodhound was directly across the planet from them!
He dashed back to the open portal. "Inside! Quick!" he called to Saxton.
Saxton wasted not a minute in obeying. As he pushed past Wallace, Al-fin came to the portal of the ship. He extended the parcel he had been carrying under his arm to Wallace. "Meat," he said. "Bye."
"Thanks," Wallace answered, taking the gift. "Thanks—for everything." He closed the portal quickly.