"Kind of dismal, isn't it?" Danny ventured.
"But it's ours," Judy said cheerfully. "I think it has a sort of wild charm."
Jane nodded her blonde head. "Our own little planet," she murmured.
The local fauna, passing by on their separate ways, carrying loads of vegetation—presumably for food, since they did not have fire—and bladders full of the scarce water, gazed at the terrestrials without interest, if the Earthmen happened to be in their line of vision; otherwise, the natives paid them no attention.
"Not really humanoid, are they?" Danny asked. "More like goblins, if anything."
His description was a fair one. The Furbishians were skinny, large-headed little bipeds, two to three feet high, and generally of a slate blue or dirty mauve color. They trudged back and forth, carrying food and water and other unidentifiable objects of desire, appearing to be only remotely aware of one another although they seemed to see well enough.
"I think they're cute," Judy said.
Danny took her plump arm in a firm grasp. His brown eyes were worried. "Now, Judy, remember what the captain said."
"They look intelligent too," she persisted. "I think Harnick's just a snob. And a skin-flint. He doesn't want us to give this people the benefits of culture, just because it might cost the Terrestrial Government a little money." And she tossed her smooth dark head.
Big Ned McComb gave a superior smile. "You're being anthropomorphic, kid. Just because they look something like people doesn't mean they are people. For instance, would any race with a minimum of brains act like that?"