"That's no meteor!" he muttered. "But look at the knot-heads! If they land that way, they'll spread like a ton of boiling butter and I'll never get away!"
He realized that Polf had scampered back after a few steps downhill, and was now crouched at Guthrie's feet more like an animal than a man. The Skirkh uttered a sound between a snarl and a whimper.
"Get up, Polf!" said Guthrie. "It's a spaceship. I told you what mine was like. Go tell the elders! They will think well of the bearer of such news."
Polf bobbed his thick head and took a step downhill. Then duty halted him.
"Oh, all right; I'll come with you," sighed Guthrie. "Maybe they'll appoint us to lead the search if you tell them there will be other Terrans."
He hoped that there would be other live Terrans. Even more, he hoped that their ship would be in good condition. He was good and tired of Boyd III.
Two days later, about noon, a sound of excited voices approaching roused Guthrie and his shadow, neither of whom had been permitted to join the search. They sat up, where they had been sunning themselves on the roof of their house.
"They're back," exclaimed Guthrie, poking Polf eagerly.
Then, as he caught sight of two taller figures with the search party, he slid down from the roof and started to run as soon as he hit the ground.