The team had purposely chosen to approach from a small rise, where they could look down on the clearing without being seen. And when they reached the incline that led up to the ridge, one of the armed patrol robots who had been in the lead took a look over the ridge and then scuttled back to Dodeth. "They're there, sir."
"What are they doing?" Dodeth asked, scarcely daring to believe.
"Feeding, I believe, sir. They aren't cutting down any trees now; they're just sitting on one of the logs, feeding themselves with their handling limbs."
"How many are there?"
"Twenty, sir."
"I'll take a look." He scrambled up the ridge and peeked over.
And there they were, less than a quarter of a mile away.
Dazedly, Dodeth took a pair of field glasses from Ardan and focused them on the group.
Oh, they were real, all right. No doubt of that. None whatever. Mechanically, he counted them. Twenty. Most of them were feeding, but four of them seemed to be standing a little apart from the others, watching the forest, acting as lookouts.
Typical herd action, Dodeth thought.