He flicked on the outside amplifiers, but the silence was tomb-like. The thunder of his descent must have frightened off all the wild life.
He was conscious of a cumulative weariness like an ache. Experience had taught him the necessity of being fresh before venturing into an alien environment. He entered his landing in the log, switched on the electronic alarm.
"Let 'George' keep watch," he thought. "George's" senses were keener than any human's, and "George" could be depended on!
With a last glance at the dark mass of jungle, he climbed down the ladder to the cabin, flung himself into his bunk.
He was awakened by the wild ringing of the alarm bell.
Jupiter Jones sprang from his bunk. It seemed as if his head had barely touched the pillow; but as he yanked himself through the well to the control blister above, he saw that night had fallen.
The bluish pallor of the riding lights illuminated the instruments. Through the skin of the blister, he could see the black vault of the heavens sparkling with unfamiliar constellations. But that was all. The Mizar, itself, seemed to be lying in a vale of tar-like darkness.
The clamor of the bell never abated. It drowned out any sound that might be coming through the amplifiers.
He shut it off. As the ringing fell silent, he could hear coughing grunts. The hair on the nape of his neck rose like the hackles of a dog and he switched on the floodlights.