When the tour around the ship had been completed, Rogers looked up. "Okay, chief. Ready for the nets."
Far up in the nose appeared a black hole. White climbed out and spread a conical camouflage net over the nose. Then he ducked back into the ship. "Here comes the first strip," said Gordon. "I hope this gimmick works!" A slot opened behind the skirt of the conical net, and a sheet of neolon camouflage unrolled downward. Rogers seized the bundle of stakes at its lower end and had the strip pegged down in a few seconds, with willing but ineffectual help from the inexperienced Stuart.
"All right so far," the scout reported. Another strip came down. Stuart grabbed the stakes, then put them down to rearrange the rifle slung across his back. Suddenly there was a blur of movement and the stakes disappeared around a fin.
Rogers, carrying the rubber mallet, walked up and nudged him. "Come on! Dawn's about to break, laddie. What are you staring at?" His own eyes widened as the bundle of stakes came back and dropped near his feet. He whipped out a flashlight and revealed a pair of "monkey-rats" scurrying away. He laughed and shook his head. "Things around here have a cockeyed way of putting back what they don't want. I suppose these fellers were after metal, like Venus blacksmith lizards."
The two men resumed working, and at length the entire ship was tented. Not long after they had finished, the light was strong enough to show the beady-eyed little monkey-rats sitting nearby, watching curiously. The fearless creatures, as large as cocker spaniels, were an indeterminate red-gray in color, four-legged, and had two six-fingered tentacles where Stuart expected a muzzle. Bright black eyes looked out from under bony ridges. The monkey-rats carried short spears, and seemed to have pouches slung on their backs.
"Too bad we can't feed 'em," murmured the scout. "I bet we can make friends with them. We better explore a little more, though, first." Stuart strolled with him to where a narrow neck of turf led from the clearing out to the prairie. A brook followed this little alley into the woods.
Rogers pointed to the near bank, where a miniature scaffolding of bright orange and blue matchsticks stood a few centimeters high. "Construction plant," said the linguist, remembering a trader's description. Nearby were three mossbacks, looking like turtles with tufts of green on their backs. "Possibly symbiotic," Stuart thought to himself. The creatures dabbled their forelegs in the water and blinked sleepily.
The monkey-rats, following the men, apparently discovered the mossbacks just then; there was a sudden squirrel-like chittering sound as one of them pointed with a tentacle. Immediately two small spears flashed through the early morning light and chunked into one of the mossbacks. The creature squawked once and fell over; its companions looked at it stupidly for a moment, then dove clumsily into the brook. The monkey-rats dashed over to their prey, seized it with their tentacles, and began to hustle it toward the nearby trees.
Without warning, a sky-colored creature like a hawk swooped over them and dropped a rock. One of the monkey-rats was hit in the leg and fell sprawling. The other whistled with rage and hurled an ineffectual spear. The hawk came back a moment later and began to bomb them with more rocks. The injured one was being half-carried by its companion, and both were screaming angrily.