Rogers scowled at the battle. "Looks like he doesn't want to leave his friend," he growled. Suddenly he whipped out a hunting-knife, aimed for an imperceptible split second, and let fly. The hawk was slashed open down the belly from head to tail. It flopped heavily onto the patch of pink grass, snapping with vicious grey teeth in dying hatred. The uninjured monkey-rat ran to retrieve the knife.
The two men went to look at the wounded one and found it dragging a bleeding hind leg. It seemed especially shocking to Stuart, somehow, that the blood was red, although of a more brilliant shade than that of Terrestrial mammals. The creature turned to face the men, waving a spear defensively and shrilling for help. Its companion came charging up with the knife and two spears. The two forms of life eyed each other for a moment.
"Here's your opportunity to make friends with them," urged Gordon over the radio. "They seem accustomed to manlike beings. Maybe they can be of some use to us. Worth trying, anyway."
The scout squatted and made soothing sounds. Stuart backed away a few steps, so as to represent less of a threat, and began taking pictures as unobtrusively as possible.
Rogers studied the situation in a moment, then extended his empty hands, palms up, in response to a whispered suggestion from the semanticist. Both monkey-rats cocked their heads and watched him sharply, murmuring to each other.
Moving slowly as Stuart directed, the scout tore a strip of bandage from his first-aid packet and allowed it to be examined. He reached for one of the wooden spears, needle-tipped with something like obsidian, but it was withdrawn hastily. He broke off a small branch from a nearby bush and tried to splint the broken leg. The creature squealed and snapped at him, but neither monkey-rat threatened him with a weapon. They seemed more curious than afraid.
Nonplussed for a moment, the Earthman whistled softly, thinking. "Give them your other knife," suggested Stuart. The scout drew it out and dropped it hastily before a spear could be launched at him.
Two knives! The creatures examined them with obvious pleasure, testing the blades and inspecting them closely. Again Rogers reached out; this time his touch was tolerated. "Warm-blooded," he said quietly into his microphone. "Feels like two bones in the upper leg." He succeeded in straightening the limb and tying it up. Then he pantomimed carrying the victim and pointed into the woods. The other monkey-rat pushed the injured one toward him and made tentacle motions which evidently meant "yes." He picked up the one with the broken leg, carried it a short distance into the woods, and set it down. The other followed, bristling with knives and spears. Stuart came behind at a discreet distance, observing carefully and making notes. Occasionally he snapped a picture.
The scout poured some water into the palm of his hand and offered it. The injured animal shot out a tubular orange tongue and sucked up the water. The two men were trying to establish further communication when suddenly their earphones crackled.
"You men outside! Stand by the neck of the clearing! There's been some shooting over near those coral rocks, and here comes a native hell-for-leather with three hell-cats after him. Heading for the clearing, I think. Try to catch him ... he seems to be unarmed. We'll get out and hold off the hell-cats from up here!"