Honosura began to move a little. He wanted to run more than he had ever wanted anything else before. He was just beginning to get his terror-frozen muscles under control again.
“Help! Help!” he screamed. “Call the sheriff! They are devils!”
“What do you suppose it wants?” Alma asked.
“Probably extending us some sort of greeting,” Babla guessed. “I’ll try talking to it, maybe it can lake us to the local leaders.”
At the sound of Babla’s chatter Honosura stopped screaming and resumed staring.
“Better use interstellar sign talk,” Alma nudged Babla. “I don’t think it understands our language.”
“Oh yes, stupid of me,” Babla flustered. “I’ll try sketches.”
Babla began to draw a triangle in the dusL of the road. His little experiment was cut short, however, by the sound of voices. Looking up, the three saw a herd of the terrestrials thundering down upon them.
“Hold your ground!” Babla ordered. “Don’t show fear under any circumstances!”
