The newcomer did not press the attack—though she still held the spider extended before her. She gaped at the two Yilanè with obvious fear. Then turned and fled.

“You saw her,” Enge said, more statement than question.

“I saw. Physically identical to us in most ways. Opposed thumbs grasping the insect. Shorter in height, stockier, light green in coloring becoming darker on the back and along the crest.”

“Admiration at observation. I saw simply a figure.”

“Scientific training of course. Now consider! This is wonderful, remarkable, a truly important discovery. For social historians as well as biologists.”

Enge was keeping one eye on the jungle—she wanted no repeats of the unexpected attack—and was listening to Ambalasi with her other eye. She signed ignorance and query. Ambalasi was exuberant.

“Biology of course for all the obvious reasons. But that spider—do you not instantly think of the wall of history? No, you wouldn’t. Listen and be guided. You must recall the shells of lobsters, placed there to mark the dawn of our existence when Yilanè were supposed to have brandished them as weapons in defense of the males. Now we have proof that the theory is indeed fact. Wonderful!”

“But—I saw no lobster . . .”

“Creature-of-ignorance! It is the similarity, the action that I am talking about. In the sea brandishing a clawed lobster for defense is what would have been done. On land, as we have seen, a poisonous insect serves the same function.”

“Information understood. But we must leave, come back with others, this is a most dangerous place to be. Threats of death by poison.”

“Nonsense. She was just threatening us, a defense reaction since she did not press the attack home. Did you not see the confusion in her movements? We are her kind—yet not her kind. Uncertainty of threat, then retreat. I must consider the way to continue this contact without alarming them more.”

“Ambalasi, I cannot order you to return—but I can implore you. We can then come back here with help . . .”

“Negative. The more of us that there are the more frightened they will be. We have been warned—but not attacked. That is the situation at the present moment, and I do not want it changed. I shall remain here. You will go into the river and catch a fish.”

Enge could only communicate doubt and confusion.

“Think,” Ambalasi commanded. “You pride yourself on your powers of rationality. The feeding ceremony, we still use it on important occasions, it must surely be as old as social custom. What is more sisterly than an offer of food? A sharing of sustenance and existence. A fish is now needed.”

The old scientist irascibly rejected all arguments and communication, simply settled back comfortably onto her tail with a last imperative fish! and stared at the forest, her limbs shaped into welcome and warmth. Enge had no choice but to turn and walk into the river, diving beneath the surface.