They halted on a knoll. Below them lay the farm, with the _vua_ rows
straight and green in the red soil of the fields.
"You can make it from here," the Cytha said. "I am wearing thin. It is
an awful effort to keep on being smart. I want to go back to ignorance
and comfort."
"It was nice knowing you," Duncan told it politely. "And thanks for
sticking with me."
He started down the hill, leaning heavily on the rifle-crutch. Then he
frowned troubledly and turned back.
"Look," he said, "you'll go back to animal again. Then you will
forget. One of these days, you'll see all that nice, tender _vua_
and--"
"Very simple," said the Cytha. "If you find me in the _vua_, just
begin hunting me. With you after me, I will quickly get smart and
remember once again and it will be all right."
"Sure," agreed Duncan. "I guess that will work."
The Cytha watched him go stumping down the hill.
Admirable, it thought. Next time I have a brood, I think I'll raise a
dozen like him.
It turned around and headed for the deeper brush.
It felt intelligence slipping from it, felt the old, uncaring comfort
coming back again. But it glowed with anticipation, seethed with
happiness at the big surprise it had in store for its new-found
friend.
Won't he be happy and surprised when I drop them at his door, it
thought.
Will he be ever pleased!
--CLIFFORD D. SIMAK
* * * * *