ally. "I think we had better revise the theory--unless you want
me to believe the teeth on that thing are used for shredding lettuce."

"No," Gallifa said. "It's a meat eater, all right. Either the cruiser
made a mistake, or--and this is more likely--the beast has wandered in
from a more natural habitat. You know, I believe it's after one of the
gnomes."

MacFarland left the screen and swung the automatic rifle to bear on the
beast. He carefully adjusted the telescopic sights, centering the hair
lines on the target. There was a quiet whir and a slight shifting of the
rifle as the computer device allowed for correct elevation and windage.

"I have the critter dead center," MacFarland said eagerly.

"Don't shoot," Gallifa suddenly warned. "There is something awfully
peculiar about this. I'm positive our friend sees that fellow, but he
doesn't seem the least bit worried. Keep the rifle trained, but let's
watch a little longer. I'm interested in this."

The gnome did seem aware that he was being stalked. Every so often he
stopped to peer over his shoulder where his adversary was in plain view.
Then he calmly went on feeding. He made no effort to flee or find
concealment.

Gallifa watched in puzzlement. Was the creature really so stupid? It
wasn't logical. It just didn't make sense. How had the race survived?

The pursuer tentatively crawled a few feet and stopped, its eyes
gleaming. It crawled a few more. It seemed to be appraising the distance
to be traversed. All at once it gathered its powerful legs snugly under
it. A quick rush and a spring ...

The gnome suddenly stopped feeding and curled into a tight ball. The
charging beast seemed to be trying to change its course in mid-leap. It
landed almost on top of its prey, but it didn't strike. Instead, it
whirled, biting its shoulder and clawing spasmodically. Then it charged
headlong across the slope and disappeared in a cloud of dust.

Back at the truck, Gallifa turned to MacFarland. "Did you shoot it?" he
asked with wide eyes.

MacFarland shook his head.

"The gnome just curled up like a porcupine," Gallifa said, frowning.
"And that's certainly no protection ... I wouldn't think. It doesn't
have spines or anything."

"You're right," MacFarland answered. "I think the meat eater had a fit,
and it's a damn good thing for your friend Mr. Gnome, too!"

"You may be right," Gallifa speculated slowly. "Only--You know, it's a
far-fetched thought, but maybe the gnome