ome.
Without reference to his silent trail companion, he sent the animals
toward another strip of woodland which would give them cover against the
coming of any Throg flyer.

As the hours advanced he began to cast about for a proper night camp.
The woods ought to give them a usable site.

"This is a water wood," Thorvald said, breaking the silence for the
first time since they had left the wrecks.

Shann knew that the other had knowledge, not only of the general
countryside, but of exploring techniques which he himself did not
possess, but to be reminded of that fact was an irritant rather than a
reassurance. Without answering, the younger man bored on to locate the
water promised.

The wolverines found the small lake first and were splashing along its
shore when the Terrans caught up. Thorvald went to work, but to Shann's
surprise he did not unstrap the force-blade ax at his belt. Bending over
a sapling, he pounded away with a stone at the green wood a few inches
above the root line until he was able to break through the slender
trunk. Shann drew his own knife and bent to tackle another treelet when
Thorvald stopped him with an order: "Use a stone on that, the way I
did."

Shann could see no reason for such a laborious process. If Thorvald did
not want to use his ax, that was no reason that Shann could not put his
heavy belt knife to work. He hesitated, ready to set the blade to the
outer bark of the tree.

"Look--" again that impatient edge in the officer's tone, the need for
explanation seeming to come very hard to the other--"sooner or later the
Throgs might just trace us here and find this camp. If so, they are
_not_ going to discover any traces to label us Terran----"

"But who else could we be?" protested Shann. "There is no native race on
Warlock."

Thorvald tossed his improvised stone ax from hand to hand.

"But do the Throgs know that?"

The implications, the possibilities, in that idea struck home to Shann.
Now he began to understand what Thorvald might be planning.

"Now there is going to be a native race." Shann made a statement instead
of a question and saw that the other was watching him with a new
intentness, as if he had at last been recognized as a person instead of
rank and file and very low rank at that--Survey personnel.

"There is going to be a native race," Thorvald affirmed.

Shann resheathed his knife and went to search the pond beach for a
suitable stone to use in its place. Ev