him, Bailey."

The doctor's voice was gravelly and weak. "If it hadn't been for the
natives we'd all have died. The venom from the flies paralyzed everyone
the second day after the swarm hit us. The flies were gone the next
morning, but every soul in the colony passed out. Joe and his friends
took care of us, poured tala down our throats and fed us."

"But they were soused," I said.

"Their only defense against the flies. The little black devils left the
natives pretty well alone, and it appears that the tala was responsible.
Could be that the stuff is what neutralized the toxin, too. They must
have poured a gallon of it down me, judging from the empty skins by my
bed. At any rate, they kept us alive until we could get up and feed
ourselves."

"Why did they come into the clearing when they drank the tala?" I asked.

Bailey said, "Joe told us that the day he saw Sue kill the _koodi_ that
was attacking you, he got the idea that he should do something about
them himself. Through his efforts the natives no longer take the little
devils as an inevitable evil. They kill them wherever they find them
now. And when they had to get drunk to save themselves from the flies,
Joe passed the word for them to head for the clearing. The _koodi_
usually avoid the sunlight, but it was late in the afternoon. They came
anyway."

"Phil," I said, "did I see you out there with me, killing the little
bastards?"

He nodded silently.

"You had changed your mind about the natives at that time?"

"I--I suppose so. Don't rub it in, Sam. It's hard enough to live with
the thought of how wrong I was. All I can do now is pray that whatever
failed in our first try failed again. Joe's people have made the human
race look pretty dismal. They have every right to their planet, and if
we are foolish enough to go native, well--at least we have a stronger
survival instinct."

At that point Susan came in carrying Richard. He had the hiccoughs. Sue
kissed me. "Richard just drew his ration of sterile tala from the
clinic. He still has a slight fever. But thanks to Joe and Harmony--"

"Harmony? Who's that?"

"The native girl who helped Joe nurse us. Her name is really
Hah-ah-arm-ig-hin-ih-hee, or something like that. She answers to
Harmony, though."

And she did. Hearing her name the little golden girl came through the
door towing Joe by one hand.

I said, "One of your favorites, Joe?"

He ran a caressing, four-fingered hand over her shoulder.