“Then — I did see an elininyil?”

“You might very well have. That is a possible conclusion. We must now make observation to see if you were correct. If you did see it — then I believe that this is the most important event since the egg of time cracked. Come!”

Ambalasi waddled down the bank and hurled herself into the river with an excess of scientific fervor. Enge quickly followed, frighteningly aware of possible danger lurking in the muddy waters. The current was slight in the backwater here and Ambalasi quickly reached the channel and started up it. It came only to her waist and she found it easier to walk than to swim.

Enge hurried up, going past the elderly scientist to lead the way. Low branches overhung the stream and the air was thick and humid, filled with biting insects. The flowing water kept them cool enough, but when the channel widened out they plunged beneath the surface to escape the insects. They surfaced, treading water, looking about, unable to communicate other than the most simple concepts until they had climbed out on the grassy bank.

“We are clearly on another island, separated from ours by this side channel of the river. Warm water of a constant temperature, yet shallow enough to keep the larger predators from entering. If — and I accentuate the if — there are Yilanè here this would be a perfect site for the birth-beach. Water protected from the large life forms in the river, plenty of fish for the young to eat. And ready access to the river and the sea when the young have grown and become elininyil.”

“This could be a path about the island,” Enge said, pointing at the ground.

“And it could be an animal track. We will follow it.”

Enge went first, beginning to regret their precipitous venture. They were unarmed — and any sort of creature could be hidden by the jungle.

The track was easy to follow. It swung around the bole of a large tree that had long roots extending into the river, then back to the shore to a sandy beach bordered with soft grass. They shared the same thought instantly; a perfect place for a birth-beach. Something splashed in the water, but when they looked it was gone leaving only a pattern of ripples on the smooth surface.

“I feel that we are being watched,” Enge said.

“Proceed forward.”

The track skirted the beach and entered the thick stand of trees on the far side. They stopped before it, trying to look into the gloom beneath the heavy foliage. Enge made a sharp gesture of unhappiness.

“I think that we have come far enough. We must return to the others. We will come back here when we are better prepared.”

“We must uncover more facts.”

Ambalasi said this firmly, signed knowledge-primacy, walked forward past Enge.

With a screeching cry the creature burst from behind the trees, holding a large spider between her out-thrust thumbs, pushing it into Ambalasi’s face.

Ambalasi fell back before the unexpected attack. Enge jumped in front of her, thumbs extended and snapping with anger, shouting commands.

“Go back! Cease! Error-of-doing!”

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.

There she saw them, a sight to bring happiness to any Yilanè. An immature efenburu gliding through the clear water, scarcely elininyil, the youngest of the young groupings, they were so small, moving in pursuit of a school of silver fish. She watched for a long moment until they saw her, turned with colored signs of fear on their palms. She raised her own palms telling them not to be afraid. But they were, she was too strange, and in an instant they were gone. One of them had been holding a freshly caught fish, had just bitten through its spine, and now she released it in panic as she rushed away. Enge swam forward and retrieved it, returned to shore.

Ambalasi looked at the small fish with doubt. “Speed of fishing produces tiny catch,” she said.

“I didn’t catch it. I surprised an immature efenburu, disturbed their feeding. They were attractive beyond measure.”

“Undoubtedly. The fish will have to do. Remain here while I go forward.”

“You may order, I will not obey. I will walk behind you, then move forward to assist you if there is danger.”

Ambalasi began to speak, realized it would only be a waste of effort, and signed reluctant agreement. “At least five paces behind me. We proceed.”

She held the tiny fish before her and walked slowly along the path, stopping before she entered the grove.

“Fish, tasty, nice, friendship,” she said loudly but pleasantly. Then she settled back slowly on her tail, the fish still held out before her, and repeated her entreaties. Something stirred in the darkness and she did her best to convey warmth and friendship in the simplest manner.

The leaves parted and the stranger came reluctantly out. They examined each other in silence for the moment, Ambalasi with the skill of the scientist. All differences appeared to be superficial. Size, structure, surface coloration. A subspecies at most. With slow movements she bent and placed the fish on the grass, then stood and slowly stepped back.