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closed. A spear fashioned from sharpened wood lay nearby where the slelve had dropped it. Ehomba picked it up. Suitable for carrying by a flying creature with limited lift capability, it was made of a much lighter wood than the monkeys favored. But the tip was as sharp as a sewing needle.
    Reaching down, he picked up the dead body in one hand. It weighed surprisingly little, much less than a monkey of comparable size. Much slimmer build, he saw, and bones that might be partially hollow. But the mouth was filled with needlelike teeth that were as sharp as the tip of the wooden spear, and the pointed nails on hands and feet hooked downward for grabbing and holding on.
    “What do you think?” Behind Gomo, a clutch of males crowded close to listen. Several were bleeding from nasty bites and scratches. One had a heavy bark bandage on his upper arm where a spear had penetrated the lean flesh.
    Ehomba found himself staring across the river in the direction of the trees where the invaders had disappeared. Tilting back his head slightly, he studied the sky. Even though they had no idea what he was doing, the assembled males copied his every move. Perhaps they thought imitation would bring understanding. Monkey see, monkey comprehend, he mused.
    “You must have some relief from these depredations or you would have been forced to leave this country by now. Do the slelves only attack when the moon is sleeping?”
    Gomo nodded slowly. “Mostly, though, they will sometimes come when there is as little as a sliver showing. It depends”—he choked back emotion—“on how greedy they are feeling.”
    “Needy and greedy,” added another member of the troop. Around him, his companions gave voice to their fury and frustration.
    “I see.” The man in their midst turned from the river to gaze down at them. “Then they will come again tomorrow night.”
    “In all probability.” Gomo unloaded a vicious kick on the limp body of the dead slelve. “It is the time of the month that suits them.”
    “Then we must make ready. We will need some things.”
    “You
do
have an idea.” The troop leader’s eyes shone with eagerness.
    Ehomba nodded. “I think so. It cannot hurt to try it. If nothing else, it will surprise them.”
    Gomo put a long-fingered hand on the herdsman’s arm. “Tell us what to do.”

 
    IV
    A FTER SEEING TO THE SETTING OF A NIGHT WATCH , G OMO AND the other members of the troop retired to an uneasy sleep, leaving Ehomba to contemplate his plan in silence. If it worked, it might well free the troop from the depredations of the slelves forever. If not, he would try something else. Though he was dismayed at the delay in his journey, he had given his word that he would try to help. And he had told Gomo the truth in one other matter.
    He didn’t much care for a people who stole the children of others.
    The following morning the monkeys responded to his directions with an alacrity that bordered on the hyperkinetic, rushing to and fro in response to instructions almost before he could finish explaining what he wanted them to do. As the intent behind his directives became clear, Gomo began to smile more and more frequently.
    “I think I understand what you have in mind, man. You intend to make the slelves easier to see. So that we can make better use of our bows and arrows?”
    “No.” As he spoke, Ehomba watched the monkeys rushing to carry out his instructions. “That is not my idea at all.”
    The troop leader, who thought he had figured it all out, looked momentarily crestfallen. “Then I have to confess that I don’t understand.”
    “You will.” Ehomba raised his voice to a pair of peripatetic young males. “No, not there! Higher up! Yes, that’s better.” He returned his attention to Gomo. “That is, you will if it works.”
    His refusal to explain further left the troop leader pensive, but willing to wait.
    Although it hardly seemed possible, the new night brought a darkness even deeper than that of