“Chameleon!” Ali went down on one knee the better to view the grisly feast now in progress.  “Watch out!” he added sharply as Dane came to join him.

One of the thin upper limbs lay where Queex had discarded it.  And from the needle tip was oozing some colorless drops of fluid.  Poison?

Dane looked around for something which he could use to pick up the still jerking appendage.  But before he could find anything Queex had appropriated it.  And in the end they had to allow the Hoobat its victim in its entirety.  But once Queex had consumed its prey it lapsed into its usual hunched immobility.  Dane went for the cage and working gingerly he and Ali got the creature back in captivity.  But all the evidence now left were some smears on the floor of the hydro, smears which Ali blotted up for future research in the lab.

An hour later the four who now comprised the crew of the Queen gathered in the mess for a conference.  Queex was in its cage on the table before them, asleep after all its untoward activity.

“There must be more than just one,” Weeks said.  “But how are we going to hunt them down?  With Sinbad?”

Dane shook his head.  Once the Hoobat had been caged and the more prominent evidence of the battle scraped from the floor, he had brought the cat into the hydro and forced him to sniff at the site of the engagement.  The result was that Sinbad had gone raving mad and Dane’s hands were now covered with claw tears which ran viciously deep.  It was plain that the ship’s cat was having none of the intruders, alive or dead.  He had fled to Dane’s cabin where he had taken refuge on the bunk and snarled wild eyed when anyone looked in from the corridor.

“Queex has to do it,” Rip said.  “But will it hunt unless it is hungry?”

He surveyed the now comatose creature skeptically.  They had never seen the Captain’s pet eat anything except some pellets which Jellico kept in his desk, and they were aware that the intervals between such feedings were quite lengthy.  If they had to wait the usual time for Queex to feel hunger pangs once more, they might have to wait a long time.

“We should catch one alive,” Ali remarked thoughtfully.  “If we could get Queex to fiddle it out to where we could net it—­”

Weeks nodded eagerly.  “A small net like those the Salariki use.  Drop it over the thing—­”

While Queex still drowsed in its cage, Weeks went to work with fine cord.  Holding the color changing abilities of the enemy in mind they could not tell how many of the creatures might be roaming the ship.  It could only be proved where they weren’t by where Sinbad would consent to stay.  So they made plans which included both the cat and the Hoobat.

Sinbad, much against his will, was buckled into an improvised harness by which he could be controlled without the handler losing too much valuable skin.