Of course, _fwoonk_ and
_pwink_ and _tweelt_ and _kroosh_ sounded alike to them, but let's
don't be too picky about things.
* * * * *
There were no hot showers that evening; Dave Questell's gang had
trouble with the pump and needed some new parts made up aboard the
ship. They were still working on it the next morning. He had meant
to start teaching Sonny blacksmithing, but during the evening
Lillian and Anna had decided to try teaching Mom a nonphonetic,
ideographic, alphabet, and in the morning they co-opted Sonny to
help. Deprived of his disciple, he strolled over to watch the work
on the pump. About twenty Svants had come in from the fields and
were also watching, from the meadow.
After a while, the job was finished. The petty officer in charge
of the work pushed in the switch, and the pump started, sucking
dry with a harsh racket. The natives twittered in surprise. Then
the water came, and the pump settled down to a steady _thugg-thugg,
thugg-thugg_.
The Svants seemed to like the new sound; they grimaced in pleasure
and moved closer; within forty or fifty feet, they all squatted on
the ground and sat entranced.
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