The red streak, of course, was K'dunk's 

 tongue, wherein lies the secret of his hunting. 

 It is attached at the outer rim of his mouth, 

 anc ^ folds back in his throat. The inner 

 <^, q^fQ en d ^ broad and soft and sticky, and he 

 snaps it out and back quick as a wink or a 

 lizard. Whatever luckless insect the tongue 

 touches is done with all bothering of our 

 humanity. The sticky tongue snaps him up 

 and back into K'dunk's wide mouth before 

 he has time to spread a wing or even to think 

 what is the matter with him. 



Once I saw him stalk a grasshopper, a big 

 lively green fellow that, in a particularly long 

 jump, had come out of the protecting grass 

 and landed on the brown earth directly in 

 front of where K'dunk was catching the flies 

 that were coming in a steady stream to a 

 bait that I had put out for them. Instantly 

 K'dunk turned his attention from the flies 

 to the larger game. Just as his tongue shot 

 out the grasshopper, growing suspicious, 

 jumped for cover. The soft tongue missed 

 him by a hair, but struck one of his trailing 

 legs and knocked him aside. In an instant 



