Now the insect's mouth was fully open - the tongue fully exposed. Steve Burton saw little triangular shaped teeth, bluey-yellow in colour, framing the mouth. The insect had aimed itself accurately. It was now in position and the tongue lifted and caught the drops of juice which still splashed down from Burton's cut in the gooseberry.
The tongue stiffened and was spread like a carpet. The eyes looked into the incision - not downward at the Earth-dwellers. After a pause in which time a puddle of juice had moistened the tongue, it suddenly flicked back into the mouth, and the caterpillar-like creature made a horrible sucking sound. It reminded Steve Burton of a hungry diner noisily lapping up his soup.
Satisfied that the gooseberry was sweet and succulent, the tongue reappeared and the head moved towards the hole in the fruit's fabric. That is, began to move - then stopped.
With a shudder, which he could not disguise from Betty Hamilton, Steve Burton realised the reason why. The insect's eyes were no longer on the fruit. They were looking directly ahead - directly at the Earth-dwellers!
Steve Burton knew it was only a matter of seconds before the creature moved closer to investigate. He knew too that it was only a matter of time before one of them - Betty or he - moved. He tightened his grip on the slippery handle of the clasp-knife, ready to strike when the insect struck.