 Why does the Sand God keep the webfoots around?
The sand-thing was powerful, lonely and strange. He touched the pencil-line scar behind his ear where the cylinder was buried, marveling at the power stored there, power to fling him from earth to this fourth planet of the Centaurian system in an instant. A gray, funnel-shaped cloud of dust stood off to his left. Weather control made cyclones and other climatic phenomena on earth practically non-existent. The cloud did not move, though, except to spin on its axis rapidly, emitting a high-pitched, scarcely audible whine, like a high speed motor. Dark clouds capped one peak of the mountains on his left. He was here and Earth was somewhere up there. The sun burned fiercely, although he would have said it was about four o'clock in the afternoon, if this had been Earth. The sun shone obliquely, throwing Stinson's shadow upon the sand. The wind devil also had a shadow, although the sun shone through it and the shadow was faint. He was here to investigate, to determine if this planet was capable of supporting life. He examined the wind devil as closely as he dared, but it was composed only of grains of sand. But then, how could a group of loosely spaced grains of sand possibly have a nervous system? He became so absorbed in doing this that he failed to notice how the wind devil drew closer and closer, but when he inhaled the first grains of sand, the realization of what was happening dawned with a flash of fear. As he stood beside a small creek, a chill wind blew from the northwest. From one angle they were animals, from another birds, from a third they were vaguely humanoid creatures, glowering at him with primitive ferocity. These creatures were not only humanoid, but definitely human, although more slight of build than earth people. But up to now the tube and the chain was the only evidence of an advanced technology, unless the ancient inscriptions in the stone wall of the pool, and the statues lining the wall were evidences. There, at the cavern entrance, the wind devil writhed and undulated in a brilliant harmony of colors. It came from the ceiling, the floor, the walls, the steaming pool. The great, bodiless voice sounded again, but those in the cavern went about their activities. It is impossible to move a physical body from one place to another by a mere thought and a tiny instrument, yet you have done so. These are the undesirables, the incorrigibles, the nonconformists from the sixth planet.
 It amuses the Sand God to watch the webfoots evolution.
 It amuses the Sand God to watch the webfoots evolution.  It amuses the Sand God to play with the webfoots.  The webfoots worship him like a God even though he is not one.  The webfoots fear of the Sand God amuses him.