autioned Wixill.
"You might not be able to unwrap, and to touch one of them is almost
unthinkable. Speaking of wrapping, you know that they are putting on the
finals of the contact work in the star this evening. Let's watch them."

They slid to the floor and wriggled away in perfect "step"--undulating
along in such nice synchronism that their adjacent sides, only a few
inches apart, formed two waving rigidly parallel lines. Deep in the
lower part of the fortress they entered a large assembly room, provided
with a raised platform in the center and having hundreds of short,
upright posts in lieu of chairs; most of which were already taken by
spectators. The two officers curled their tails comfortably around two
of the vacant pillars, elevated their heads to a convenient level of
sight and directed each an eye or two upon the stage. This was, of
course, heptagonal. Its sides, like those of the mighty flying forts
themselves, were not straight, but angled inward sufficiently to make
the platform a seven-pointed star. The edge was outlined by a low rail,
and bulwark and floor were padded with thick layers of a hard but smooth
and yielding fabric.

* * * * *

In this star-shaped ring two young Vorkuls were contending for the
championship of the fleet in a contest that seemed to combine most of
the features of wrestling, boxing, and bar-room brawling, with no holds
barred. Four hands of each of the creatures held heavy leather billies,
and could be used only in striking with those weapons, the remaining
hands being left free to employ as the owner saw fit. Since the sport
was not intended to be lethal, however, the eyes and other highly
vulnerable parts were protected by metal masks, and the wing ribs
were similarly guarded by leathern shields. The guiding fins, being
comparatively small and extremely tough, required no protection.

"We're just in time," Kromodeor whistled. "The main bout is nicely on.
See anyone from the flagship? I might stake a couple of korpels that
Sintris will paint the symbol upon his wing."

"Most of their men seem to be across the star," Wixill replied, and both
beings fell silent, absorbed in the struggle going on in the ring.

It was a contest well worth watching. Wing crashed against mighty wing
and the lithe, hard bodies snapped and curled this way and that, almost
faster than the eye could follow, in quest of advantageous holds. Above
the shrieking wails of th