stone worn smooth by long-continued use, the four outer edges
hollowed and polished by the contact of the countless Wieroo
bodies that had leaned against them for how long a period of time
Bradley could not even guess. Everything about the place carried
the impression of hoary age. The carved pedestals were black
with use, the wooden seats were worn hollow, the floor of stone
slabs was polished by the contact of possibly millions of naked
feet and worn away in the aisles between the pedestals so that
the latter rested upon little mounds of stone several inches
above the general level of the floor.

Finally, seeing that no one came to collect, Bradley arose and
started for the doorway. He had covered half the distance when
he heard the voice of mine host calling to him: "Come back,
jaal-lu," screamed the Wieroo; and Bradley did as he was bid.
As he approached the creature which stood now behind a large,
flat-topped pedestal beside the alcove, he saw lying upon the
smooth surface something that almost elicited a gasp of
astonishment from him--a simple, common thing it was, or would
have been almost anywhere in the world but Caspak--a square bit
of paper!

And on it, in a fine hand, written compactly, were many strange
hieroglyphics! These remarkable creatures, then, had a written as
well as a spoken language and besides the art of weaving cloth
possessed that of paper-making. Could it be that such grotesque
beings represented the high culture of the human race within the
boundaries of Caspak? Had natural selection produced during the
countless ages of Caspakian life a winged monstrosity that
represented the earthly pinnacle of man's evolution?