"At that moment there was a noise in the crowd, and a very old cat stood up. His fur was shot all over with grav-especially about his legs and paws-and his muzzle was snow-white.

" 'You assume the Mantle by right of blood and claw, Prince Ninebirds?' questioned the old cat. 'I do,' answered the great Prince. 'By what right of blood do you claim the Kingship?' queried the old white-whisker. 'By the blood of Fela Skydancer that runs in me, you toothless old Squeaker-friend!' rejoined Ninebirds hotly, and rose from where he lay. All the gathered Folk whispered excitedly as Ninebirds walked to the Vaka'az'-me, the tree-root seat sacred to the Firstborn. Before all the assembled Folk Ninebirds lifted his long tail and sprayed the Vaka'-az'me with his hunt-mark. There was more excited whispering, and the old cat tottered forward.

" 'O Prince, who would be King of Cats,' said the ancient one, 'perhaps by blood you have some claim, but what of claw? Will you fight in single combat for the Mantle?' 'Of course,' said Ninebirds, laughing, 'and who will oppose me?' The crowd goggled, looking about for some mighty challenger who would fight with the massive Prince.

" 'I will,' said the old one simply. All the folk hissed in surprise and arched their backs, but Ninebirds only laughed again. 'Go home, old fellow, and wrestle with beetles,' said he. 'I will not fight with you.'

" 'The King of Cats can be no coward,' said the old cat. At that Ninebirds cried in anger and leaped forward, swinging his huge paw at the old gray-muzzle. But with surprising speed the old one leaped aside and dealt a buffet to the Prince's head that addled his wits for a moment. They began to fight in earnest, and the multitude could scarcely credit the speed and courage of the old cat, who opposed such a great and fierce fighter.