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Others fell with the tarns to earth, the nets half cut to pieces. I saw another net fall gracefully, like a broad, circular, open veil, on a bird starting to climb from the plaza, and the bird fluttered back to the earth, screaming, protesting, rolling in the dust, the rider caught in the safety straps, and then the helmeted head was twisted about, and the body was inert, a raglike, meaningless object in the saddle. I saw one of our fellows, I think Tajima, take a mounting tarnsman, climbing to the saddle, with the temwood lance. The tarnsman was carried a dozen yards before he slipped from the lance, to the stirred dust below. Others of my fellows were soaring downward, lance in hand, hunting targets. Above, in the sky, suddenly, the gigantic, tumbling, fighting knot of birds and men broke, like a burst of alarmed jards, startled in their feeding, and hundreds fled. I saw tens and twenties, and prides, streaking after them. - (Swordsmen of Gor, Chapter )