It can be easily imagined then how little friction of the body there was during sleep; indeed, they never moved whilst resting, for there was no need of relieving the tension of any part. I enjoyed still more another kind of rest they had; it was half chair, half bed, and consisted of an incline of the softest netting made out of their usual metal and in such a way that the body could not collapse when loosed in sleep. Even pleasanter was the swing-sleep; here a huge magnet kept the supple incline gently swaying whilst at the same time it drew the blood from the head. The float-rest was as pleasing; in this the head rested on a floating pillow whilst two air-cushions stretched along one side of the body and supported it on a network held between them. But the most complete of all rests was that in which the Limanorans were supported in the air by a cloud of sweet-scented and wholesome gas blown from innumerable jets with steady power; electric fences kept it from spreading into the atmosphere around. I never reached that power of reducing myself in weight so that I could enjoy this rest. It needed fine skill of poise to climb to this bed and remain there, and I was ever afraid of falling. The same physical incapacity prevented me from reaching the most graceful and soothing of all their combinations of exercise and repose. This was the wing-rest. I had often seen the albatross, as it followed in the wake of our yacht, swoop down and float up the curves of the wind without apparent effort, its broad wings motionless but for occasional adaptation, like sails, to the changes in the strength or direction of the breeze. I had never expected to see human beings master this bird-power over the air; but it became the commonest sight in the breezes of the dawn and the sunset to see old and young of both sexes in Limanora fasten great wings to their arms and feet, and, charging their small wing-engines with new stores of energy, sail up underneath the chameleon clouds, and float hither and thither like spirits of the storm. This was part of their night’s rest and their morning’s exercise; and they used to descend from it with heightened colour in their cheeks and the look of profound repose in their eyes. The long training they had had from youth in the management of their wings and in gauging the force and current of the winds had made their skill and knowledge habitual, if not instinctive. They could shut their eyes and rest their intelligence as they floated up and down the levels of the breeze; their wings seemed to be at peace. I can find no analogy in my own experience for their delight in the swift-curving movement but my youthful enjoyment of skating before the wind for miles over clear ice. It was a gladness merely to watch them sport amid the rays of the growing or lessening sun. Often would they time their movements to some rhythm, and flash through intricate evolutions like rooks in the evening air.