Page:Gray Eagle (1927).pdf/66

 muscles of his forelegs and of his sleek haunches bulged and writhed; in his injured shoulder the torn sinews throbbed with pain which lashed him to frenzy. More maddening even than the pain was the astounding, infuriating fact of failure, failure to overwhelm this rival in the first onset.

Not for years had any bull stood up so long against him. For the first time since the far away days of his youth Awi Agwa's colossal bulk and might had failed to conquer quickly.

It was this that drove him almost insane with rage. Into this first stage of the battle the giant elk threw all the strength he had. Hampered by his hurt shoulder, by the exhaustion resulting from his long journey, he could not overthrow his enemy; but for many minutes he forced the fighting, pushing his opponent backward, lunging and stabbing, twisting his hairy neck, swinging his huge antlers to right and left as he strove to get past his opponent's guard and deliver the swift ripping thrust in the flank which would have ended the fight.

Neither bull knew that the elk cows, which at first had watched the duel with excited interest, were watching it no longer; that suddenly one of them had lifted her head, sniffed the air and galloped off to the right, followed by all the rest. Neither bull was aware of the tall buckskin-clad shape which slipped from tree to tree at the north-