Page:Shingle-short-Baughan-1908.djvu/118

 Till, the speed, and the hope, and the help of the animal nerving me, Thought Tighten’d the rein upon Panic, and Manhood with Creaturehood fought.— We were breasting a rise—half-a-mile from the lines I remember’d it dropp’d— When I check’d her; and there, in the darkness, we slacken’d....and stopp’d....

Before us, Life, shelter, and comrades. ...Behind, the ineffable Dread; And Its trophy, Its victim, Its sinister Warning, the monstrously Dead— Had he glutted It? Maybe, that instant the Imminent Wrath stoop’d to slay— On! On to my fellows.... ''Good Heavens! and what would they say?''

..Vanity: self-esteem: terror of ridicule: wretchedly small! Spokes, none the less, on the wheel of the steering-gear guiding us all! And, God help us! HE made us. And, welcome enough, when you’re nearly aground, Comes a pull on the least of the lot, if it fetches you round....

Death, there behind? The malignant Impalpable, striking unseen?— Ay, but what with them? My duty! Great God, what a skunk I had been! Safety before us, and comrades, and comfort, and shelter—and Shame? Rangi and I wheel’d round, and gallop’d the way we came.