Page:Sienkiewicz - The knights of the cross.djvu/266

242 to be looking with bloody eyes from beneath their shaggy manes for a hidden enemy.

Meanwhile the woodmen raised a mighty shout, to which answer was given from the main line and from the wings of the circle by hundreds of loud voices; horns and whistles made an uproar; the wilderness quivered to its remotest depths, and at the same moment the dogs of the Kurpie rushed out to the plain with a fearful tumult, and chased along on the trail. The sight of them roused rage in the twinkle of an eye among female beasts which had their young with them. The herd of animals, going hitherto slowly, scattered over the whole plain in mad haste. A wild bull, tawny, gigantic, almost monstrous, surpassing bisons in size, rushed with great springs toward the line of hunters; he turned toward the right side of the plain, then, seeing horses some tens of yards distant, among the trees, he halted, and roaring, began to plough the earth with his horns, as if rousing himself to spring forward and fight.

At this sight the woodmen raised a still greater shout. In the line of hunters were heard piercing voices,—

"The princess! the princess! Save the princess!"

Zbyshko grasped his spear planted in the snow and sprang to the edge of the forest; after him went a number of Lithuanians ready to die in defence of the daughter of Keistut; meanwhile a crossbow sounded in the hands of the lady, a shaft whistled, and, flying over the inclined head of the bull, it fastened in his neck.

"He has got it!" cried the princess; "he will come no nearer!"

But a roar so dreadful that horses rose on their haunches drowned further words of hers. The bull hurled himself like a storm straight against the princess. But suddenly, and with no less impetus, the manful De Lorche rushed forth, from among the trees; bent forward on his horse, with lance lowered as in a knightly tournament, he bore straight on the animal. In one twinkle of an eye those present saw buried in the neck of the bull a lance which bent like a reed and broke into small splinters, then the immense horned head disappeared altogether under the belly of De Lorche's horse, and before any one present could utter a cry, the steed and the rider flew through the air as if sent from a sling.

The horse, falling on his side, began in mortal agony to struggle with his feet, entangling them in his own intestines,