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RV 395 saw Son of the Wind standing, facing him, with head held low. That was a curious thing to see a creature of the tribes that fly at a shadow, aware of him and yet unmoved.

Carron whirled the blanket above his head, and charged with a shout. The horse stood for an uncanny minute when the man felt as if he were charging an image. There was only a rod between them when the animal wheeled and broke. He went with leaps across the open, toppling forward as if every bound would fling him, sullenly, with a strange reluctance, a fear of the open that was greater than his fear of the man. At the water's edge, he faced about, dazed to find himself there, to realize the covert of trees so far behind. Carron saw the white of the eyes, the white of the teeth, the sharp edge of hoofs, felt the threatened charge, and charged himself.

He heard the sounds behind him of the men driving the posts home. He ran back and forth with cries, keeping the scarlet folds flying above his head, keeping the creature in recoil, half backed into the water. Triumph was rising in him. Presently behind his back he heard the half-breed call. He knew what that meant. "All right," he shouted, but did not look behind him. Now that he had the creature in his power his instinct was strong to hold