Even if this
fight were his last, he meant to preserve his dignity.
Again the salute sounded--shattering out like a thunderclap over the
jungle. Then challenger and challenged closed.
At first the watchers were silent. Then as the battle grew ever fiercer
and more terrible, they began to grunt and squeal, surging back and
forth, stamping the earth and crashing the underbrush. All the
jungle-folk for miles about knew what was occurring. And Ahmad Din
wished his _keddah_ were completed, for never could there be a better
opportunity to surround the herd than at the present moment, when they
had forgotten all things except the battling monsters in the centre of
the ring.
The two bulls were quite evenly matched. The patriarch knew more of
fighting, had learned more wiles, but he had neither the strength nor
the agility of Muztagh. The late twilight deepened into the intense
dark, and the stars of midnight rose above the eastern hills.
All at once, Muztagh went to his knees. But as might a tiger, he sprang
aside in time to avoid a terrible tusk blow to his shoulder. And his
counter-blow, a lashing cut with the head, shattered the great leader to
the earth. The elephants bounded forward, but the old leader had a trick
left in his trunk. As Muztagh bore down upon him he reared up beneath,
and almost turned the tables. Only the youngster's superior strength
saved him from immediate defeat.
But as the night drew to morning, the bulls began to see that the tide
of the battle had turned.
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