the huge bull that had lorded it over all the other bulls of the Cowees and whose mastery no other bull had dared dispute. He had come back to claim his own; and now he was striding across the open, jaws champing, antlers tossing, eyes red with the frenzy of battle. Panic gripped the usurper. He stood rigid, staring wildly. In another moment he would have turned to run.
In that moment something happened. Suddenly Awi Agwa staggered, halted, stood swaying uncertainly. The last stiff climb up the steep western slope to the plateau had all but exhausted the wounded bull, and now the world went black before him. Almost at once the faintness passed and his vision cleared. But the sharp eyes of the other bull had seen, his cunning brain had understood.
Almayne, half-striding, half-running up the steep mountain side, heard another bugle call above him, a challenge shriller than Awi Agwa's fierce blast but no less angry, no less defiant. A sudden light flared in the hunter's eager eyes. He knew that in the high meadow on the brow of the precipice he would find Awi Agwa in combat with a rival; and he knew that in the fury of battle his victim would be oblivious to all other dangers.
The long hunt was nearly over. The great bull elk of Sani'gilagi had reached his journey's end.
