We had reached some rocks upon a little rise, just
where the bank began, when Leo said suddenly--"No use, we can't make it.
Stop and let's see the thing through."
So we wheeled round, resting our backs against the rock. There, about a
hundred yards off, were the death-hounds, but Heaven be praised! _only
three of them_. The rest had followed the flying horses, and doubtless
when they caught them at last, which may have been far distant, had
stopped to gorge themselves upon them. So they were out of the fight.
Only three, and the Khan, a wild figure, who galloped with them; but
those three, the black and red brute, Master, and two others almost as
fierce and big.
"It might be worse," said Leo. "If you will try to tackle the dogs, I'll
do my best with the Khan," and stooping down he rubbed his palms in the
grit, for they were wet as water, an example which I followed. Then we
gripped the spears in our right hands and the knives in our left, and
waited.
The dogs had seen us now and came on, growling and baying fearfully.
With a rush they came, and I am not ashamed to own that I felt terribly
afraid, for the brutes seemed the size of lions and more fierce. One,
it was the smallest of them, outstripped the others, and, leaping up the
little rise, sprang straight at my throat.
Why or how I do not know, but on the impulse of the moment I too sprang
to meet it, so that its whole weight came upon the point of my spear,
which was backed by my weight.
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