In the few seconds that he twirled away, Steve thought it was over and that Flame’s only chance for his life was to run—to run as he had done before. And Steve heard himself screaming to his horse. “Run! Run!”

The red stallion pivoted around the Piebald as the black-and-white stallion plunged at him and missed. Again Flame had the opportunity to flee, and for a second he stood still, breathing heavily.

“Go, Flame! Go!” Steve shouted at the top of his voice. But his words fell away beneath the sound of the wrenching and cracking of bodies as Flame rose to meet the Piebald’s return rush.

Nevertheless, Flame’s tactics had changed, and it was as though pain and the last few agonizing minutes when he had tasted defeat had given rise to intelligence over frenzied fury. Now he moved in quickly, striking hard, but never staying long before moving away again on lightning hoofs. He was patient, waiting until he was ready before going forward with bared teeth and battering forefeet. And when the Piebald charged, Flame avoided him on winged feet, moving with swiftness and agility. Sometimes he would turn, and his hind legs would catch the Piebald with tremendous power. For many minutes Flame whirled, circled and reared, pummeling with slashing hoofs, tearing with raking, ripping teeth. And always he would leap clear again before the Piebald could hold him close.

Finally the Piebald, too, changed his tactics. No longer did he rely upon weight alone. No longer did he charge ruthlessly, blindly, to be cut to ribbons by his agile opponent. He too awaited openings, all the while maneuvering his burly body into a position where he could fight the red stallion once more at close quarters, where his weight would give him an advantage. His small eyes gleamed red as persistently but cautiously he forced the fight, rearing high to catch and hold his elusive enemy.

The hoofs of both thrashed the air, sometimes finding their mark and striking solidly upon hard flesh. Snorting, squealing, each waited for the opening that would mean destruction for the other.

Flanks heaved and their breathing became heavier, but still the furious tempo of the fight went on. Now, more than ever before, each was wary of the other. This fight had lasted too long. Both were tired; each knew his chance would come soon.