Again the valley echoed to pounding hoofs over soft-carpeted earth. Swift, light and cautious were the strides of the red stallion. Heavy, plunging and confident were those of the Piebald. The heads of both were raised high; one was small, sensitive and intelligent; the other, large and grotesquely ugly with bright eyes too small and set too close. Each stride brought them closer; a burly, powerful outcast—the product of a cruel twist of fate—and a long-limbed stallion, graceful, swift and strong, a superb creation.

Steve watched with dull, pained eyes. His desire to see the red stallion win went far beyond his love for Flame; for he knew that if the red stallion won, it would mean more horses like him in the years to come. If he lost, it meant the end of this breed of horse, because the Piebald’s blood would flow into the small band. The result would be misfits and monstrosities like him.

His heavy gait unchanging, the Piebald charged the red stallion, who screamed and rose to meet him. There was the hard, wrenching crack of bodies, the raking of teeth and over it all their terrible screams.

Skillfully the red stallion moved to one side of the Piebald, never underestimating the strength in his opponent’s burly body. He darted in with bared teeth and battering forefeet, never staying too long, never giving the Piebald the opportunity of using his heavier weight to his advantage.

For many minutes it went on that way, with the Piebald still confident and awaiting his chance to close in upon his elusive enemy. And soon the red stallion moved away less quickly and the infighting of bared teeth and flying hoofs became more furious.

Keep away from him, Flame! Keep away! Steve wanted to shout, but no words came from his lips.

Pitch said, “He’s licked! He’s too far gone to keep away any longer! He was licked before the fight started!”

They were locked together now, two raging devils with battering hoofs and gleaming teeth. Steve knew that this had to be the end, and he was deathly afraid for his horse. He saw the Piebald wheel, sending his hind legs heavily against the red stallion’s shoulder. He heard Flame scream, no longer in fury but in terrible pain. He saw his horse stumble, and then the Piebald was hurling himself upon Flame’s hindquarters. Steve knew that it was time for him to look away, but he found he couldn’t.

The end of the fight came quickly. Still screaming, the red stallion moved with a sudden, frantic burst of his old speed, avoiding the thrashing forefeet of the Piebald.

Flame had escaped death by only a fraction of a second. He had put off the end, but only momentarily. With grim realization of what the outcome had to be, Steve awaited the red stallion’s return lunge at the Piebald.