But his teeth only shut the tighter as
the knives clashed together, and he thrust or eluded with a
coolness born of conscious strength. At first he felt compassion
for his enemy; but this fled before the primal instinct of life,
which in turn gave way to the lust of slaughter. The ten thousand
years of culture fell from him, and he was a cave-dweller, doing
battle for his female.
Twice he pricked the Bear, getting away unscathed; but the third
time caught, and to save himself, free hands closed on fighting
hands, and they came together.
Then did he realize the tremendous strength of his opponent. His
muscles were knotted in painful lumps, and cords and tendons
threatened to snap with the strain; yet nearer and nearer came
the Russian steel. He tried to break away, but only weakened
himself. The fur-clad circle closed in, certain of and anxious to
see the final stroke. But with wrestler's trick, swinging partly
to the side, he struck at his adversary with his head.
Involuntarily the Bear leaned back, disturbing his center of
gravity. Simultaneous with this, Mackenzie tripped properly and
threw his whole weight forward, hurling him clear through the
circle into the deep snow.
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