Fair and true he struck the saddle and with marvelous skill his left
foot caught the stirrup and clung to it--but the right foot missed its
aim, and, before Dunbar could lodge his foot squarely, the stirrup was
dancing crazily as Diablo began a wild combination of cross-bucking
and sunfishing. The hat snapped from the head of Dunbar and his long
black hair tossed; with both hands he was clinging. All joy of battle
was gone from him. In its place was staring fear, for his right foot
was still out of the stirrup.
"Choke him down! Choke him--" he shrieked.
Before he could be obeyed by his confused henchmen, Diablo shot into
the air and at the very crest of his rise, bucked. Dunbar lurched to
one side. There was a groan from the bystanders; and the next instant
the stallion, landing on the one stiffened foreleg, had snapped his
rider from the saddle and hurled him to the ground.
He lay in a shapeless heap, and the stallion whirled to finish his
enemy.
CHAPTER 18
Every second of the fight Bull Hunter had followed the actions of the
horse as though he were directing them from the distance with some
electric form of communication and control.
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