They met almost in the center of the little plateau, met with a resounding clash of antlers which startled the rabbits among the rocks along the meadow's rim. To an onlooker at that moment it would have seemed an unequal battle; for although the usurper was a bull of powerful build and more than normal stature, Awi Agwa was by far the taller and heavier, while his huge antlers dwarfed those of his opponent. Yet a keen-eyed observer would have perceived quickly that in this duel bulk of body and spread of horns were not the only factors.
Unwounded, his powers unimpaired, Awi Agwa would have borne his enemy off his feet in that first charge. As it was, the shock of collision brought triumph to neither side. With Awi Agwa rested the advantage, but it was not decisive.
The usurper was forced back upon his haunches; but he checked the other's onset, recovered himself quickly, held Awi Agwa's antlers in play so that the long prongs could not gore his flanks. Already the usurper knew that he had not ventured too rashly in giving battle to this half-crippled giant. The first shock had given him the measure of Awi Agwa's strength, and now he was not afraid.
Heads down, mouths lolling open and wickedly leering, antlers clashing and grinding, they strove with the fury of demons. For a time Awi Agwa forced his opponent slowly backward. The great
