| 90 | 91 | 92 | 93 | 94 |
| 1 | 74 | 149 | 223 | 297 |
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them incontinently. So presently they broke into the open again, a wide
expanse of turfy hillside--the very grassy downs that fall northward
nowadays from the Epsom Stand.
The first hot bolt of the Master Horse was long since over. He was
falling into a measured trot, and Ugh-lomi, albeit bruised exceedingly
and quite uncertain of the future, was in a state of glorious enjoyment.
And now came a new development. The pace broke again, the Master Horse
came round on a short curve, and stopped dead....
Ugh-lomi became alert. He wished he had a flint, but the throwing-flint
he had carried in a thong about his waist was--like the axe--heaven
knows where. The Master Horse turned his head, and Ugh-lomi became aware
of an eye and teeth. He whipped his leg into a position of security, and
hit at the cheek with his fist. Then the head went down somewhere out of
existence apparently, and the back he was sitting on flew up into a
dome. Ugh-lomi became a thing of instinct again--strictly prehensile; he
held by knees and feet, and his head seemed sliding towards the turf.
His fingers were twisted into the shock of mane, and the rough hair of
the horse saved him. The gradient he was on lowered again, and
then--"Whup!" said Ugh-lomi astonished, and the slant was the other way
up. But Ugh-lomi was a thousand generations nearer the primordial than
man: no monkey could have held on better. And the lion had been training
the horse for countless generations against the tactics of rolling and
rearing back. But he kicked like a master, and buck-jumped rather
neatly. In five minutes Ugh-lomi lived a lifetime. If he came off the
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