The chestnut reared and plunged, eager to smash his antagonist to the ground. Midnight met the smashing charge with counterblows, but he was driven backward though he remained on his feet. A red wound gaped on his chest and blood trickled down across the white splash on his forehead but his fury was so great that he did not feel the pain. His hind feet struck solid rock and stones flew into the canyon behind him. He was poised on the very edge of the chasm. Then he saw his danger, as he shifted sidewise to dodge the blows of the big stallion. His hind feet were planted inches from the rim as he reared to meet another attack. The chestnut was blind with fury, he did not see the sheer drop ahead. With a terrible scream he lunged. Midnight had met every charge squarely, desiring only to match blows with his foe, but the dizzy space under his feet made him suddenly change his tactics. He leaped aside to avoid being shoved over the edge. The chestnut’s lunge carried him forward like an avalanche. Too late he saw the rim and the empty space ahead. Plunging and sliding he shot toward the abyss. Midnight’s rump was toward him and close. With a shrill cry the black lashed out with his hind feet. His hoofs landed against the side of the struggling stallion poised on the dizzy height. The chestnut might have saved himself but for that hail of blows. With a defiant, savage squeal he plunged into space. Midnight whirled about and stood with lowered head, hot breath whistling through his flaring nostrils, his eyes rolling so that their white rims gleamed in the morning sunlight. He watched the body of the chestnut turn over and over in the air as it shot down to land in a mangled heap on a pile of rocks. Stamping and snorting he waited for the chestnut to get to his feet and start back to finish the battle. The chestnut did not move, but lay, a mangled heap of broken bones and twisted muscles at the foot of the cliff. Midnight challenged his adversary many times as he stood there on the high rim. When he got no reply he turned toward the mares who had not stopped their eager feeding. The pinto nickered eagerly and left her grass pulling to trot toward him. The mares lifted their heads for a moment as he came closer. Midnight trotted to them, dancing as he approached.