He would back steadily for some seconds, then, with two or three forward plunges, he would stop as if shot and spring straight into the upper air, lighting with back curved and legs rigid as iron.

Then he would walk on his hind legs for a few steps, then throw himself with amazing rapidity to one side and again proceed to buck with vicious diligence.
"Stick to him!" yelled Jack, through his shouts of laughter.

"You'll make him sick before long." I remember thinking that unless his insides were somewhat more delicately organized than his external appearance would lead one to suppose the chances were that the little brute would be the last to succumb to sickness.

To make matters worse, a wilder jump than ordinary threw my cape up over my head, so that I was in complete darkness.

And now he had me at his mercy, and he knew no pity.