He fell upon his side.

Before he could recover himself the club was pounding his head into the snow.
The world grew black.

He no longer had the power to move.

Lying as if dead he still heard over him the panting, exultant voice of the man-beast.

For Le Beau, black though his heart was, could not keep back a prayerful cry of thankfulness that he was victor--and had missed death, though by a space no wider than the link of a chain..