Then Makoos drew up his leg and sent it out like a catapault, and in spite of his determination to hang on Neewa found himself sailing wildly through the air.

He landed against a rock twenty feet from the fighters with a force that knocked the wind out of him, and for a matter of eight or ten seconds after that he wobbled dizzily in his efforts to stand up.
Then his vision and his senses returned and he gazed on a scene that brought all the blood pounding back into his body again.
Makoos was no longer fighting, but was RUNNING AWAY--and there was a decided limp in his gait! Poor old Noozak was standing on her feet, facing the retreating enemy.
She was panting like a winded calf.

Her jaws were agape.

Her tongue lolled out, and blood was dripping in little trickles from her body to the ground.

She had been thoroughly and efficiently mauled.