In a second he was on his legs again, shaken indeed, but not much the worse, and perfectly mad with fury and pain.

At him came the ostrich, and at the ostrich went he, catching it a blow across the slim neck with his _sjambock_ that staggered it for a moment.

Profiting by the check, he seized the bird by the wing and held on like grim death with both hands.
Now they began to gyrate, slowly at first, then quicker, and yet more quick, till at last it seemed to Captain John Niel that time and space and the solid earth were nothing but a revolving vision fixed somewhere in the watches of the night.

Above him, like a stationary pivot, towered the tall graceful neck, beneath him spun the top-like legs, and in front of him was a soft black and white mass of feathers.
Thud, and a cloud of stars! He was on his back, and the ostrich, which did not seem to be affected by giddiness, was on _him_, punishing him dreadfully.

Luckily an ostrich cannot kick a man very hard when he is flat on the ground.