If he could, there would have been an end of John Niel, and his story need never have been written.
Half a minute or so passed, during which the bird worked his sweet will upon his prostrate enemy, and at the end of it the man began to feel very much as though his earthly career was closed.

Just as things were growing faint and dim to him, however, he suddenly saw a pair of white arms clasp themselves round the ostrich's legs from behind, and heard a voice cry: "Break his neck while I hold his legs, or he will kill you." This roused him from his torpor, and he staggered to his feet.

Meanwhile the ostrich and the young lady had come to the ground, and were rolling about together in a confused heap, over which the elegant neck and open hissing mouth wavered to and fro like a cobra about to strike.

With a rush John seized the neck in both his hands, and, putting out all his strength (for he was a strong man), he twisted it till it broke with a snap, and after a few wild and convulsive bounds and struggles the great bird lay dead.
Then he sank down dazed and exhausted, and surveyed the scene.

The ostrich was perfectly quiet, and would never kick again, and the lady too was quiet.