As she gazed again with keener perception, Moore's horse plunged away from the fiercely struggling forms that had rolled almost under his feet.

During the ensuing moments it was an equal battle so far as Columbine could tell.
Repelled, yet fascinated, she watched.

They beat each other, grappled and rolled over, first one on top, then the other.

But the advantage of being uppermost presently was Belllounds's.

Moore was weakening.