With both arms round him I held on.

I vowed never to let him get down that slide.

He howled and tore, but I held on.

My big black horse with ears laid back stood like a rock.
I heard the pattering of little sliding rocks below; stealthy padded footsteps and hard panting breaths, almost like coughs; then the lion passed out of the slide not twenty feet away.

He saw us, and sprang into the pinyon scrub with the leap of a scared deer.
Samson himself could no longer have held Moze.