Stern command and iron arm forced him to a standstill.

The calf, nearly strangled, recovered when the noose was slipped, and moaned a feeble protest against life and captivity.

The remainder of Jones's lasso went to bind number six, and one of his socks went to serve as reminder to the persistent wolves.
"Six! On! On! Kentuck! On!" Weakening, but unconscious of it, with bloody hands and feet, without lasso, and with only one charge in his revolver, hatless, coatless, vestless, bootless, the wild hunter urged on the noble horse.

The herd had gained miles in the interval of the fight.

Game to the backbone, Kentuck lengthened out to overhaul it, and slowly the rolling gap lessened and lessened.