If, however, on a warm spring day, when the herdsmen are sleeping beneath their _gubas_, the two hostile chiefs should encounter each other, a terrible fight ensues between them, which regularly ends with the fall or the flight of one of them.

At such a time it is vain for the herdsman to attempt to separate them.

The infuriated animals neither see nor hear him; all their faculties are devoted to the destruction of each other.

Sometimes the struggle lasts for hours on a plot of meadow, which they denude of its grass as cleanly as if it had been ploughed.

Finally, the beast who is getting the worst of it, feeling that his rival is the stronger, begins with a terrific roar to fly away through the herd, and runs wild on the _puszta_; with blood-red eyes, with blood-red lolling tongue, he wanders up and down the fields and meadows, frequently returning to the scene of his humiliation; but he mingles no longer with the herd, and woe betide every living animal he encounters! He begins to pursue whatever meets his eye in the distance, and he has been known to watch for days the tree in which a wayfarer has taken refuge, until casually passing _csikoses_ have come up and driven the beast away.
From the information given by the _gulyases_, it was easy to trace the lair of the bull.