They neared the ball rapidly and
Isaacs swerved a little to the left in order to get it well under his
right hand, thus throwing himself somewhat across the track of his
pursuer. As the Persian struck with all his force downwards and
backwards, his adversary, excited by the chase, beyond all judgment or
reckoning of his chances, hit out wildly, as beginners will. The long
elastic handle of his weapon struck Isaacs' horse on the flank and
glanced upward, the head of the club striking Isaacs just above the back
of the neck. We saw him throw up his arms, the club in his right hand
hanging to his wrist by the strap. The infuriated little arab pony tore
on, and in a moment more the iron grip of the rider's knees relaxed,
Isaacs swayed heavily in the saddle and fell over on the near side, his
left foot hanging in the stirrup and dragging him along some paces
before the horse finally shook himself clear and scampered away across
the turf. The whole catastrophe occurred in a moment; the man who had
done the mischief threw away his club to reach the injured player the
sooner, and as we thundered after him, my pony stumbled over the long
handle, and falling, threw me heavily over his head. I escaped with a
very slight kick from one of the other horses, and leaving my beast to
take care of himself, ran as fast as I could to where Isaacs lay, now
surrounded by the six players as they dismounted to help him.
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