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144 MOONFOLK.
would have entered his open
mouth, swerved suddenly
aside, and not heeding the edge of the blade, which slid
harmlessly along his cheek, he aimed a blow with his
tusks at the knight's right leg, which only the armor
covering it prevented from taking full effect. As it
was, Sir Lancelot staggered several paces, and had not
recovered himself when the boar, turning short in his
tracks, rushed upon him from behind, aiming to
overthrow
him and so be able to reach a more vulnerable
point.
The movement was so sudden and so unexpected
as almost to succeed, and Sir Lancelot, dropping
upon one knee, let fall his sword, and seizing the dagger
in his right hand, received the boar upon his wounded
left arm, and at the same moment struck a deep and
downright blow into the gleaming right eye
of the
creature, who, uttering a savage cry of rage and pain,
threw himself forward, tearing and grinding with his
tusks, which slid along the arm as far as the elbow, and
there penetrating the point of the brassarde or armor
of the arm, tore off the plate and inflicted a slight wound
upon
the flesh beneath. The next instant the boar
rolled over in his death-agony, and Sir Lancelot, shaking
himself free from the huge carcass, rose to his feet and
looked about him.
The sun was near its setting, and its last rays struck
through and through the treetops, casting a green and
golden light into the depths of the forest, lighting them
like noonday. All the birds had come home to their nests,