Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: April 30, 2025
Just now the head of Deenah bent low over the open pack, the movement of his hand instantly drawing and filling the eye of the trader from Kabul; and then it was that the Sahiba's syce, who was a huge man, materialised a lakri from under his long cotton tunic the lakri being a stick of olive-wood from High Himalaya and very hard.
No swordsman has done as much. . . . And it was only a lakri you had and a swordsman's blade goes soft and flat against a cobra's scales! . . . You see, they take wings when the fighting rage flows into them. It's like wings, sir. . . . Yes, you'll have a lame arm where the hood grazed. It couldn't have been the drive of the head or he would have bitten through "
There was a quick turn of his eye for a weapon, even as he heard a deep tone from Carlin something immortal in the resonance: ". . . You might save me . . . but, don't you see I want you more!" A lakri of Bhanah's leaned against the playhouse at the side towards the road. The cobra had lifted himself erect upon his tail almost to the level of Skag's eyes, hood spread.
Carlin talked to him low tones no words which she or Skag should know again. . . . The lakri was of iron-wood from the North, thick as the man's wrist at the top. It pulled Skag's eye a second time. It meant the surrender of his faith in his own free-handed powers to reach for the lakri; it meant the fight to death.
Before the whirring lakri, the cobra head played like a flung veil between and through and around. . . . So, for many seconds. The grey magnetic haze was a dirty brown now. The man was seeing through blood. He could not make a blow tell.
There was an instant as his hand closed upon the lakri, the corner of the playhouse wall shutting him off from the cobra an instant that was doom-long, age-long, long enough for him to picture in his own thoughts the king turning upon the threshold entering, rising before Carlin! . . . The threshold was empty as he stepped back, but the cobra had not entered.
His lakri touched the hood. With all his strength, though with a loose whipping wrist, he had struck. The lakri had touched the hood, but there was no violence to the impact. . . . Carlin's love tones were in his heart. Skag laughed. The head went out of sight. Skag struck again. It was as if his lakri were caught in a swift hand and held for just the fraction of a second.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking