First one stone became untied and rolled away in a cloud of dust to one side of the road , whilst Moti nearly rolled off too , but clasped his steed valiantly by its ragged mane , and , dropping his staff , held on for dear life . Then , fortunately the other rock broke away from his other leg and rolled thunderously down a neighbouring ravine . Meanwhile the advanced cavalry had barely time to draw to one side when Moti came dashing by , yelling bloodthirsty threats to his pony : ` You wait till I get hold of you ! I 'll skin you alive ! I 'll wring your neck ! I 'll break every bone in your body ! ' The cavalry thought that this dreadful language was meant for the enemy , and were filled with admiration of his courage . Many of their horses too were quite upset by this whirlwind that galloped howling through their midst , and in a few minutes , after a little plunging and rearing and kicking , the whole troop were following on Moti 's heels . Far in advance , Moti continued his wild career . Presently in his course he came to a great field of castor-oil plants , ten or twelve feet high , big and bushy , but quite green and soft . Hoping to escape from the back of his fiery steed Moti grasped one in passing , but its roots gave way , and he dashed on , with the whole plant looking like a young tree flourishing in his grip . The enemy were in battle array , advancing over the plain , their king with them confident and cheerful , when suddenly from the front came a desperate rider at a furious gallop . ` Sire ! ' he cried , ` save yourself ! the enemy are coming ! ' ` What do you mean ? ' said the king . ` Oh , sire ! ' panted the messenger , ` fly at once , there is no time to lose . Foremost of the enemy rides a mad giant at a furious gallop .
He flourishes a tree XXXXX a club and is wild with anger , for as he goes he cries , `` You wait till I get hold of you !
after by for of on over that through to with