They saw a picture of horse and man crushed against the barrier.
But there was no such stupid rage in the mind of the stallion.
At the last moment he swerved and raced close beside the fence; some projecting edge caught the trousers of Woodbury and ripped away the stout cloth from hip to heel.

He swung far to the other side and wrenched back the reins.

With stiff-braced legs the stallion slid to a halt that flung his unbalanced rider forward along his neck.

Before he could straighten himself in the saddle, the horse roared and came down on rigid forelegs, yet by a miracle Woodbury clung, sprawled down the side of the monster, to be sure, but was not quite dismounted.
Another pitch of the same nature would have freed the stallion from his rider beyond doubt, but he elected to gallop full speed ahead the length of the arena, and during that time, Woodbury, stunned though he was, managed to drag himself back into the saddle.

The end of the race was a leap into the air that would have cleared a five-bar fence, and down pitched the fighting horse on braced legs again.