And the move saved him.

With a guttural cry the savage leaped toward him, struck out with his knife and missed, stumbled over the boy's prostrate form and fell beside him.
Months of hardship and adventure in the wilderness had made Rod as lithe as a forest cat, his muscles like steel.

Without rising he flung himself upon his enemy, his own knife raised in gleaming death above the savage's breast.

But the Woonga was as quick.

Like a flash he struck up with one of his powerful arms and the force of the blow that was descending upon him fell to the earth floor.