In another instant his free arm had encircled Rod's neck, and for a few brief moments the two were locked in a crushing embrace, neither being able to use the weapon in his hand without offering an advantage to the other.
In that respite, which only death could follow, Rod's brain worked with the swiftness of fire.

He was lying face downward upon his enemy; the Woonga was flat upon his back, the latter's knife hand stretched out behind his head with Rod's knife hand locking it.

For either to strike a blow both of their fighting hands must be freed.

In the first instant of that freedom, the savage, with his arm already extended, could deliver a blow sooner than his antagonist, who would have to raise his arm as well as strike.

In other words, by the time Rod's knife was poised his enemy's would be buried in his breast.