While his horse continued galloping, he was bending his bow in order to spread pestilence abroad.

At his back swung the brass quiver filled with poisoned arrows, containing the germs of all diseases--those of private life as well as those which envenom the wounded soldier on the battlefield.
The second horseman on the red steed was waving the enormous, two-edged sword over his hair bristling with the swiftness of his course.

He was young, but the fierce scowl and the scornful mouth gave him a look of implacable ferocity.

His garments, blown open by the motion of his wild race, disclosed the form of a muscular athlete.
Bald, old and horribly skinny was the third horseman bouncing up and down on the rawboned back of his black steed.

His shrunken legs clanked against the thin flanks of the lean beast.