Its last lurch of agony carped the stricken wildcat over the edge and out the ninety-foot drop into the ravine.

Lad was all-but carried along with his adversary.

He clawed wildly with his toes for a purchase on the smooth cliff wall; over which his hindquarters had slipped.

For a second he hung, swaying, above the abyss.
Cyril, scared into semi-insanity by sight of the sudden brief battle, had caught up a stick from the rubbish at his feet.

With this, not at all knowing what he did, he smote the struggling Lad with every atom of his feeble force, over the head.
Luckily for the gallant dog, the stick was rotten.