And then Targoutai struck! The old wolf sought 
To slay the cub and all his Taidjuts brought;
But Timujin the sly would not be caught
And with his brothers fled, while on their heels
The Taidjuts rode so close that Kassar sped
His arrows at them while the young Khan wheels
And, unaccom'nied to the mountains fled.
The hunt is on! The hunters make no haste.
The trail is fresh. These nomads know their work.
Accustomed they to trail across the waste
A strayed or stolen horse for days, they lurk
In tireless patience on the boy's plain trail,
Bent on the day when all the tribes shall hail
Targoutai khan and Taidjut arms prevail.

Targoutai feasts and celebrates tonight;
For he has won the khanship by his might,
With none to question or deny his right.
And while he feasts, his victim, in his tent,
With piercing eye that cuts the murky gloom
Beholds escape from his predicament
And eyes the sleepy guard and plans his doom.
'Tis not for nothing flows within his veins
The blood of Kabul Khan or his own sire;
'Twas not for nothing Houlan's labor pains
Brought forth this creature of her hot desire
Whose hate burns white within that unbowed head
As, rising from the grass that is his bed,
Lifts high the kang and strikes the warrior dead.