Lariat

Reb had been engaged in the pursuits he enjoyed, making lariats out of vines and teaching some of the tribesmen to lasso things. He had little success however, for they were clumsy.

“Good night!” he said. “Back where I come from, even the babies in the cradle know how to rope.”

He made a loop and began to spin it. It grew larger and larger. He stepped inside it like a circus performer, a grin on his face. “Now, that’s the way you’re supposed to make it work.” Then he suddenly made the loop fly up and over toward Grak, the witch doctor, who was standing a few feet away. The loop fell across his shoulders, and Reb yanked it tight.