During the rollings and the squirmings of the next few minutes, Tarzan’s hold was loosened a dozen times until finally an accidental circumstance of those swift and ever-changing evolutions gave him a new hold with his right hand, which he soon realized was absolutely unassailable.
His arm was passed beneath Terkoz’ arm from behind and his hand and forearm encircled the back of Terkoz’ neck.  It was the half-Nelson of modern wrestling which the untaught ape-man had stumbled upon, but divine reason showed him in an instant the value of the thing he had discovered.  It was the difference to him between life and death.
And so he struggled to encompass a similar hold with the left hand, and in a few moments Terkoz' bull neck was creaking beneath a full-Nelson.
There was no more lunging about now.  The two lay perfectly still upon the ground, Tarzan upon Terkoz’ back.  Slowly the bullet head of the ape was being forced lower and lower upon his chest.
Tarzan knew what the result would be.  In an instant the neck would break.  Then there came to Terkoz’ rescue the same thing that had put him in these sore straits—a man’s reasoning power.
“If I kill him,” thought Tarzan, “what advantage will it be to me?  Will it not but rob the tribe of a great fighter?  And if Terkoz be dead, he will know nothing of my supremacy, while alive he will ever be an example to the other apes.”
Ka-goda?” hissed Tarzan in Terkoz’ ear, which, in ape tongue, means, freely translated:  “Do you surrender?”
For a moment there was no reply, and Tarzan added a few more ounces of pressure, which elicited a horrified shriek of pain from the great beast.
Ka-goda?” repeated Tarzan.
Ka-goda!” cried Terkoz.
--Tarzan of the Apes, by Edgar Rice Burroughs (1912)


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