“Day had dawned, but its light struggled almost in vain with the storm
which held carnival in the valley. Strap arose refreshed and vigorous.
He breakfasted on the remnants of the hoe-cake and bacon of the night’s
repast. The merry jug stood near, but he turned away from it with a
look of reproach. Donning his garment of buckskin, he said: ‘The hour
arrives!’ Then taking his iron limb in his right hand, the only aid he
asked from art, this matchless hero stepped out into the storm, called
his swift nag, and rode away to war.
“He had advanced but a few paces when the Infernal Fiend, in the form
of a skinny, ugly dwarf, appeared before him, dancing a jig, but he did
not make the insulting sign of derision. He bowed politely and said:
‘Hail to thee, Strap Buckner! I see that thou art a man of honor.
Receive my obeisance to a man of courage! I will lead and thou wilt
follow.’
“‘I dare follow where the Foul Fiend leadeth,’ said Strap. And both
moved onward through the storm, the Fiend in advance. A white flame of
lightning illuminated the valley, and when Strap looked again the Fiend
had disappeared, but an enormous bull, black as night, strode before
him. ‘Ah,’ said Strap, ‘this is my old friend Noche, I perceive. How is
thy frontlet, Noche? Hast thou had the screw worms picked out of thy
wounds? Better betake thee to a pretty, protected nook, and eat
cowslips and make calves for an honest milk-maid.’ Again the blinding
lightning came, and when Strap recovered his sight, Noche had departed;
in his stead the Fiend in stately form marched before him.
“They had now reached the foot of the upland that looks into the vale.
Silently they ascended to a cluster of noble oaks. The green sward was
rich and level around them. Rather seemed it a place for fairies to
dance under the moonlight than for Fiend and hero to meet in the
struggle of death. Strap dismounted and, turning his gray nag loose,
said to him: ‘Charge thyself with grass, whilst I charge myself with
the Devil. Prosper my work like thine!’ The gray nag wagged his
bobtail, and said, ‘I charge.’ Without the tremor of a nerve, without
air of fear or air of boast, this matchless hero confronted the Fiend.
As he did so, the latter meanly commenced to grow, and ceased not to
grow till he had achieved such stature that his head was a hundred and
ninety feet in the air, and he was eighty feet in girth. His tail grew
in correspondence, till, seizing it, he gave it a twirl, and the point
struck in the bosom of a black cloud. As he had a right to do, Strap
complained of this injustice. Said he: ‘Foul Fiend, thou art no fair
man to ask me to fight with thee on unequal terms. If thou choosest
such terms, I brand thee villainous coward.’
“The Fiend looked down from his lofty stature, and with a voice that
confused all living things within a vast circumference, said: ‘Put
aside thy iron limb, thy mace, thy pestle, and I will accommodate me to
thy size. Skin for skin!’ Strap tossed his pestle aside, whereat the
Fiend commenced shrinking, and ceased not to shrink till he had
shrunken to Strap’s size—all save his tail, which still remained
hitched in the bosom of the cloud. He now took position before Strap in
the attitude of a boxer, and Strap took position before him in the same
attitude. He kept his eye on Strap, and Strap kept his eye on him,
either guarding against any advantage or cheat by the other. The Fiend
now drew back for a pass at Strap, but just at that moment the black
cloud in which his tail was hitched was rapidly passing beyond its
length, and it drew the Devil backwards and upwards with great force,
causing him exceeding great pain at the point of its juncture with the
body. Now had Strap but used the advantage which offered itself to him,
what infinite fame would be his. Instead of this, under a false sense
of honor, and in the kindness of his heart, he proffered the Fiend
assistance to unhitch his tail! The Devil leaped up in the air and
rolled himself up in the coils of his tail till he had reached the
cloud, and there, with the help of claws and hoofs and horns, succeeded
at last in unhitching it. Immediately, back he sprang, and stood before
Strap in the attitude of a boxer.
“The battle raged with varying fortunes all day, till the Devil grew
again to monstrous size, and at last wore Strap out on the unequal
terms, till the mighty champion sought quarter, crestfallen and utterly
overcome. The country for a great circuit round rang with the hideous
noise of battle, and Bob Turket and Bill Smotherall and forty Indian
braves stood on the bank of the river and hearkened to it, amazed. As
night fell they saw a great gray horse riding through the air down the
valley, with the dread form of a red monkey astride his back in front,
and the form of an overpowered man dangling across him behind. The
horse and riders lit on the top of yon cedar-covered mountain that
looks down upon La Grange from the north, and then all disappeared in
the forest. On the spot of the dread encounter no earth has ever
accumulated, and no green grass or tree has ever grown there since; but
it remains, and will forever remain, in black deformity.