AMERICA VERSUS AMERICA.
Terence Clark gathered himself for another rush and blow at the
Shawanoe, when the latter with a quickness which the eye of Fred Linden
could hardly follow, ducked under the arm of the Irish lad and again
struck him a resounding blow with the flat of the hand, first on one
side of the face and then on the other. Terry wheeled and returned the
blows with skill. Once his hand grazed the black hair that was dangling
about Deerfoot's head, and several times he touched the nodding
feathers, but strive as much as he might, he could not reach the fellow
himself.
Now that the combat may be said to have opened, it went through to the
end without halt or break. Here, there, everywhere dodged and struck the
Shawanoe, while Terry was always just too late to catch him. Deerfoot
might have inflicted considerable injury upon his plucky antagonist, had
he struck him with his closed hand, but he always used his open palm.
Some of the blows resounded like pistol shots. Having delivered all that
he wished, Deerfoot doubled up his left hand so that only the index
finger was extended. With this he punched the right and left ribs of
Terry, then his chest, and then actually flipped each side of his nose,
easily dodging the blows which the half angered Irish lad aimed at him
in return.
Suddenly Terry turned his back on his foe and deliberately struck
several times at vacancy. Then he dropped his hands and walked back by
the fire, saying, with a shake of his head:
"I've enough! ye could bate the divil and his uncle."
Fred Linden was sitting on the ground shaking with laughter. He had not
seen any thing for a long time that pleased him so much. He had observed
Terry in more than one fight with the boys at home and he knew he was an
ugly customer, as full of grit as a bull dog, but the Shawanoe struck
him fully a dozen times, while the Irish lad with all his skill
desperately put forth never once touched him. The discomfiture of the
brave Irish lad was complete.
No witness of the bout, however, could have failed to admire the skill
and pluck of Terry. He acquitted himself well and kept up the struggle,
even after he was convinced that he could do nothing with his alert
antagonist. Then, when Deerfoot began to trifle with him, he turned
around as I have shown and struck the empty air.
"Why did you do that?" asked Fred, as the three stood by the fire
discussing the incident.
Terry passed his open hand over his cheeks, which were red and smarting
from the sharp taps of Deerfoot, and closing one eye and scratching his
head, made answer:
"I had been sthrikin' at Deerfut until I obsarved that ivery time I
sthruck _at_ him I didn't hit him; so thinks I to mesilf, I will see
whither I can hit him by tryin' not to hit him; so I sthruck where I
knowed he wasn't, thinkin' he was there."
"Well, I must declare Deerfoot the winner."
"I can't deny that he is; I throw up the sponge and extind to him the
best wishes for himself and family."
Smiling in a way that left no doubt of his relish of the incident,
Deerfoot warmly shook the hand of his friend, whose brave fight had
increased his admiration of him.
"My brother is brave," said he admiringly; "perhaps he can lay Deerfoot
on his back; Deerfoot will rejoice if he can do so."
"Be the powers! but that suits me," exclaimed the delighted Terry; "I
forgot we were to have a wrestling match; Fred, ye will be koind enough
to sarve as riferee again; we'll take side holts and it'll be the bist
two out of thraa."
Terry was warranted in feeling more confidence in this test of skill. He
had failed--as he knew he would always fail--in a sparring contest, for
the reason that Deerfoot was so quick that he could not touch him; but
one of the necessities of a wrestling match is that the contestants
shall first seize each other. Terry believed that he had as much
physical strength as Deerfoot, and if he once got a fair hold, he would
not let go until he downed him.
Terry being right and Deerfoot left handed, each was able to secure his
most effective grip. So, standing side by side, in the old fashioned
style, with a dusky left arm around the white neck and a white arm
around the dusky neck, they began the struggle.
In this match, as before, Deerfoot allowed his antagonist to dally with
him awhile before he took the aggressive. Passing him over his hip Terry
gave Deerfoot such a violent fling that a pang of fear shot through him,
lest he had broken the Shawanoe's neck; but though he shot headlong out
of the grasp of the Irish lad, the Shawanoe landed lightly on his feet
and instantly leaped back and closed with Terry again.
"I'll fetch ye this time," he muttered between his compressed lips; "ye
shan't git out of me hands till ye's down flat on yer back and mesilf
layin' a-straddle of ye. There's a difference between boxin' and
sparrin' and I shall taich ye the same, as me grandmither--"
Both went down that instant, but the Shawanoe was on top. His
antagonist could not have fallen flatter had he been dropped from the
roof of a house.
"Mark the first fall for Deerfut," called out Terry, hastily clambering
to his feet, the Shawanoe extending his hand to help.
This result weakened the confidence of the Irish lad in himself, that
is, so far as concerned his opponent. He reflected that many of the
Indians are skillful wrestlers, and while Deerfoot had had no training
in boxing, he had in the other art. Such a cool headed athlete would be
sure to learn fast. Terry recognized the peculiar flirt by which he had
been turned off his feet as the very trick he had played successfully on
his playmates at home, but which he never dreamed was known to Deerfoot.
The Irish lad tried every possible lock, twist and turn upon his rival,
but he could not get him off his feet. It seemed to Terry that he
whirled in the air when almost on the ground, and that if he had been
dropped head downwards from the height of a rod, he would alight on his
feet.
Fred saw Deerfoot, who was carefully watching his antagonist, smile,
and he knew what was coming. So deftly that, for the life of him, the
spectator could not see how it was done, Terry went over again as "flat
as a flounder." Not only that, but to the astonishment of the victim as
well as of the witness, the Shawanoe remained erect, so that he
literally flung his antagonist to the ground and looked smilingly down
upon him.
"Ye can baat the baaters," exclaimed Terry, rising to his feet, and
shaking hands with his victor. "I niver met any one who could down me in
that sthyle. I don't know how ye did the same, but I haven't any doubts
that ye done it, as me great uncle remarked whin the cannon ball took
off his head."
With the same shadowy smile Deerfoot looked inquiringly at Fred Linden.
"Deerfoot thinks maybe his brother would be glad to lay him on the
ground?"
"I'll be hanged if I don't try it," laughed Fred, springing to his feet,
and instantly but cautiously closing arms with the graceful warrior.
"My brother can not throw Deerfoot," said the latter; "but the heart of
Deerfoot would be glad if he would tell him how he would like to
fall--on his shoulders, or side, or back."
"I wouldn't like to fall at all; but if you think you can get me on my
shoulders, just try it; that's all."
"It shall be as my brother wishes."
The words seemed yet in the mouth of Deerfoot when Fred felt himself
sailing through space, and the next instant he landed on his shoulders
with a shock that Terry declared made the ground shake.
As before, Deerfoot himself did not fall, but looked smilingly down on
his prostrate friend as he began climbing to his feet again.
"Now, if my brother wishes to fall on his back, it shall be so."
"I've little doubt that you will not do just as you say you will; I only
ask that you wait till I say I am ready; you did the last before I had
time to prepare."
"Ye bitter not ax him to wait," said Terry, who rolled over on the
ground in the exuberance of his mirth, at the sight of his big friend
going down before the lithe, willowy Shawanoe; "for since he's bound to
do what he says, the sooner ye are out of yer suspinse, the sooner ye'll
be out of it."
"Be kind enough to attend to your own affairs," said Fred stiffly;
"Deerfoot and I are running this show."
"It looks as if Deerfut had charge of the whole of it," was the comment
of Terry, who broke into laughter again; "and whin he is done ye'll
agraa with me."
Once more the arms passed over each other's neck. Fred resolved that
whatever came, he would not be taken by surprise this time. He was
stronger than Terry and he had thrown him more than once. He could not
understand, therefore, why he should not at least give the Shawanoe a
struggle. He braced his feet, with every muscle strained, and every
faculty on the alert.
"I am ready," said he; "do your best."
"On which side shall Deerfoot throw his brother?"
"On my right side, and as hard as you can."
Now, you will see the difficulty of the task, for Fred had his right arm
tightly locked over the neck of Deerfoot, so that that side was guarded
by the body of the warrior himself. It would seem, that if Fred should
fall on either side it could only be on the left. Manifestly if it
should be the right, the Shawanoe could not go down with him. He must
bring him to the ground and escape from beneath him before he fell.
He did it. For a second or two the contestants stood motionless. Then,
like a flash, Deerfoot slipped from the grasp of his friend, dropped
down in a stooping posture almost to the earth, holding the right hand
of Fred firmly with his left (this was to prevent him using that hand to
save himself), and then by a quick dart to the left, he carried both
feet of his opponent off the ground, and Fred fell squarely on his right
side, his conqueror straightening up as he went down.
"I would be obleeged," said Terry, throwing back his head with laughter,
"if yees will be koind enough to till me who is runnin' the show about
this time."
Fred was chagrined at the ease with which Deerfoot had overthrown him,
and it was not lessened by the honest compliment which the young warrior
gave to his skill. Both Fred and Terry had been pretty well jarred, for
they were downed with such amazing suddenness that it could not be
otherwise; but neither referred to it and they could only praise the
wonderful ability of their friend.
"I tell you," said Fred, seating himself on the ground beside the other
two, after the flurry was over, "all this proves that skill is worth
more than strength. I am quite sure that I am as strong as you,
Deerfoot, but I don't believe that Terry and I together could lay you on
your back. When I had my arm around your neck, I suspected you would try
to slip out, and I squeezed you pretty hard. You slid out so quickly
that at the moment you were down at my heels, I thought I had you fast."
"I'm thinkin' that the nixt thing we should try is a race; Fred can
outrun me and I'll agraa that he will outrun Deerfut, that is, if ye'll
allow me to make the conditions."
"What would they be?" asked Deerfoot, Looking gravely down upon his
friends.
"The race should be for a hundred yards, and Deerfut must give Fred
ninety-five yards start, though to make it sure enough, maybe it ought
to be ninety-six or siven."
"Then you would require about ninety-nine, according to the same
calculation," said Fred.
"Ye's are right," replied Terry, to whom it seemed that no athletic feat
was impossible for the Shawanoe; "nayther yersilf nor mesilf have a
right to be mintioned in the same day with him."