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?"