“We are obliged to count five against the victors, since they lost their Priest of the Bow after their first move. Had they protected him, they would have won all possible points.”
Mingled cries of “Ho-ra! Ho-ra!” and “Bah! Bah! Bah!” greeted this announcement.
The Baggataway players next appeared, led by Setos, Alcamayn, Hanabusa, and ten gamy Azes, followed by Ben Hu Barabe with twelve athletic-looking Monbas. This was their national game, and Ben Hu Barabe felt a pardonable pride in his men as he led them into position.
At each end of the field were the goals, indicated by two poles twelve feet high and half as far apart. There was also a center pole of equal height mid-distant between the end goals. All were surmounted by flags.
Each of the players was armed with a stick flattened at the end, and the intention was to drive the rubber ball into goal between the enemy’s posts.
The Monbas defended, while the Azes attacked. A noisy, chattering, bantering, betting crowd surged up and down on each side of the players, piling up articles of every description as their respective sides seemed on the point of either winning or losing.
The attack and defense strained every nerve, keeping the twenty-four players constantly on the move. Here, a man races with another; there, he makes a prodigious throw up field; and, before any one knows what has happened the battle has been transferred, and the Azes stand fair to lose.
Alcamayn runs full against his antagonist, and both come to the ground together; while Setos fells his opponent by a sharp blow over the head. The fallen player is carried bleeding and unconscious from the field just as the Monbas rescue the ball, and send it with a triumphant shout through the goal which wins them the game.
“Foul! foul!” screamed the on-lookers. “The Azes shall not have a point. They play unfairly.”