The athletes on this occasion wore the costume of stage wrestlers, but the light jerseys of one half were crimson, the other yellow. After an exhausting and beautifully exciting combat the yellows were declared winners, but bouquets of splendid wild flowers from the mountains were handed by the ladies each to the champion she favoured, whether victor or vanquished. The giant surgeon and Jack Stormalong fought with naked claymores, and after a time the former received a scratch on the left shoulder. Blood ran over his shirt, but Kep was at hand, and speedily put matters to rights, and the combat was renewed. After a display that brought down the house, swords were lowered, the combatants saluted and retired. The battle was a drawn one.
Then came Cumberland and Glasgow.
The onlookers received them with rapturous applause and admiration of their splendid formation and muscle. Theirs was claymore and targe, and after a short spell of this, with defiant shout each athlete dashed claymore and targe away, and crouched like panthers watching for the chance to spring.
It was catch where you can wrestling, but Donald Dinnie rules, that is, one man must not only throw his opponent, but keep him down for one minute. The struggle lasted for sixteen minutes, and Cumberland was victor.
Scotland stood with arms folded across the chest grimly surveying his friendly foe.
The doctor approached to where the Admiral and his two daughters were seated.
"They want to have one more tulzie," he said, saluting.
"Only one then, whoever wins," said the Admiral.
Ten minutes more, and Scotland stood erect. Cumberland was carried off the deck.
He had only been put to sleep, and soon recovered.