"This is what I propose, then; we will only fight with two inches, and for the first blood. Is that agreeable to you, my dear fellow?"
"I am at your orders; what you have proposed seems to me just, and I accept it."
"Well, if that is the case, let God protect the right."
Each of the adversaries seized his knife, so that the hand was placed just two inches from the point of the blade, preventing the steel from entering further. After having courteously bowed, they placed themselves on their guard, the body leaning forward, the legs apart and slightly bent, the left arm extended to parry, and the right hand, holding the knife, lightly resting on the right thigh.
The fight began.
The two brothers were expert in the management of the knife; they knew every movement, and dealt with extreme rapidity blow upon blow continually dodging one another.
The knife is not a weapon so easy to be managed as might at first be imagined. The Spanish-Americans have made a profound study of it, and none can equal them in the way in which they manage it. The weapon demands great suppleness of body, a wonderful rapidity of movement, and extreme quickness.
Two antagonists can fight a very long time without being wounded, thanks to the poncho—a shield whose wavy folds deaden the blows, and prevent them from reaching the body, completely sheltering the chest.
The two brothers appeared to have completely forgotten the friendship of which they had every now and then so much boasted, such deadly aim did they take, and with such force did they deal their blows.
All this time, notwithstanding the coolness which he feigned, Mataseis was deeply vexed by the very cause which had led to his taking a weapon in his hand. The shame of having thus been taken in the act of theft further increased his rage, and took from him, by blinding him with the hope of a prompt vengeance, the presence of mind necessary to sustain the fight without disadvantage.