78.—Bendy, after some dodging, delivered his right heavily on Caunt’s body, and got down. It was a fearful smack.
79.—Caunt led off with his left; Bendy ducked to avoid; and in the close both were down. Bendy was too cunning to allow his opponent the chance of the throw.
80.—Bendy made his favourite sly hit with his left on Caunt’s smeller, and slipped down without the account being balanced. “Time” was very inaccurately kept, a minute, instead of half that time, being frequently allowed. [The blame was alternately in each corner; the seconds continuing their attentions to their men, heedless of the call of the holder of the watch.—Ed.]
81.—Bendy again displayed symptoms of fatigue, and was tenderly nursed. On coming to the scratch, however, he planted his left on Caunt’s carcase, and slipped down.
82.—Caunt led off. Bendy retreated to the ropes, and fell backwards stopping, but instantly jumped up to recommence hostilities, when Caunt literally ran away across the ring, with his head down, Bendigo after him, hitting him on the back of his neck. At length Caunt reached his corner, and in the scramble which followed, and in which Caunt seemed to have lost his presence of mind, both went down, amidst contemptuous shouts at the imputed pusillanimity of the Champion.
83.—Bendy, on the retreat, hit up; Caunt returned the compliment on Bendy’s mouth with his left, and on Bendy attempting to get down he caught him round the neck with undiminished strength, pulled him up, threw him over, and fell heavily on him.
84.—Bendy, on being lifted on his second’s knee, showed blood from the mouth, and was certainly shaken by the last fall; still he came up boldly, but cautiously. Caunt rattled to him left and right, but he retreated towards the stake, which Caunt caught with his right as he let fly at him, and Bendy slipped down, receiving a body tap as he fell.
85.—Caunt rushed to his man, but Bendy, on his attempting to close, got down, unwilling to risk another heavy fall. He was obviously getting fatigued from his exertions and the excessive heat of the sun.
The uproar was now greater than ever; the referee was driven into the ring,[8] and the roaring and bawling in favour of Bendigo and in contempt of Caunt were beyond description. We [Ed. Bell’s Life] were overwhelmed again and again, and were with difficulty extracted from a pyramid of our fellow-men by the welcome aid of Jack Macdonald, our togs torn, and our tile quite shocking. The exertions of Jem Ward and others enabled them to restore the referee to his position, but he was evidently in a twitter, and the whips and sticks often reached within an inch of his “castor,” while they fell heavily on the nobs of some of his neighbours. Several “Corinthians,” who endeavoured to brave the storm, were involved in the general mêlée, and had sufficient reason to be disgusted with the conduct of the parties towards whom they are always disposed to vouchsafe their patronage, and who, as we have already said, with few exceptions, looked on inactive. [These observations are coloured, and form part of the “manipulation” undergone by the “report,” as revised under the suggestions and supervision of the Caunt and Spring party. The ruin of their confident hopes was impending.—Ed.]
86.—The Nottingham hero came up nothing daunted, but with an evident determination to continue to play the old soldier. Caunt, as usual, evinced a desire to get to his opponent, but the latter jumped away, and waiting his opportunity threw in his left heavily on the big’un’s eye, and, in escaping from the retort, slipped down.