The first encounter was a club-fight between two warriors. Nor casque of steel, nor skull of Congo could have resisted their blows, had they fallen upon the mark; for they seemed bent upon driving each other, as stakes, into the earth. Presently, one of them faltered; but his adversary rushing in to cleave him down, slipped against a guavarind; when the falterer, with one lucky blow, high into the air sent the stumbler’s club, which descended upon the crown of a spectator, who was borne from the plain.
“All one,” muttered Pike.
“As good dead as another,” muttered Hello.
The second encounter was a hugging-match; wherein two warriors, masked in Grisly-bear skins, hugged each other to death.
The third encounter was a bumping-match between a fat warrior and a dwarf. Standing erect, his paunch like a bass-drum before a drummer, the fat man was run at, head-a-tilt by the dwarf, and sent spinning round on his axis.
The fourth encounter was a tussle between two-score warriors, who all in a mass, writhed like the limbs in Sebastioni’s painting of Hades. After obscuring themselves in a cloud of dust, these combatants, uninjured, but hugely blowing, drew off; and separately going among the spectators, rehearsed their experience of the fray.
“Braggarts!” mumbled Piko.
“Poltroons!” growled Hello.
While the crowd were applauding, a sober-sided observer, trying to rub the dust out of his eyes, inquired of an enthusiastic neighbor, “Pray, what was all that about?”
“Fool! saw you not the dust?”