“Humph! it is my duty; pass on.”
Ned waited with Pylea to see the other chariots go through. As they did so, the native amazon looked at each one keenly.
“Stop!” she cried, as Cocoeni was passing; “this is the man I have chosen to fight with. Step forth and let me look at you.”
“Get out and satisfy the captain, Cocoeni,” said Ned. “Show your muscles, and be quick about it.”
Cocoeni rose, nothing loth, and stalked up to the side of the amazon. She turned him round, feeling his biceps critically, as an intending purchaser might examine a horse. Standing side by side, their heads were on a level, a splendid pair as to height and breadth of shoulders. But the woman had seen more than thirty summers, whereas Cocoeni was her junior by many years.
“You are a fine fellow, yet I think I can throw you,” she said, while her black eyes sparkled with admiration. “Will you try once with me now?”
“Shall I, baas?”
“Yes,” answered Ned. “Get her on the other side of the gate, over by the green bank, while we all pass through. Then, don’t waste any time, grip her quick and pitch her into the lake, if you can. It will create a diversion.”
He gave these instructions, in English; then, turning to the warlike dame, he said mildly in her language—
“The lord Cocoeni will take up your offer, brave lady; but as I have no desire to see either of you hurt on the hard stones, and so spoil our sport when the day comes, I fix upon yonder soft sward as the ground. One throw only.”