For a few seconds they stood with extended arms, warily regarding one another. Then Bruce made a plunge forward, and before the other could guard against it, he had caught him around the waist, under his arms.
Bruce had got the “underhold.”
The two were now locked in a close embrace, and for a few moments the big Gaspereaugian made tremendous efforts to throw his antagonist. But the efforts were unsuccessful. Bruce did not exert himself much, but quietly evaded the efforts of the other, and still held his adversary in an unrelaxing grasp.
The Gaspereaugians now began to look anxious. Bruce’s face was so calm, his action was so quiet, he seemed to make so little effort in spite of the immense exertions of his antagonist, that he appeared to show some vast reserve of strength in store, ready to be put forth at some sudden moment.
The Gaspereaugian was, in truth, a big, burly fellow, whose muscles had been developed by a life of hard labor on a farm; but he was slow, and clumsy, and ignorant of all skill in wrestling. Now, Bruce was an adept in almost every active sport; while his limbs were so admirably knit, and his muscular development was so splendid, that even on the score of brute strength he soon gave evidence that he overmatched the other; at the same time, he made it apparent that his strength was only half put forth. The Gaspereaugians grew more anxious every moment, while Arthur, Tom, and Phil, who had never for an instant doubted the result, felt their excitement increasing to an unendurable degree.
Bruce soon showed what his idea had been in these manoeuvres. He had now worked himself around, so that his back was towards the pool, and the Gaspereaugian had made one violent effort to push him in backwards. It was in vain. Bruce stood like a rock. Then suddenly, as the Gaspereaugian’s efforts slackened somewhat, Bruce flung his right arm around him lower down, and by one quick and tremendous effort of strength raised him up into the air. In an instant the fellow’s legs spun upward; he appeared to turn a back summerset, and then,—down he went, all sprawling, on his back, with his arms and legs extended wildly, straight into the pool!
"No sound of joy or sorrow
Arose from either bank,
But friends and foes, in dumb surprise,
With parted lips and straining eyes,
Stood gazing where he sank.”
Thus far the two prisoners had remained in confinement. They might easily have escaped; their hands were free, and no one was paying any attention to them, but they remained there. Solomon would not go till Bart led the way; and Bart was too tremendously excited by the struggle to think of moving. He stood there rooted to the spot, staring with intense interest. At last the end came, and as Bart saw the Gaspereaugian’s legs go tossing up, and saw him fall splashing into the pool, he touched Solomon, and, followed by him, he darted into the thick shrubbery. The basket of provisions stood there neglected; this Bart seized as he passed, and gave it to Solomon. After this they made a circuit to get to the camp.
Meanwhile the discomfited wrestler had scrambled to his feet in the pool of water, and stood for a time up to his waist, sputtering, blowing, and gasping for breath. The boys stood looking on; and Bruce watched him quietly, not knowing whether the struggle would be renewed or not. But the Gaspereaugian did not make any advances towards resuming the conflict. He himself had been foiled so completely in his most desperate efforts, and the tremendous strength of those arms which had raised him in the air and flung him into the pool was so formidable to his imagination, that he was not at all inclined for another trial. The one trial had sufficed. So he slouched off, with his sulky face bent down, and soon joined his crestfallen companions.
Scarcely had he joined them than a shout was heard near the camp. Bruce and the other boys turned, and, to their delight and surprise, saw Bart and Solomon, with the basket of provisions.
“Hurrah!” cried Arthur; “why, Bart, we were afraid you’d come to grief.”