The field for fighting formed four corners: Lions to the north, Hippos to the south, Elephants to the east, and Whales were confined to the west. Schamah sat on the southern side of her throne, where she could easily keep her eyes on everything. Guewerdschina the mule served as her throne, the most protected place that remained on that site. Musicians sat in the corner: a jar-drum, a tambourine, trumpets, and a fipple flute. If Thar were wrestled to the ground, they were supposed to make the loudest possible clamor. With the victory never tipping to their side, the Hebronite musicians had no chance to play their instruments.
They had chosen their strongest athletes. The competition’s rules were very simple: the loser would be whoever was thrown to the ground in the first three beast- matches. The battle of the Whales would take place in the fountain. The winner had to dunk his opponent, then publicly spew a mouth full of water in his face. Before the matches began, the Four Heroes of Hebron were asked whether they wanted to withdraw their names from the competition. “For no amount of money!” they replied.
Secretary of State Abdullah then gave the signal for the battle of the Lions to begin. The Lion of Hebron stepped forward. He was the same tall, robust boy who first gave a speech. When he saw all eyes turn towards him, his face took on an overly confident expression.
Thar stood beside us: “Watch carefully! See how quickly this happens. The main thing is to give your enemy no time to think.” He then stepped into the ring, bowed to Schamah, and positioned himself squarely in front of his foe. No doubt he had learned this knightly behavior from hearing some legend, or from some fairy tale. Abdullah now clapped his hands three times. In the blink of an eye, it happened. When his opponent hesitated, Thar lunged. He let him come quite close, then sprang to the side as he clenched the boy from behind and completely buckled him under. Just as he had wrestled old Eppstein down to the ground, he firmly held the young Hebron Lion as he called out to the musicians: “Now you can sound your notes of triumph for him!” Of course, they were silent. The loser slowly stood up; with his head lowered, he slinked away.
Next came the Battle of the Elephants. The opponent was a cumbersome guy who seemed to have twice the strength as our boy possessed. With a smile, Thar gave a nod to us. That was a good sign. He had told us how those in the Elephant Club had to do their trampling in unison. First here, then suddenly over there, he didn’t simply take the kid down—he bounced him to the ground. When Abdullah gave the signal, Thar powerfully launched forward, swung himself upward, and simply sprang over that heap of a foe. In an instant, he put his knees upon the boy and called out to the musicians: “Loudly, loudly, now play your song of triumph for him!” All around, stillness reigned.
Only Secretary of State Abdullah angrily called out: “Oh my, two are already down. This is not acceptable. Let our Hippo come forth, and he will stomp him into the ground. The Hippo was a short, thick rascal who was not endowed with muscles, just a lot of fat. Fearlessly, he rolled his eyes; he had good courage. As the time drew nearer for the start of the match, he put his head down like a runner. Letting out a colossal hoo-ha, the Hebron Monster then lay down on the ground and stretched his legs into the air. He held his head with both hands and bellowed as if someone were planning to roast him on a grill. Thar just stood there erect; with a laugh, he teased the musicians: “You guys don’t need to play your drums nor blow your horns, because he’s making his own music.”
Now the giants of the ocean would show what they could do. The former four sides of the ring now collapsed. Everyone headed to the deep well, wherein the final judgment was supposed to take place. Thar was the first to arrive at the cistern; he stood ready to descend into the water. The Hebronites came less quickly. Slowest of them all were the Whales. The very last one to arrive was the guy that was supposed to fight with Thar. With a very embarrassed look on his face, he came to the brink of the well, then looked away as he said: “I don’t want this job anymore!” Abdullah responded: “You’ve already accepted the position, so you must go through with it!” As the boy turned and hurried away, he called out: “Not for any amount of money! I’m leaving!”
“So, we must choose someone else!” said Abdullah. From out of the throats of the remaining Whales, this chorus rang out: “You couldn’t pay me enough money! I’m going—I’m leaving—I’m out of here!” One after another, they disappeared, until there were no more to be seen—except one in the distance. Without saying “adieu,” the Lions followed those who had already left. In much the same way, the Hippos and the musicians made the same kind of exit. Most of the Elephants ambled off in single file, but some left in twos and threes. Without saying a word or grudgingly waving good-bye, the adults finally rode away.
Thar turned towards Schamah: “Now do you believe that I’m a hero?” She handed him the Canterbury-bells: “From the very beginning, I believed you. You’ve won, so here are your flowers.” He accepted the prize, then he gave the bouquet to my wife, asking her to take care of them; she could do this better than he would.
In the distance, we now saw another considerably large procession, and it looked like it was coming our way. With their sharply trained eyes, our adversaries had already seen this approaching caravan. For that reason, they hurried away. They didn’t want their disgrace to be discovered by the incoming crowd. We too no longer had a reason to stay, because the time was drawing nearer for us to move on and keep our appointment to meet Mustafa Bustani. Schamah’s mother said that she and her daughter were headed towards The Oak of Abraham; from there, they wanted to travel to the Russian Hospice and spend the night. The Arabic widow had heard that penniless pilgrims could stay there free-of-charge. Our friendly Donkey Driver declared that the mother and daughter didn’t have to walk that distance; since his return to the city would be the same route that they were traveling, they could ride with him.