[CHAPTER XXXIII.]
The next afternoon we were all assembled on a small plain outside the town. Cheetoo had spread his carpet after the manner of a Pindharee, and sat with his chiefs around him, promising by his demeanour to be an eager spectator of the encounter. He was remarkably civil to me, and asked me to sit by him until a few men, who were ready, had displayed their dexterity and prowess. On the signal being given by him, two stout Rajpoots leaped into the circle, and clattered their sticks on each other's shield for some time without either touching the other.
"Does this please you?" said Cheetoo to me. "Those fellows are good hands, you see, at their weapons: neither would have drawn blood had they had swords in their hands."
"They are expert enough," said I; "but methinks they have played together before, and know each other's ways; they make a great show; but, if I may be pardoned, I think neither has much real skill. If my lord wishes, I will try either of them."
"Take care you are not overmatched," said he: "I would not have your fair fame sullied. You have already interested me much in your behalf."
"Do not fear for me," said I; "I will do my best."
I stripped myself to my trousers, and girding a handkerchief tightly about my waist, I stepped into the circle, where one of the men, who had now rested from his first encounter, awaited me. I took a stick and a small shield made of basket-work from Peer Khan, who had brought them, and advanced to the centre. There were murmurs among the assembly that I was overmatched, for they contrasted my slight form with the tall and brawny one of my antagonist; but I was not to be deterred by this. I knew my skill, and that mere personal strength would avail but little against it.
"How is it to be?" said I to the Rajpoot. "Does the first fair blow decide between us?"
"Certainly," he replied. "I shall strike hard, so be on your guard."
"Good," said I; "now take your post."