"I hardly think the desert could have been larger where Moses kept the Jewish people wandering for forty years!"
"You must know best, you are always poring over the Bible!"
"Still, though the Hortobágy be so large, there is not room enough on it for both you and me."
"Then let us rid it of one of us!"
With that they caught up their cudgels, two oak saplings from the Csát forest, the club end heavily loaded.
Each went to his horse. Cowboys do not fight on foot. When the girl returned from the house, both were in the saddle.
After that no word was spoken. Silently turning their backs on each other, one went right, one left, as if flying before the approaching storm. When there was about two hundred paces between them, they glanced back simultaneously, and turned their horses. Then swinging their cudgels, both lads put spurs in their horses, and rushed at each other.
This is the duel of the puszta.
It is not as easy as it looks. Fighting with swords on horseback is an art, but the sword where it strikes inflicts a wound not easily forgotten. He who wields the cudgel must aim his blow for the one instant when his galloping steed meets his opponent's. There is no parrying possible, no thrusting aside of the stroke. Who strikes truest wins the day.