Leaping Dog glared at his chief savagely, but said nothing.
A chorus of emphatic “Ughs!” of approval went up from the Indians around the circle. It was clear that they did not think their chief’s suspicions were altogether unjust.
As the two men met again the Indian was far more wary than on either of the other occasions. Nick Wharton, tired of his cautious feints, eventually had to rush in and grapple him.
He secured a good grip, but the redskin struggled stoutly, bringing all his tremendous strength to bear to overcome the old scout.
The men struggled backward and forward for more than two minutes, panting heavily. Now one, and now the other, would gain a slight advantage, only to lose it again in a moment.
Then Wharton thought of an old trick which he had often used in his youth. It was too old to be used with any good effect on an expert American wrestler, but it might be new to the redskin, whose style of wrestling was altogether different.
Putting forth all his strength, he started to push the Navaho backward, inch by inch, as if he meant to force him over to the ground, as he had done before.
Leaping Dog strained his muscles to resist this attempt, just as Wharton had expected he would do. The redskin was thus pushing forward with all his strength.
Suddenly the trapper stopped pushing and pulled him violently forward.