“Ha!” exclaimed Joe Blunt to the Indians near him, “the lad’s not used to that game, try him at a race. Bring out your best brave—he whose bound is like the hunted deer.”
We need scarcely remind the reader that Joe spoke in the Indian language, and that the above is a correct rendering of the sense of what he said.
The name of Tarwicadia, or the little chief, immediately passed from lip to lip, and in a few minutes an Indian, a little below the medium size, bounded into the arena with an indiarubber-like elasticity that caused a shade of anxiety to pass over Joe’s face.
“Ah, boy!” he whispered, “I’m afeared you’ll find him a tough customer.”
“That’s just what I want,” replied Dick. “He’s supple enough, but he wants muscle in the thigh. We’ll make it a long heat.”
“Right, lad, yer right.”
Joe now proceeded to arrange the conditions of the race with the chiefs around him. It was fixed that the distance to be run should be a mile, so that the race would be one of two miles, out and back. Moreover, the competitors were to run without any clothes, except a belt and a small piece of cloth round the loins. This to the Indians was nothing, for they seldom wore more in warm weather, but Dick would have preferred to keep on part of his dress. The laws of the course, however, would not permit of this, so he stripped and stood forth, the beau-ideal of a well-formed, agile man. He was greatly superior in size to his antagonist, and more muscular, the savage being slender and extremely lithe and springy.
“Hah! I will run too,” shouted Henri, bouncing forward with clumsy energy, and throwing off his coat just as they were going to start.
The savages smiled at this unexpected burst and made no objection, considering the thing in the light of a joke.
The signal was given, and away they went. Oh! it would have done you good to have seen the way in which Henri manoeuvred his limbs on this celebrated occasion! He went over the ground with huge elephantine bounds, runs, and jumps. He could not have been said to have one style of running; he had a dozen styles, all of which came into play in the course of half as many minutes. The other two ran like the wind; yet, although Henri appeared to be going heavily over the ground, he kept up with them to the turning point. As for Dick, it became evident in the first few minutes that he could outstrip his antagonist with ease, and was hanging back a little all the time. He shot ahead like an arrow when they came about half-way back, and it was clear that the real interest of the race was to lie in the competition between Henri and Tarwicadia.