Bang! The bullet soared away high over the tops of the trees in the wood, and once more the sergeant recoiled before his impetuous antagonist. He began to wish that he had fired first and made inquiries afterwards.
‘Surrender, you fool!’ he hissed through his clenched teeth; ‘that shot will bring a hundred men down upon you.’
For answer, Ephraim cocked his own rifle and fired. There was a slight fizzle as the cap snapped, but no report. The various uses to which the rifle had been put that day had not improved its quality as a ‘shooting-iron,’ and the powder was thoroughly wet.
The rifles were the old-fashioned, muzzle-loading pattern. There was no time to reload, and like lightning Ephraim rushed forward to renew the attack.
Then began a battle royal. Sergeant Mason was a strong man, and knew the use of his weapon; but the Grizzly was a living instance of the truth of the saying, that a man who knows nothing of rule will very often puzzle an expert. So it was now, as Ephraim, fired with unaccustomed fury, lunged and thrust, parried and recovered, or swept his bayonet in narrowing circles round his antagonist’s head, to the utter mystification of Mason, accustomed to the one, two, three of the regulations.
Clink! clank! rattle! crash! The sharp steel met and parted, parted and met again. The fighters could but just distinguish each other in the gloom, even as they stood now with bayonets locked, breathing hard in anticipation of the next rally.
Clank! The sergeant disengaged, and lunged straight and swiftly out. The bayonet passed under the Grizzly’s left arm; but he brushed it aside with a wild swirl of his rifle, and thrust in return so close to the sergeant’s heart, that but half an inch further would have settled the question for good and all.
Mason sprang backwards just in time, now hotly pressed by the furious Grizzly. Here was a foeman of a temper he had not bargained for when he made that light arrest.
‘Help!’ he roared at the top of his voice. ‘A spy! a spy! Over hyar by the ditch.’
Clank! clank! clink! clink! Fierce thrust and sudden parry. Another fiery rally. This time the sergeant felt the wind of Ephraim’s bayonet past his neck, and a hot spurt of breath upon his face, as the Grizzly, almost overbalanced by his frenzied rush, stumbled forward.