“ ‘What might thy name be,’ said Strap, ‘who visitest me at this unseemly hour? Speak! thy name and thy business!’
“ ‘Sir,’ said the object, rising from the chair, extracting its tail from the mantel-piece, and advancing a step toward Strap, ‘men [[127]]call me by many names. Thou hast called me “black imp of hell, thou Satanas!” So be it. Skin for skin! Thou hast thrice challenged me to duel, and thrice have I accepted. I have come to meet thee now, or to fling thy challenge into thy teeth.’
“He seized his tail in his right hand, and held it like a javelin about to be thrust. Strap gazed upon this singular instrument, and meditatively spake: ‘Good Sir Devil, take a seat. Wouldst thou attack a gentleman in his cups? None but a thief and coward would do that. Put thy prolongation away, I prithee. Leave me to my sleep and restoration, and I will meet thee man to man. Tomorrow morning at nine o’clock will I meet thee.’
“The Devil advanced again, saying: ‘Give us thy hand, Strap Buckner; skin for skin: tomorrow morn at nine o’clock, under yon oaks that overlook thy dwelling from the south.’ They shook hands heartily. ‘Now,’ said he, ‘will I leave thee to sleep and restoration. Truly, he hath neither courage nor honor who would attack a gentleman in his cups.’
“The Devil then stepped toward the door. Strap moved forward to unbar it and let him out, but the Devil made a bound for the key-hole, and passed through, tail and all, in the twinkling of an eye. As he did so he filled the room with a strong odor of brimstone. The champion burned a few cotton rags to deodorize the room, and then sat quietly by his table and ate a hearty repast of hoe-cake and bacon. Afterward he walked his cabin an hour to promote digestion.
The Day of Events
“Day had dawned, but its light struggled almost in vain with the storm which held carnival in the valley. Strap arose refreshed and vigorous. He breakfasted on the remnants of the hoe-cake and bacon of the night’s repast. The merry jug stood near, but he turned away from it with a look of reproach. Donning his garment of buckskin, he said: ‘The hour arrives!’ Then taking his iron limb in his right hand, the only aid he asked from art, this matchless hero stepped out into the storm, called his swift nag, and rode away to war.
“He had advanced but a few paces when the Infernal Fiend, in the form of a skinny, ugly dwarf, appeared before him, dancing a jig, but he did not make the insulting sign of derision. He bowed politely and said: ‘Hail to thee, Strap Buckner! I see [[128]]that thou art a man of honor. Receive my obeisance to a man of courage! I will lead and thou wilt follow.’
“ ‘I dare follow where the Foul Fiend leadeth,’ said Strap. And both moved onward through the storm, the Fiend in advance. A white flame of lightning illuminated the valley, and when Strap looked again the Fiend had disappeared, but an enormous bull, black as night, strode before him. ‘Ah,’ said Strap, ‘this is my old friend Noche, I perceive. How is thy frontlet, Noche? Hast thou had the screw worms picked out of thy wounds? Better betake thee to a pretty, protected nook, and eat cowslips and make calves for an honest milk-maid.’ Again the blinding lightning came, and when Strap recovered his sight, Noche had departed; in his stead the Fiend in stately form marched before him.