Rapt with the enchantment of the season, and the scenery around me, I was slowly rising the slope, when I was startled by loud, profane, and boisterous voices, which seemed to proceed from a thick covert of undergrowth about two hundred yards in the advance of me and about one hundred to the right of my road:
“You kin, kin you?”
“Yes, I kin, and am able to do it! Bo—oo—oo! Oh, wake snakes, and walk your chalks! Brimstone and fire! don’t hold me, Nick Stoval! The fight’s made up, and let’s go at it. My soul, if I don’t jump down his throat and gallop every chitterling out of him before you can say ‘quit!’ ”
“Now, Nick, don’t hold him. Jist let the wild cat come, and I’ll tame him. Ned’ll see me a fair fight, won’t you Ned?”
“Oh yes, I’ll see a fair fight, blame my old shoes if I don’t.”
“That is sufficient, as Tom Haynes said when he saw the elephant. Now let him come!”
Thus they went on, with countless oaths interspersed, which I dare not even hint at, and with much that I could not distinctly hear.
“In mercy’s name,” thought I, “what band of ruffians has selected this holy season and this heavenly retreat for such Pandemonian riots?”
I quickened my gait, and had come nearly opposite to the thick grove whence the noise proceeded, when my eye caught indistinctly and at intervals, through the foliage of the dwarf oaks and hickories which intervened, glimpses of a man or men who seemed to be in a violent struggle, and I could occasionally catch those deep-drawn emphatic oaths which men in conflict utter when they deal blows. I dismounted, and hurried to the spot with all speed. I had overcome about half the space which separated it from me, when I saw the combatants come to the ground, and after a short struggle, I saw the uppermost one (for I could not see the other) make a heavy plunge with both his thumbs, and at the same instant I heard a cry:
“Enough! my eye’s out!”