to
every effort, tried hard with obstinate endeavour to untwist the hands
that held him firmly locked. It was beautiful play to see the mute
hands of both the wrestlers feeling, tearing, twisting at each other,
but the grasp was too firm, and, taking advantage of a momentary
movement, Roopnarain got his elbow under the other's chin, then
leaning forward, he pressed his opponent's head backward, and the
strain began to tell. He fought fiercely, he struggled hard, but the
determined elbow was not to be baulked, and to save himself from an
overthrow the blacksmith was forced to relax his hold, and sprang
nimbly back beyond reach, to mature another attack. Roopnarain quietly
walked round, rubbed his shoulders with earth, and with the same
mocking smile, stood leaning forward, his hands on his knees, waiting
for a fresh onset.

This time the young fellow was more cautious. He found he had no
novice to deal with, and the Brahmin was not at all anxious to
precipitate matters. By a splendid feint, after some pretty sparring
for a grip, the youngster again succeeded in getting a hold on the
Brahmin, and wheeling round quick as lightning, got behind Roopnarain,
and with a dexterous trip threw the tall man heavily on his face. He
then tried to get him by the ankle, and bending his leg up backwards,
he would have got a purchase for turning him on his back. The old man
was, however, 'up to this move.' He lay extended flat on his chest,
his legs wide apart. As often as the little one bent down to grasp his
ankle, he would put out a hand stealthily, and silently as a snake,
and endeavour to get the little man's leg in his grasp. This
necessitated a change of position, and round and round they spun, each
trying to get hold of the other by the leg or foot. The blacksmith got
his knee on the neck of the Brahmin, and by sheer strength tried
several times with a mighty heave to turn his opponent. It was no use,
however, it is next to impossible to throw a man when he is lying flat
out as the Brahmin now was. It is difficult enough to turn the dead
weight of a man in that position, and when he is straining every nerve
to resist the accomplishment of your object it becomes altogether
impracticable. The excitement in the crowd was intense. The very
drummer--I ought to call him a tom-tomer--had ceased to beat his
tom-tom. Pat's lips were firmly pressed together, and K. was trembling
with suppressed excitement. The heaving chests and profuse