ls.

The former had his bow in hand ready to shoot, and he pointed the arrow
at the maidens alternately; they, utterly unconcerned about his weapon,
were pressing him with weapons of their own, which he was much more
anxious to avoid than they his missiles. These were two pairs of very
dirty hands filled and covered with liquid mud with which the damsels
attempted to decorate his person. Okoya was clearly on the defensive,
and the advantage so far seemed on the side of his aggressors. Shyuote
flew to his assistance. Rushing to a large vessel of burnt clay,
standing alongside the wall and filled with water, he plunged both hands
into it, and began to bespatter the assailants with the not very clean
liquid. Forthwith one of the girls turned against the new enemy. She was
older and taller than Shyuote. Seizing his raven locks she pulled him to
the ground on his face, knelt on the prostrate form, and then and there
gave the boy a series of energetic cuffs against which the youngster
struggled and wriggled in the most desperate but absolutely ineffectual
manner. The fair sex held the balance of power and wielded it. At every
attempt of Shyuote to rise or to roll over, she pushed his face back
into the moist ground, she pulled his hair, thumped his shoulders, and
boxed his ears. She was in earnest, and Shyuote was powerless in her
firm grasp. He could not even scream, for a thick coating of soil had
fastened itself to his features, had penetrated into eye, mouth, and
nostrils. His fate was as melancholy as it was ludicrous; it brought
about a truce between Okoya and the other maiden. They dropped, he the
weapon, she her muddy arms, and looked at the other set of combatants
with surprise and with immoderate laughter. The Indian is not
tender-hearted on such occasions. When the victorious beauty at last
arose, suffering her victim to turn over again, the merriment became
uproarious, for Shyuote presented the appearance of a blowing, spitting,
coughing, statue of dirt. His looks were in no manner improved by his
frenzy after the boy had rubbed his eyes, and recovered his breath.
Tears of rage rolled down his cheeks over patches of sand and mud, and
when he noticed the mirth of the others Shyuote's fury knew no bounds.
He rushed madly at the triumphant lass, who did not shrink from the
hostile approach. The contest was threatening to assume serious
proportions, when another person appeared upon the scene, at the sight
of whom eve