et again, they began to perform a
war-dance round each other, revolving their fists at the same time in,
we presume, the most approved fashion. Owing to his bulk and natural
laziness, which rendered jumping about like a jack-in-the-box
impossible, Hugh Mathison preferred to stand on the defensive; while his
lighter opponent, giving way to the natural bent of his mercurial
temperament and corporeal predilections, comported himself in a manner
that cannot be likened to anything mortal or immortal, human or inhuman,
unless it be to an insane cat, whose veins ran wild-fire instead of
blood. Or perhaps we might liken him to that ingenious piece of
fire-work called a zigzag cracker, which explodes with unexpected and
repeated suddenness, changing its position in a most perplexing manner
at every crack. Baptiste, after the first onset danced backwards with
surprising lightness, glaring at his adversary the while, and rapidly
revolving his fists as before mentioned; then a terrific yell was heard;
his head, arms, and legs became a sort of whirling conglomerate; the
spot on which he danced was suddenly vacant, and at the same moment
Mathison received a bite, a scratch, a dab on the nose, and a kick on
the stomach all at once. Feeling that it was impossible to plant a
well-directed blow on such an assailant, he waited for the next
onslaught; and the moment he saw the explosive object flying through the
air towards him, he met it with a crack of his heavy fist, which,
happening to take effect in the middle of the chest, drove it backwards
with about as much velocity as it had approached, and poor Baptiste
measured his length on the ground.

"Oh pauvre chien!" cried the spectators, "c'est fini!"

"Not yet," cried Baptiste, as he sprang with a scream to his feet again,
and began his dance with redoubled energy, just as if all that had gone
before was a mere sketch--a sort of playful rehearsal, as it were, of
what was now to follow. At this moment Hugh stumbled over a canoe
paddle, and fell headlong into Baptiste's arms, as he was in the very
act of making one of his violent descents. This unlooked-for occurrence
brought them both to a sudden pause, partly from necessity and partly
from surprise. Out of this state Baptiste recovered first, and taking
advantage of the accident, threw Mathison heavily to the ground. He
rose quickly, however, and renewed the fight with freshened vigour.

Just at this moment a passionate growl