him.
Felix felt, if they were to fight it out face to face for their lives,
they should fight at least on a perfect equality. Steel against stone was
a mean advantage. Parrying Tu-Kila-Kila's first desperate blow with the
haft of his own hatchet, he leaped aside half a second to gain breath and
strength. Then he rushed on, and dealt one deadly downstroke with the
ponderous weapon.

For a minute or two they closed, in perfectly savage single combat.
Fire and Water, observant and impartial, stood by like seconds to see
the god himself decide the issue, which of the two combatants should be
his living representative. The contest was brief but very hard-fought.
Tu-Kila-Kila, inspired with the last frenzy of despair, rushed wildly
on his opponent with hands and fists, and teeth and nails, dealing his
blows in blind fury, right and left, and seeking only to sell his life
as dearly as possible. In this last extremity, his very superstitions
told against him. Everything seemed to show his hour had come. The
parrot's bite--the omen of his own blood that stained the dust of
earth--Ula's treachery--the chance by which the Korong had learned the
Great Taboo--Felix's accidental or providential success in breaking off
the bough--the length of time he himself had held the divine honors--the
probability that the god would by this time begin to prefer a new and
stronger representative--all these things alike combined to fire the
drunk and maddened savage with the energy of despair. He fell upon his
enemy like a tiger upon an elephant. He fought with his tomahawk and his
feet and his whole lithe body; he foamed at the mouth with impotent rage;
he spent his force on the air in the extremity of his passion.

Felix, on the other hand, sobered by pain, and nerved by the fixed
consciousness that Muriel's safety now depended absolutely on his perfect
coolness, fought with the calm skill of a practised fencer. Happily he
had learned the gentle art of thrust and parry years before in England;
and though both weapon and opponent were here so different, the lesson of
quickness and calm watchfulness he had gained in that civilized school
stood him in good stead, even now, under such adverse circumstances.
Tu-Kila-Kila, getting spent, drew back for a second at last, and panted
for breath. That faint breathing-space of a moment's duration sealed his
fate. Seizing his chance with consummate skill, Felix closed upon the
breathless monster, and brough