Then they began to circle round each other, their battle-axes raised.

Suddenly Sir Henry sprang forward and struck a fearful blow at Twala, who stepped to one side.  So heavy was the stroke that the striker half overbalanced himself, a circumstance of which his antagonist took a prompt advantage.  Circling his massive battle-axe round his head, he brought it down with tremendous force.  My heart jumped into my mouth; I thought that the affair was already finished.  But no; with a quick upward movement of the left arm Sir Henry interposed his shield between himself and the axe, with the result that its outer edge was shorn away, the axe falling on his left shoulder, but not heavily enough to do any serious damage.  In another moment Sir Henry got in a second blow, which was also received by Twala upon his shield.

Then followed blow upon blow, that were, in turn, either received upon the shields or avoided.  The excitement grew intense; the regiment which was watching the encounter forgot its discipline, and, drawing near, shouted and groaned at every stroke.  Just at this time, too, Good, who had been laid upon the ground by me, recovered from his faint, and, sitting up, perceived what was going on.  In an instant he was up, and catching hold of my arm, hopped about from place to place on one leg, dragging me after him, and yelling encouragements to Sir Henry—­

“Go it, old fellow!” he hallooed.  “That was a good one!  Give it him amidships,” and so on.

Presently Sir Henry, having caught a fresh stroke upon his shield, hit out with all his force.  The blow cut through Twala’s shield and through the tough chain armour behind it, gashing him in the shoulder.  With a yell of pain and fury Twala returned the blow with interest, and, such was his strength, shore right through the rhinoceros’ horn handle of his antagonists battle-axe, strengthened as it was with bands of steel, wounding Curtis in the face.

A cry of dismay rose from the Buffaloes as our hero’s broad axe-head fell to the ground; and Twala, again raising his weapon, flew at him with a shout.  I shut my eyes.  When I opened them again it was to see Sir Henry’s shield lying on the ground, and Sir Henry himself with his great arms twined round Twala’s middle.  To and fro they swung, hugging each other like bears, straining with all their mighty muscles for dear life, and dearer honour.  With a supreme effort Twala swung the Englishman clean off his feet, and down they came together, rolling over and over on the lime paving, Twala striking out at Curtis’ head with the battle-axe, and Sir Henry trying to drive the tolla he had drawn from his belt through Twala’s armour.

It was a mighty struggle, and an awful thing to see.

“Get his axe!” yelled Good; and perhaps our champion heard him.