Chapter XII.Theboys were not badly matched for a struggle, and each realized it as he measured the other in the moment that intervened before they threw themselves on each other.There were no blows at first. Striking out from the shoulder was not in vogue then. They grappled, and each did his best to throw his antagonist, the intention being to get the other down, and then to pummel him until he was unable to fight back.So they dug up the soft green turf with their feet; they rocked this way and that; they swayed up and down; they stumbled over roots and against trees; and sometimes Diego would go down on a knee and squirm up again, and sometimes Juan would go down on a knee and squirm up again.Their breath came pantingly and through shut teeth, and their eyes glared anger and hatred, and they looked and acted altogether more like wild beasts than like human creatures.Then, suddenly, they tore apart from eachother and stood staring fiercely into each other’s eyes. Then Diego jumped forward and struck Juan over the eye and cried “Hah!” with joy of what he had done. And Juan gasped:“It’s nothing. There! that’s for you!” and he struck out, too.However, he missed, and Diego struck him again; this time on the mouth, so that presently a red stain came on his lips, which made Diego wild with triumph, and made Juan wild with rage. Then they grappled again, and, though both were trembling with exhaustion and excitement, they hurtled about the little glade more madly than before, till Diego caught his heel on the projecting root of a tree and was thrown backward.Juan accelerated his fall with a cry of triumph that was very much like the strangled scream of a wild animal. Diego was stunned a little, and for a moment could not defend himself against the savage blows that rained on his face, each blow being accompanied by a cry that seemed to mean, “It is my turn now! it is my turn now!”But after a while Juan grew tired—too tired, at any rate, to keep up the stinging blows—and he held Diego pinned to the ground, his face being thereby brought within a few inches of Diego’s. The latter was in no mood for yielding;though he knew he was at the mercy of Juan, and could be punished more as soon as the strength of the latter returned. But his own was coming back now, and he would make a struggle as soon as Juan changed his position to strike again. At any rate, he would never ask for mercy.In the meantime the breath of each was hot on the face of the other, and their eyes, almost blinded with rage, seemed, nevertheless, to shoot out sparks of fire. Diego made a sudden effort to throw off Juan. Juan gave him a sudden blow in the face and caught him again so that he could not move.“Have you had enough?” asked Juan, who, even at that moment of fury, would have cared more for the submission of Diego than for anything else. It would have been more disgraceful to Diego.“No, no, no!” screamed Diego.“I’ll pound you till you can’t see nor move,” said Juan.“Do it, do it!” screamed Diego, almost inarticulately.“You’ll show me what an honest boy can do, will you?” said Juan, revengefully.“Pound me, pound me!” screamed Diego, as if that were his dearest wish.“You’re a thief yourself,” said Juan.“Jail-bird!” screamed Diego.“I’ll kill you,” raged Juan.“Jail-bird, jail-bird!” screamed Diego.Juan was beside himself; but did not dare to release Diego to strike him again, for it was plain that Diego was growing stronger. He could beat his face with his head. Yes, he could do that. But stop! there was something better.“Both your eyes are black,” he said, tauntingly.“I’ll black yours some day.”“Your nose and your mouth are bleeding.”“I’ll make yours bleed some day.”“They’ll know on board that I did it.”Diego had no answer to that. He could only scream his rage and defiance. But they would know, they would know. He struggled furiously; but Juan only laughed with all the ugliness of passion.“You can’t get up; you’ve got to listen to me.”“Jail-bird!”Diego knew very well that there was nothing hurt as much as that.“You are a thief, too,” said Juan. “Martin Alonzo said so and you could not deny it.”“Never a jail-bird,” answered Diego, as if the punishment made the crime.“You are worse,” said Juan; “you are ungrateful. I saved your life.”“I saved yours. We’re quits.”“Mine wouldn’t have been in danger if I hadn’t saved you.”“Why don’t you pound me?” sneered Diego. “You don’t dare. You know I’ll pay you when I am up.”“I could butt you with my head,” answered Juan.Diego had thought of that, too, and had been afraid Juan would think of it.“Why don’t you do it?” he demanded, determined to be defiant to the last.“I want to tell you something. When they were going to flog you—”“You sneaked out of the way,” interrupted Diego, sneeringly.“I tried to save you,” cried Juan, triumphantly.“You tried hard,” sneered Diego again.“Miguel held me at first,” said Juan, exultantly, knowing surer all the time how it would hurt Diego to know it; “but you may ask any of the men if I did not get to the mast just after you had been taken away.”“When you knew it was too late,” said Diego.“You know better. I was going to save you the flogging by telling that I cut the gearing.”“I don’t believe it,” said Diego, doggedly.“Yes, you do,” said Juan, “and I am going to let you up. I hate you, do you hear me? I hate you! I am going to let you up.”And he did, as if he could see the struggle going on in Diego between his humiliation, his anger, and his sense of justice. Diego slowly rose to his feet.“Do you want to fight any more?” asked Juan, jeeringly.“Yes,” answered Diego, sullenly, “I want to fight till I have whipped you.”“Come on, then, if you can see out of your eyes,” jeered Juan.“Hey, there! you two have had enough,” said a man’s voice.They both thought the men had returned from the ship, and they looked to where the man stood. He was a stranger to them. They fancied they must have been fighting an hour, when in fact they had not been at it for more than ten minutes. Both fighting and talking had gone on at a rapid pace.“Well, who are you?” asked the man, with ashort laugh of amusement at the sight of the two bruised faces. “I should say one of you had had enough, anyhow. Do you belong on that ship loading water?”“Yes,” answered Juan; for the ready-tongued Diego had been silenced by the reference to the plain fact that he had been having the worst of the fight.“And is it you who are going on that crazy voyage in search of Zipangu?” inquired the man, who was evidently a sailor.“Yes.”“Do you wish to go?”“Of course not,” answered Juan.“And you,” said the man to Diego, “do you wish to go?”“No.”“I thought so. Why didn’t you desert, then?”“We did think of it,” answered Juan; “but the captain suspected us and kept us under guard.”“Well, you have the chance now,” said the man. “The boat is only half-way back, and you have only to come with me. We are not going on any search for Zipangu.”“I pledged my word not to desert,” said Diego, his bruised face robbing his proud tone of very much of its dignity; “but,” he added with a sneer, “he will go with you.”“‘HEY, THERE! YOU TWO HAVE HAD ENOUGH,’ SAID A MAN’S VOICE.”Juan flushed and looked at first resentfully and then triumphantly at Diego. He would show the little priestling that there was no such difference between them as he would wish to make out. As he was no more thief than he, so he would hold his word no less dear.“I gave my word, too,” he said, “and I will keep it; though I know the voyage will end in my destruction. But thank you.”“Why, that is bravely said,” laughed the man, as if he found the affair more amusing than heroic. “Well, it won’t matter much; for it is likely enough your voyage will be ended in another way. I must go back to my ship. But, harkee, boys! say nothing to the skipper of it; but I have just come from Ferro, and there I saw three armed caravels of Portugal, which are waiting for your Christoval Colon to capture him and end his voyage. They lie in wait on the north side of the island, where it is most likely you will go, as the nearest and best way. I hear the men shouting for you. My faith!” he said, with a laugh, “they think you have forgotten your promises.”
Chapter XII.Theboys were not badly matched for a struggle, and each realized it as he measured the other in the moment that intervened before they threw themselves on each other.There were no blows at first. Striking out from the shoulder was not in vogue then. They grappled, and each did his best to throw his antagonist, the intention being to get the other down, and then to pummel him until he was unable to fight back.So they dug up the soft green turf with their feet; they rocked this way and that; they swayed up and down; they stumbled over roots and against trees; and sometimes Diego would go down on a knee and squirm up again, and sometimes Juan would go down on a knee and squirm up again.Their breath came pantingly and through shut teeth, and their eyes glared anger and hatred, and they looked and acted altogether more like wild beasts than like human creatures.Then, suddenly, they tore apart from eachother and stood staring fiercely into each other’s eyes. Then Diego jumped forward and struck Juan over the eye and cried “Hah!” with joy of what he had done. And Juan gasped:“It’s nothing. There! that’s for you!” and he struck out, too.However, he missed, and Diego struck him again; this time on the mouth, so that presently a red stain came on his lips, which made Diego wild with triumph, and made Juan wild with rage. Then they grappled again, and, though both were trembling with exhaustion and excitement, they hurtled about the little glade more madly than before, till Diego caught his heel on the projecting root of a tree and was thrown backward.Juan accelerated his fall with a cry of triumph that was very much like the strangled scream of a wild animal. Diego was stunned a little, and for a moment could not defend himself against the savage blows that rained on his face, each blow being accompanied by a cry that seemed to mean, “It is my turn now! it is my turn now!”But after a while Juan grew tired—too tired, at any rate, to keep up the stinging blows—and he held Diego pinned to the ground, his face being thereby brought within a few inches of Diego’s. The latter was in no mood for yielding;though he knew he was at the mercy of Juan, and could be punished more as soon as the strength of the latter returned. But his own was coming back now, and he would make a struggle as soon as Juan changed his position to strike again. At any rate, he would never ask for mercy.In the meantime the breath of each was hot on the face of the other, and their eyes, almost blinded with rage, seemed, nevertheless, to shoot out sparks of fire. Diego made a sudden effort to throw off Juan. Juan gave him a sudden blow in the face and caught him again so that he could not move.“Have you had enough?” asked Juan, who, even at that moment of fury, would have cared more for the submission of Diego than for anything else. It would have been more disgraceful to Diego.“No, no, no!” screamed Diego.“I’ll pound you till you can’t see nor move,” said Juan.“Do it, do it!” screamed Diego, almost inarticulately.“You’ll show me what an honest boy can do, will you?” said Juan, revengefully.“Pound me, pound me!” screamed Diego, as if that were his dearest wish.“You’re a thief yourself,” said Juan.“Jail-bird!” screamed Diego.“I’ll kill you,” raged Juan.“Jail-bird, jail-bird!” screamed Diego.Juan was beside himself; but did not dare to release Diego to strike him again, for it was plain that Diego was growing stronger. He could beat his face with his head. Yes, he could do that. But stop! there was something better.“Both your eyes are black,” he said, tauntingly.“I’ll black yours some day.”“Your nose and your mouth are bleeding.”“I’ll make yours bleed some day.”“They’ll know on board that I did it.”Diego had no answer to that. He could only scream his rage and defiance. But they would know, they would know. He struggled furiously; but Juan only laughed with all the ugliness of passion.“You can’t get up; you’ve got to listen to me.”“Jail-bird!”Diego knew very well that there was nothing hurt as much as that.“You are a thief, too,” said Juan. “Martin Alonzo said so and you could not deny it.”“Never a jail-bird,” answered Diego, as if the punishment made the crime.“You are worse,” said Juan; “you are ungrateful. I saved your life.”“I saved yours. We’re quits.”“Mine wouldn’t have been in danger if I hadn’t saved you.”“Why don’t you pound me?” sneered Diego. “You don’t dare. You know I’ll pay you when I am up.”“I could butt you with my head,” answered Juan.Diego had thought of that, too, and had been afraid Juan would think of it.“Why don’t you do it?” he demanded, determined to be defiant to the last.“I want to tell you something. When they were going to flog you—”“You sneaked out of the way,” interrupted Diego, sneeringly.“I tried to save you,” cried Juan, triumphantly.“You tried hard,” sneered Diego again.“Miguel held me at first,” said Juan, exultantly, knowing surer all the time how it would hurt Diego to know it; “but you may ask any of the men if I did not get to the mast just after you had been taken away.”“When you knew it was too late,” said Diego.“You know better. I was going to save you the flogging by telling that I cut the gearing.”“I don’t believe it,” said Diego, doggedly.“Yes, you do,” said Juan, “and I am going to let you up. I hate you, do you hear me? I hate you! I am going to let you up.”And he did, as if he could see the struggle going on in Diego between his humiliation, his anger, and his sense of justice. Diego slowly rose to his feet.“Do you want to fight any more?” asked Juan, jeeringly.“Yes,” answered Diego, sullenly, “I want to fight till I have whipped you.”“Come on, then, if you can see out of your eyes,” jeered Juan.“Hey, there! you two have had enough,” said a man’s voice.They both thought the men had returned from the ship, and they looked to where the man stood. He was a stranger to them. They fancied they must have been fighting an hour, when in fact they had not been at it for more than ten minutes. Both fighting and talking had gone on at a rapid pace.“Well, who are you?” asked the man, with ashort laugh of amusement at the sight of the two bruised faces. “I should say one of you had had enough, anyhow. Do you belong on that ship loading water?”“Yes,” answered Juan; for the ready-tongued Diego had been silenced by the reference to the plain fact that he had been having the worst of the fight.“And is it you who are going on that crazy voyage in search of Zipangu?” inquired the man, who was evidently a sailor.“Yes.”“Do you wish to go?”“Of course not,” answered Juan.“And you,” said the man to Diego, “do you wish to go?”“No.”“I thought so. Why didn’t you desert, then?”“We did think of it,” answered Juan; “but the captain suspected us and kept us under guard.”“Well, you have the chance now,” said the man. “The boat is only half-way back, and you have only to come with me. We are not going on any search for Zipangu.”“I pledged my word not to desert,” said Diego, his bruised face robbing his proud tone of very much of its dignity; “but,” he added with a sneer, “he will go with you.”“‘HEY, THERE! YOU TWO HAVE HAD ENOUGH,’ SAID A MAN’S VOICE.”Juan flushed and looked at first resentfully and then triumphantly at Diego. He would show the little priestling that there was no such difference between them as he would wish to make out. As he was no more thief than he, so he would hold his word no less dear.“I gave my word, too,” he said, “and I will keep it; though I know the voyage will end in my destruction. But thank you.”“Why, that is bravely said,” laughed the man, as if he found the affair more amusing than heroic. “Well, it won’t matter much; for it is likely enough your voyage will be ended in another way. I must go back to my ship. But, harkee, boys! say nothing to the skipper of it; but I have just come from Ferro, and there I saw three armed caravels of Portugal, which are waiting for your Christoval Colon to capture him and end his voyage. They lie in wait on the north side of the island, where it is most likely you will go, as the nearest and best way. I hear the men shouting for you. My faith!” he said, with a laugh, “they think you have forgotten your promises.”
Theboys were not badly matched for a struggle, and each realized it as he measured the other in the moment that intervened before they threw themselves on each other.
There were no blows at first. Striking out from the shoulder was not in vogue then. They grappled, and each did his best to throw his antagonist, the intention being to get the other down, and then to pummel him until he was unable to fight back.
So they dug up the soft green turf with their feet; they rocked this way and that; they swayed up and down; they stumbled over roots and against trees; and sometimes Diego would go down on a knee and squirm up again, and sometimes Juan would go down on a knee and squirm up again.
Their breath came pantingly and through shut teeth, and their eyes glared anger and hatred, and they looked and acted altogether more like wild beasts than like human creatures.
Then, suddenly, they tore apart from eachother and stood staring fiercely into each other’s eyes. Then Diego jumped forward and struck Juan over the eye and cried “Hah!” with joy of what he had done. And Juan gasped:
“It’s nothing. There! that’s for you!” and he struck out, too.
However, he missed, and Diego struck him again; this time on the mouth, so that presently a red stain came on his lips, which made Diego wild with triumph, and made Juan wild with rage. Then they grappled again, and, though both were trembling with exhaustion and excitement, they hurtled about the little glade more madly than before, till Diego caught his heel on the projecting root of a tree and was thrown backward.
Juan accelerated his fall with a cry of triumph that was very much like the strangled scream of a wild animal. Diego was stunned a little, and for a moment could not defend himself against the savage blows that rained on his face, each blow being accompanied by a cry that seemed to mean, “It is my turn now! it is my turn now!”
But after a while Juan grew tired—too tired, at any rate, to keep up the stinging blows—and he held Diego pinned to the ground, his face being thereby brought within a few inches of Diego’s. The latter was in no mood for yielding;though he knew he was at the mercy of Juan, and could be punished more as soon as the strength of the latter returned. But his own was coming back now, and he would make a struggle as soon as Juan changed his position to strike again. At any rate, he would never ask for mercy.
In the meantime the breath of each was hot on the face of the other, and their eyes, almost blinded with rage, seemed, nevertheless, to shoot out sparks of fire. Diego made a sudden effort to throw off Juan. Juan gave him a sudden blow in the face and caught him again so that he could not move.
“Have you had enough?” asked Juan, who, even at that moment of fury, would have cared more for the submission of Diego than for anything else. It would have been more disgraceful to Diego.
“No, no, no!” screamed Diego.
“I’ll pound you till you can’t see nor move,” said Juan.
“Do it, do it!” screamed Diego, almost inarticulately.
“You’ll show me what an honest boy can do, will you?” said Juan, revengefully.
“Pound me, pound me!” screamed Diego, as if that were his dearest wish.
“You’re a thief yourself,” said Juan.
“Jail-bird!” screamed Diego.
“I’ll kill you,” raged Juan.
“Jail-bird, jail-bird!” screamed Diego.
Juan was beside himself; but did not dare to release Diego to strike him again, for it was plain that Diego was growing stronger. He could beat his face with his head. Yes, he could do that. But stop! there was something better.
“Both your eyes are black,” he said, tauntingly.
“I’ll black yours some day.”
“Your nose and your mouth are bleeding.”
“I’ll make yours bleed some day.”
“They’ll know on board that I did it.”
Diego had no answer to that. He could only scream his rage and defiance. But they would know, they would know. He struggled furiously; but Juan only laughed with all the ugliness of passion.
“You can’t get up; you’ve got to listen to me.”
“Jail-bird!”
Diego knew very well that there was nothing hurt as much as that.
“You are a thief, too,” said Juan. “Martin Alonzo said so and you could not deny it.”
“Never a jail-bird,” answered Diego, as if the punishment made the crime.
“You are worse,” said Juan; “you are ungrateful. I saved your life.”
“I saved yours. We’re quits.”
“Mine wouldn’t have been in danger if I hadn’t saved you.”
“Why don’t you pound me?” sneered Diego. “You don’t dare. You know I’ll pay you when I am up.”
“I could butt you with my head,” answered Juan.
Diego had thought of that, too, and had been afraid Juan would think of it.
“Why don’t you do it?” he demanded, determined to be defiant to the last.
“I want to tell you something. When they were going to flog you—”
“You sneaked out of the way,” interrupted Diego, sneeringly.
“I tried to save you,” cried Juan, triumphantly.
“You tried hard,” sneered Diego again.
“Miguel held me at first,” said Juan, exultantly, knowing surer all the time how it would hurt Diego to know it; “but you may ask any of the men if I did not get to the mast just after you had been taken away.”
“When you knew it was too late,” said Diego.
“You know better. I was going to save you the flogging by telling that I cut the gearing.”
“I don’t believe it,” said Diego, doggedly.
“Yes, you do,” said Juan, “and I am going to let you up. I hate you, do you hear me? I hate you! I am going to let you up.”
And he did, as if he could see the struggle going on in Diego between his humiliation, his anger, and his sense of justice. Diego slowly rose to his feet.
“Do you want to fight any more?” asked Juan, jeeringly.
“Yes,” answered Diego, sullenly, “I want to fight till I have whipped you.”
“Come on, then, if you can see out of your eyes,” jeered Juan.
“Hey, there! you two have had enough,” said a man’s voice.
They both thought the men had returned from the ship, and they looked to where the man stood. He was a stranger to them. They fancied they must have been fighting an hour, when in fact they had not been at it for more than ten minutes. Both fighting and talking had gone on at a rapid pace.
“Well, who are you?” asked the man, with ashort laugh of amusement at the sight of the two bruised faces. “I should say one of you had had enough, anyhow. Do you belong on that ship loading water?”
“Yes,” answered Juan; for the ready-tongued Diego had been silenced by the reference to the plain fact that he had been having the worst of the fight.
“And is it you who are going on that crazy voyage in search of Zipangu?” inquired the man, who was evidently a sailor.
“Yes.”
“Do you wish to go?”
“Of course not,” answered Juan.
“And you,” said the man to Diego, “do you wish to go?”
“No.”
“I thought so. Why didn’t you desert, then?”
“We did think of it,” answered Juan; “but the captain suspected us and kept us under guard.”
“Well, you have the chance now,” said the man. “The boat is only half-way back, and you have only to come with me. We are not going on any search for Zipangu.”
“I pledged my word not to desert,” said Diego, his bruised face robbing his proud tone of very much of its dignity; “but,” he added with a sneer, “he will go with you.”
“‘HEY, THERE! YOU TWO HAVE HAD ENOUGH,’ SAID A MAN’S VOICE.”
“‘HEY, THERE! YOU TWO HAVE HAD ENOUGH,’ SAID A MAN’S VOICE.”
“‘HEY, THERE! YOU TWO HAVE HAD ENOUGH,’ SAID A MAN’S VOICE.”
Juan flushed and looked at first resentfully and then triumphantly at Diego. He would show the little priestling that there was no such difference between them as he would wish to make out. As he was no more thief than he, so he would hold his word no less dear.
“I gave my word, too,” he said, “and I will keep it; though I know the voyage will end in my destruction. But thank you.”
“Why, that is bravely said,” laughed the man, as if he found the affair more amusing than heroic. “Well, it won’t matter much; for it is likely enough your voyage will be ended in another way. I must go back to my ship. But, harkee, boys! say nothing to the skipper of it; but I have just come from Ferro, and there I saw three armed caravels of Portugal, which are waiting for your Christoval Colon to capture him and end his voyage. They lie in wait on the north side of the island, where it is most likely you will go, as the nearest and best way. I hear the men shouting for you. My faith!” he said, with a laugh, “they think you have forgotten your promises.”