one side to another, without the Blackfoot being able to loosen the
merciless grip. He was panting, but no one could have detected any
quickening of the respiration of the Shawanoe. His mouth was set and
the light of battle flashed in his eyes. He did not speak or yield a
point. The crisis had come and he knew he was the victor, just as he
knew he would be from the first. The Blackfoot swayed
and his moccasins slid here and there over the ground from the
contortion of limbs and body. Then he began pushing with might and
main. His eyes were beginning to clear, but the perspiration
dripped from the twisted coppery features. Reading his purpose,
Deerfoot
began pushing also. Neither yielded for a minute or two, and then the
chief was slowly forced backward. There was no withstanding
the tremendous power of the youth, who strove to the last ounce of
his matchless strength. Taggarak recoiled a step, then another, then
began walking backward, and the next minute the walk became a trot on
the part of both, the chief retreating and the Shawanoe forcing him
faster and faster, though he struggled and resisted with the same
panting desperation as at
first. He was still trotting backward with short, increasing steps
when Deerfoot, never
relaxing his grasp on the writhing wrists, thrust one heel behind his
enemy, who tripped and went over. To insure due emphasis in the fall,
Deerfoot made a leap as he was going and landed with both knees on
the breast of the Blackfoot, who
dropped with a thump that forced a gasp from his
body and literally shook the
earth. George and
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