(原版)澳大利亞語文第四冊 LESSON 17
LESSON 17 THE GREAT FIGHT
THE GREAT FIGHT
II
JUST at this critical moment [1] the kitten, having found the process of licking itself dry more fatiguing than it had expected, gave vent to a faint mew of distress. It was all that was wanting to set Martin’s indignant [2] heart into a blaze of inexpressible fury [3] . Bob Croaker’s visage instantly received a shower of sharp, stinging blows, that had the double effect of taking that youth by surprise and throwing him down upon the greensward. But Martin could not hope to do this a second time.
Bob now knew the vigour [4] of his assailant, and braced himself warily [5] to the combat, commencing operations by giving Martin a tremendous blow on the point of his nose, and another on the chest. These had the effect of tempering [6] Martin’s rage with a salutary degree of caution [7] , and of eliciting [8] from the spectators sundry cries of warning on the one hand, and admiration on the other, while the young champions revolved warily round each other, and panted vehemently.
The battle that was fought that day was one of a thousand. It created as great a sensation in the village school as did the battle of Waterloo in England. It was a notable fight, such as had not taken place within the memory of the oldest boy in the village, and from which, in after years, events of juvenile history were dated—especially pugilistic events, of which, when a good one came off, it used to be said hat “such a battle had not taken place since the year of the Great Fight .”
Bob Croaker was a noted fighter. Martin Rattler was, up to this date, an untried hero. Although fond of rough play and boisterous mischief, he had an unconquerable aversion [9] to earnest fighting, and very rarely indeed returned home with a black eye.
It was well for Martin Rattler, on that great day, that the formation of the ground favoured him. The spot on which the fight took place was uneven, and covered with little hillocks and hollows, over which Bob Croaker stumbled and into which he fell—being a clumsy boy on his legs—and did himself considerable damage; while Martin, who was firmly knit [10] and active as a kitten, scarcely ever fell, or, if he did, sprang up again like an india-rubber ball.
Fair play was embedded deep in the centre of Martin’s heart, so that he scorned to hit his adversary when he was down or in the act of rising; but the thought of the fate that awaited the white kitten if he were conquered acted like lightning in his veins [11] , and scarcely had Bob time to double his fists after a fall, when he was knocked back again into the hollow out of which he had risen.
“HE PLUNGED… INTO BOB CROAKER’S BOSOM!”
There were no rounds in this fight—no pausing to recover breath. Martin’s anger rose with every blow, whether given or received; and although he was knocked down flat four or five times, he rose again, and, without a second’s delay, rushed headlong at his enemy. Feeling that he was too little and light to make much impression on Bob Croaker by means of mere blows, he endeavoured as much as possible to throw his weight against him at each assault; but Bob stood his ground well, and after a time seemed even to be recovering strength a little.
Suddenly he made a rush at Martin, and, dealing him a successful blow on the forehead, knocked him down; at the same time he himself tripped over a mole-hill and fell upon his face. Both were on their legs in an instant. Martin grew desperate. The white kitten swimming for its life seemed to rise before him, and new energy was infused into his frame [12] . He retreated a step or two, and then darted forward like an arrow from a bow. Uttering a loud cry, he sprang completely in the air and plunged—head and fists together, as if he were taking a dive— into Bob Croaker’s bosom!
The effect was tremendous. Bob went down like a shock of grain [13] before the sickle; and having, in their prolonged movements, approached close to the brink of the stream, both he and Martin went with a sounding splash into the deep pool and disappeared. It was but for a moment, however. Martin’s head emerged first, with eyes and mouth distended to the utmost [14] . Instantly, on finding bottom, he turned to deal his opponent another blow; but it was not needed. When Bob Croaker’s head rose to the surface there was no motion in the features, and the eyes were closed. The intended blow was changed into a friendly grasp, and exerting himself to the utmost, Martin dragged his insensible school-fellow to the bank, where, in a few minutes, he recovered sufficiently to declare in a sulky tone that he would fight no more.
“Bob Croaker,” said Martin, holding out his hand, “I’m sorry we’ve had to fight. I wouldn’t have done it but to save my kitten. You compelled me to do it, you know that. Come, let’s be friends again.
—R. M. BALLANTYNE
* * *
[1] critical moment: Just as they were going to fight.
[2] indignant: Filled with a sense of wrong.
[3] inexpressible fury: Anger so great that no words could describe it.
[4] vigour: Strength.
[5] warily: Cautiously.
[6] tempering: Calming; cooling.
[7] salutary degree of caution: Wholesome amount of carefulness.
[8] eliciting: Calling forth.
[9] unconquerable aversion: Dislike which cannot be overcome.
[10] firmly knit: Well built.
[11] acted like lightning in his veins: Roused him to fiercer efforts.
[12] new energy was infused into his frame: He received fresh strength.
[13] shock of grain: A bundle of stalks of wheat, barley, etc.
[14] distended to the utmost: Opened as widely as possible.
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