The Human Boy and the War Part 9

Somehow I never regarded us as in the same street. But, of course, we may be."

"We're not," I said. "As for boxing on points we're not. But fighting is different and--there you are."

He nodded.

"If you feel like that," he said, "of course----"

"I never did feel like that; in fact I never thought of it before," I told Sutherland; "but now----"

He didn't say anything, so I went on:

"It's a matter of honour in a way," I said.

"From your point of view it is, no doubt," he answered.

"Isn't it from yours?" I asked him.

"Not exactly," he explained. "We're very good friends--in fact more than just common or garden friends--and I never thought of fighting you, regarding you as c.o.c.k of the Lower School and not supposing the question would ever arise between us, as I shall probably leave Merivale before you get into the Upper School--if ever you do. Still, as you feel your honour makes you want to fight me, you must, of course."

"There's no _casus belli_ otherwise," I said, and Sutherland answered that honour was the best _casus belli_ possible. He said:

"Of course, if you honestly feel that I have wounded your honour, Rice, we must fight."

And I said:

"You haven't wounded it exactly. In fact I don't know what the d.i.c.kens you have done. But you've done something, and though you're my chum and I hope you always will be for evermore, yet I don't believe I shall get over this feeling, or, in fact, be any more good in the world till we've fought."

"As a matter of fact," said Sutherland, "you've wounded your honour yourself, by thoughtlessly agreeing to my suggestion that you couldn't lick me. Still, whatever has done it, the result is the same, I'm afraid."

"I'm afraid it is," I said.

I suppose no two chaps ever arranged a thing of this sort in a more regretful frame of mind, for we had always been peculiarly friendly, and the idea of ever fighting had never occurred to us; but it was just that fatal remark of Sutherland, showing his point of view, and showing me, with only too dreadful clearness, his opinion of me as compared with him. And the queerest thing of all was that I quite agreed with him really, only there was a feeling in me I couldn't possibly let it go at that; and, of course, there was also a secret hope that, after all, Sutherland and I might both be mistaken about his being such a mighty lot better than I was.

So we agreed to fight on the following Sat.u.r.day afternoon, as there was only a second eleven match on our own ground, and we should have leisure to go into the wood close by, where these affairs were settled.

Needless to say, the world at large was fearfully surprised when it heard we were going to fight. We still pottered about together in our usual friendly way, and when we were asked, as of course we were, what we were fighting for, it was more than I could do to explain, or Sutherland either. Travers major understood the truth of the situation, and I think Thwaites did, and possibly Preston; but to have tried to explain to anybody else the frightfully peculiar situation would have been impossible, for they hadn't the minds to understand it. So we just said in a general sort of way, we were still chums, but felt such a tremendous interest in the question of which was the greatest fighter, that we were going to find out in the most friendly spirit possible.

Of course, being easily the two best in the school, the sensation was huge, but the general opinion seemed to be that I must be mad to think of beating Sutherland, and I never argued much about it, and said very likely I was, but that I hated uncertainty in a thing like that.

Pegram said:

"It will be your Sedan, Rice," meaning that I should be treated by Sutherland like the French were treated by the Germans on that occasion.

But I did not think so. I said:

"Most likely I shall be licked and badly licked, which is nothing against such a man as Sutherland; but it won't be my Sedan by long chalks, because we've agreed whichever wins it will make no difference."

"Certainly there will be no indemnity," said Pegram, "as you're both far too hard up for any such thing; but you needn't think the beaten one will ever feel the same again to the winner; because human nature is all against it."

"Your human nature may be," I said to Pegram, who was a foxy chap, great at strategy, but otherwise mean. "Your human nature may be like that, but mine and Sutherland's is not."

All the same, I had Pegram to second me, because he is full of cunning, and I also had Travers minor; and Sutherland had Abbott, who is a very fine second, and would be a fine boxer, too, but for a short leg on one side.

Williams was his other second, and Travers major consented to be referee.

Fighting was not allowed at Merivale, but Travers, though head of the school, and never known to break any other rule, supported fair fighting, because he believed it was good; and he also believed that the Doctor did not really much dislike it, though no doubt to parents he had to say he did. Brown, however, hated fighting, and as he was master in charge on the appointed day, we had to exercise precautions and keep the fight as quiet as possible.

Though favourable to fighting as a rule, Travers never cared much about my fight with Sutherland and even tried to make us change our minds.

But he had no reasons that we thought good enough, or rather, that I thought good enough; because of course I was the challenger and Sutherland had no choice but to agree.

It turned out that Sutherland was rather glad of the fight, because it distracted his mind from sadness. A fortnight before, he had been home from Sat.u.r.day till Monday, to see his mother, who was worse, because his brother Tom, or Sutherland major, was in the trenches; and his father had been very gloomy about it, so the fight served to cheer him up, and brighten his spirits, which was one good thing it did.

Then the eventful day arrived, and the fortunate chaps who knew that this was the appointed time, looked at me with awe; and as we were getting up in our dormitory, Percy Minimus whispered to me:

"You'll look a very different spectacle to-night from what you do now, Rice."

The morning seemed long and I jolly near messed up the whole thing and had a squeak of being kept in for the half-holiday, but I escaped, and at last the time came when the footer match was in full swing and Brown, with a lot of kids, watching it.

Then, one by one, about fifteen of us strolled off, including Sutherland and me and our seconds and Travers major and Preston and Blades and Saunders and Perkinson and Ash, and Percy Minimus, who liked the sight of blood, if it wasn't his own.

No time was lost, and a ring was made with a bit of rope while Sutherland and I prepared. They were two minute rounds, and Ash kept the time.

No two chaps ever shook hands in a more friendly spirit, and as to the fight itself, as I cannot relate it, I may copy the notes that Blades took. He missed a good many delicate things that we did, but the general description, though not at all in regular sporting language, gives a fair idea of how it went. He wrote these words:

_Round_ 1.--Sutherland seemed thoughtful and not so much interested as Rice. Rice advanced and dodged about and struck out into the air several times and danced on his feet; and once he would have hit Sutherland; but Sutherland ducked his head under the blow, and before Rice could recover, hit him with both fists on the body. Rice laughed and Sutherland smiled. They were dancing about doing nothing when Ash called time, and they rested, and their seconds wiped their faces and Rice blew his nose with his fingers.

_Round_ 2.--Now Sutherland began to hit Rice a good deal oftener than Rice hit him. But, in the middle of the round, Rice got in a very fine blow on Sutherland's face and knocked him down. Sutherland instantly rose bleeding, but by no means troubled. He praised Rice and said it was a beauty. And Rice said, "Don't patronize me, Sutherland," but Sutherland did not answer. For the rest of the round Sutherland hit Rice several times, but didn't make him bleed. It was a good round and both were panting at the end.

_Round_ 3.--Sutherland wouldn't let Rice get near enough to hit him and kept catching Rice's attempts on his arms. And his arms being longer than Rice's, he could land on Rice without being hit back. He did not hit so hard as Rice, but he hit Rice, whereas Rice hit the air. Still Rice got in a very good one just in the middle of Sutherland's body, which doubled up Sutherland, and before he could undouble again, Rice had hit him very hard on the face with an upper cut. Sutherland fairly poured with blood, but was quite cool and showed no signs of not liking it. He got in a very good blow with his left on Rice's neck before Ash called time.

_Round_ 4.--It was certainly a very fine fight of much higher cla.s.s than we had ever seen before at Merivale. This round was the fiercest up to now, and Travers major had to caution Rice for being inclined to use his head. Still he fought very finely, but it worried him fearfully to be hit so often without getting one back. The hits were not heavy hits to the spectator, but they must have been harder than they looked, because Rice, who has black hair and a very pale skin by nature, was now getting a mottled sort of skin. In this round they were rather slower than before, and stood and panted a good deal, and while they panted, they looked at one another with a sort of doleful cheerfulness from time to time. But there was also fierce fighting, and Sutherland at last drew blood from Rice with a blow on the nose. At the sight of his blood, Rice gave a great display and kept Sutherland moving about, and at last hit him backwards out of the ring. But Sutherland instantly returned and went on fighting till the end of the round. It was a splendid round in every way.

_Round_ 5.---Both were now rather tired, and in this round they took it easy.

But at taking it easy Sutherland was much better than Rice and did not waste so much energy in feinting. He had the best of this round and hit Rice twice or three times on the face. At the end he fairly knocked Rice down, and when Ash said "Time," Pegram and Travers minor rushed to pick up Rice and carry him to his corner; but he rose and walked.

_Round_ 6.--This looked as though it was going to be the last, for Sutherland was now fresher than Rice and evidently stronger. Rice began the round well, but soon fell away, and Sutherland hit him several times, and once over the right eyebrow and cut him, and evidently did that eye no good. Rice made ferocious dashes and Sutherland got away from them; and then, while Rice was resting, Sutherland dashed in and Rice didn't get away. Sutherland hit Rice on the chest and knocked him down, and it looked as though he wasn't going to get up again; but he did, and still had good strength. He was being licked, but slowly. At the end of the round he got one good one in, though it was lucky.

I must here break off the account of the fight by Blades to describe a most amazing thing which made this fight far unlike any other that I or Sutherland had ever fought. After the sixth round we were being mopped up and Pegram was advising me to chuck it, and I was saying, in a gasping sort of way, I should try to stick a few more rounds and hope for a bit of luck, when, to our great horror, there suddenly appeared from the trees Brown and a man clad in black. At first we thought it was a policeman, and that Brown had heard of the fight and had called a constable to take us up; but it turned out that Brown hadn't heard of the fight, and the man in black was none other than the father of Sutherland, the famous middle-weight of other days!

He had called to see Sutherland, and had been sent to the playing field; and there he had been met by Brown. And Brown, guessing that the big chaps were in the wood, had brought Sutherland's father actually to the ring side!

Brown, of course, was furious and wanted to stop the fight and take down all our names; but the famous middle-weight would not hear of this. The moment he found that Sutherland was fighting, a wave of animation went over him and he begged Brown as a personal favour to let us finish. He even promised to put it all right with the Doctor if anything was said, which showed his fighting qualities were still there. Brown, of course, curled up; but his little eyes blazed, and he said that Sutherland's father must take the responsibility, which he gladly undertook to do.

Then Brown, giving us a look which told without words what would happen when Sutherland's father was gone, went back to the kids.

In the meantime, I and Sutherland had a fine rest, and after that we went on again. I wished much that his father had seen the whole fight, because I knew now, only too well, that Sutherland had got me and that, of course, with his father there, he'd buck up and do something out of the common; and I deeply wished my father were there, and not far away buying horses at a guinea a day in Ireland. But I hoped now, with this good rest, to last at least two more rounds.

I may now go on with the description of Blades.