Baring-Gould, Red spider. A novel (1894)
(pp175) The difference between Devon and Cornish wrestling consists in this, that in a Devon wrestle kicking is admissible ; but then, as a protection to their shins, the antagonists have their legs wreathed with haybands (vulgo skillibegs). As the legs were on this occasion unprotected, Devon wrestling was inadmissible. Both fashions were in vogue near the Tamar, and every young man would wrestle one way or the other as decided beforehand.
The opponents fixed each other with their eyes, and stood breathless, and every voice was hushed. Instantaneously, as moved by one impulse, they sprang at each other, and were writhing, tossing, coiling in each other’s embrace. Neither could make the other budge from his ground, or throw him, exerting his utmost strength and skill. The haymakers stood silent, looking on appreciatively — the girls a little frightened, the men relishingly, (pp176) relishing it more than the dance. Not one of the lads at that moment had a thought to cast at his partner. Their hands twitched, their feet moved, they bent, threw themselves back, swung aside, responsive to the movements of the wrestlers.
The antagonists gasped, snorted, as with set teeth and closed lips they drew long inspirations through their nostrils. Their sweat poured in streams from their brows.
Simultaneously, moved by one impulse, they let go their hold, and stood quivering and wiping their brows, with labouring breasts; then, with a shout, closed again.
‘ Ho! ‘ a general exclamation. In the first grapple Hillary had slipped, and gone down on one knee. Immediately Samuel let go.
‘ There! ‘ said he, holding out his hand. ‘We have had enough. Strike palms, old boy.’
‘No,’ gasped Hillary, blazing with anger and shame. ‘I was not flung. I slipped on the dockleaf there. I will not allow myself beaten. Come on again.’
‘I will not do so,’ answered Samuel, ‘If you have not had enough, I have.’
‘You shall go on. You are a coward to sneak out now when an accident gave you advantage.’
‘Very well, then,’ said Samuel; ‘but you have lost your temper, and I’ll have no more than this round with you.’
The young men were very equally matched. They grappled once more, twisted, doubled, gasped; the ground was torn up under their feet. As the feet twirled and flew, it was hard to say how many were on the ground at once, and whose they were.
Samuel suddenly caught his antagonist over the arms, and pushed them to his side.
‘He’ll have Larry down! he will, by George!’ shouted several ‘Well done, Samuel! Go it, Samuel Voaden ! ‘
‘ Ha! ‘ shouted Sam, starting back. ‘Who goes against rules? You kicked.’
‘You lie, I did not’
(pp177) ‘You did ! you did Larry’ shouted three or four of the spectators. It was true; in his excitement Larry had forgotten that he and his opponent were without skillibegs and wrestling in Cornish fashion, and he had kicked; but in good faith he had denied doing it, for he was unconscious of his actions, so blinded and bemuzzed was he with anger, disappointment, and shame.
‘I’ll not wrestle any more,’ said Samuel, ‘if you don’t wrestle fair. No — I won’t at all. You are in a white fury. So— if it’s unfair in you to kick, it is unfair in me to take advantage of your temper.’
‘It is not done. One or other must go down.’
Then Kate pushed forward. ‘Neither of you shall attend me home,’ she said; ‘ I am going with little Joe only.’
Whether this would have ended the affray is doubtful. Another interruption was more successful. Suddenly a loud blast of a horn, then a yelping as of dogs, then another blast — and through the yard before the bam, breaking the ring, sweeping between the combatants, passed a strange figure — a man wearing a black bull’s hide, with long brown paper ears on his head ; the hide was fastened about his waist, and the tail trailed behind. He was followed by a dozen boys barking, baying, yelping, and after them hobbled Tom Crout blowing a horn.
‘It’s no good,’ said the lame fellow, halting in the broken ring; ‘I can’t follow the hare, Mr. Larry Nanspian ; the hunt is waiting for you. On wi’ a green coat, and mount your piebald, and take my horn. I wish I could follow ; but it’s un-possible. Whew ! you hare ! Heigh 1 Piper, stay, will you, and start fair.’
‘I’ll have nothing to do with it,’ said Hillary, still panting.
‘That is right, Larry,’ said Kate in his ear, ‘you oughtn’t. Honor said as much, and that she hoped you would keep out of it.’
‘Did she!’ said Hillary angrily; ‘then I’ll go in for it.’
(pp178)
‘Larry, old chap’ exclaimed Voaden, patting him on the shoulder, ‘I wasn’t the better man, nor was you. You slipped on the dock-leaf, and that don’t reckon as a fall. Well have another bout some other day, if you wish it. Now let us have the lark of the hare hunt.’
Hillary considered a moment, and wiped his face. He had fallen in the general estimation. He had been sulky, he had provoked Sam, and the wrestle had not turned to his credit. Here was a chance offered of taking the lead once more. If he did not act the huntsman, Sam would.
‘All right, Crout,’ said he, ‘give me the horn; I’ll have my horse round directly, and the green coat on.’
‘Do not, do not, Larry,’ entreated Kate.
‘Tell Honor I’m not pinned to her apron,’ answered the young man, and ran into the bouse.
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