struggled, he tried with his legs to entwine himself with those of the
Brahmin. He tried to spin round; the Brahmin was watching with the eye
of a hawk for a grip of the other arm, but it was closely drawn in,
and firmly pressed in safety under the heaving chest of the
blacksmith. The muscles were of steel; it could not be dislodged: that
was seen at a glance. The calmness and placidity of the old athlete
was surprising, it was wonderful. Still bending the imprisoned arm
further back, he put his knee on the neck of the poor little hero,
game as a pebble through it all, and by a strong steady strain tried
to bend him over, till we thought either the poor fellow's neck must
break, or his arm be torn from its socket.

He endured all without a murmur. Not a chance did he throw away. Once
or twice he made a splendid effort, once he tried to catch the Brahmin
again by the leg. Roopnarain pounced down, but the arm was as quickly
within its shield. It was now but a question of time and endurance.
Every dodge that he was master of did the Brahmin bring into play.
They were both in perfect training, muscles as hard as steel, every
nerve and sinew strained to the utmost tension. Roopnarain actually
tried tickling his man, but he would not give him a chance. At length
he got his hand in the bent elbow of the free arm, and slowly, and
laboriously forced it out. There were tremendous spurts and struggles,
but patient determination was not to be baulked. Slowly the arm came
up over the back, the struggle was tremendous, but at length both the
poor fellow's arms were tightly pinioned behind his back. He was
powerless now. The Brahmin drew the two arms backwards, towards the
head of the poor little fellow, and he was bound to come over or have
both his arms broken. With a hoarse cry of sobbing-pain and shame, the
brave little man came over, both shoulders on the mould, and the
scientific old veteran was again the victor.