conspicuous that Decatur knew him at once, and, rushing forward, lunged
at him with his boarding pike. The Turk must have felt contempt for the
American who dared thus to assail him, for his assailant was but a boy
in size compared to him. He speedily proved his physical superiority
over Decatur, for he not only parried the lunge of the pike, but
wrenched it from his hand. He in turn drove his pike at Decatur's
breast, but his blow was also parried, though its violence broke off the
American's sword at the hilt. The active Turk came again, and his
second blow was only partly turned aside, the point of the pike tearing
through Decatur's coat and inflicting a bad wound in his chest.

Before the Turk could strike a third time, Decatur ran in, and the two
instantly engaged in a fierce wrestling bout. The American was the most
skilful, but by sheer strength his enormous antagonist threw him to the
deck, and, gripping him by the throat with one hand, he reached down to
draw a small curved knife, known as a yataghan. It was behind the sash
in his waist and directly in front. Decatur threw both legs over the
back of the Turk and pressed him so close that he could not force his
hand between their bodies to reach his weapon. Decatur's pistol was at
his hip. He was able to withdraw it, and he then did the only thing that
could possibly save his life, though the chances were that the act would
hasten his death.

Reaching over the back of the Turk, he pointed the weapon downward
toward his own breast and pulled the trigger. In most cases the bullet
would have passed through both bodies, but, fortunately, the ball
encountered some obstruction and did not reach the imperiled American.
He shoved off the bulky form, which rolled over on its back, dead.

It must not be supposed that while this furious hand-to-hand encounter