desired. In the next instant it was wrested from him,
and thrown far from the spot on which he struggled with
his adversary, but at fearful odds, against himself.
Henry Grantham, although well and actively made, was of
slight proportion, and yet in boyhood. Desborough, on
the contrary, was in the full force of a vigorous manhood.
A struggle, hand to hand, between two combatants so
disproportioned, could not, consequently, be long doubtful
as to its issue. No sooner had the formidable Yankee
closed with his enemy, than, pressing the knuckles of
his iron hand which met round the body of the officer,
with violence against his spine, he threw him backwards
with force upon the sands. Grasping his victim with one
hand as he lay upon him, he seemed, as Grantham afterwards
declared, to be groping for his knife with the other.
The settler was evidently anxious to despatch one enemy,
in order that he might fly to the assistance of his son,
for it was he whom Middlemore, with a powerful effort,
had dragged from the canoe to the beach. While his right
hand was still groping for the knife--an object which
the powerful resistance of the yet unsubdued, though
prostrate, officer rendered somewhat difficult of attainment
--the report of a pistol was heard, fired evidently by
one of the other combatants. Immediately the settler
looked up to see who was the triumphant party. Neither
had fallen, and Middlemore, if any thing, had the advantage
of his enemy; but to his infinite dismay, Desborough
beheld a horseman, evidently attracted by the report of
the pistol, urging his course with the rapidity of
lightning, along the firm sands, and advancing with cries