t pause for a moment, to return with tenfold fury to the charge.
Just at this juncture a vast and dense column of smoke was seen slowly
rolling toward the scene of battle. The combatants paused for a moment,
gazing in mute astonishment, until the wind, dispelling the murky cloud,
revealed the flaunting banner of Michael Paw, the patroon of Communipaw.
That valiant chieftain came fearlessly on at the head of a phalanx of
oyster-fed Pavonians and a corps de reserve of the Van Arsdales and Van
Bummels, who had remained behind to digest the enormous dinner they had
eaten. These now trudged manfully forward, smoking their pipes with
outrageous vigor, so as to raise the awful cloud that has been
mentioned; but marching exceedingly slow, being short of leg and of
great rotundity in the belt.

And now the deities who watched over the fortunes of the Nederlandters
having unthinkingly left the field and stepped into a neighboring tavern
to refresh themselves with a pot of beer, a direful catastrophe had
well-nigh ensued. Scarce had the myrmidons of Michael Paw attained the
front of battle, when the Swedes instructed by the cunning Risingh,
levelled a shower of blows full at their tobacco-pipes. Astounded at
this assault and dismayed at the havoc of their pipes, these ponderous
warriors gave way and like a drove of frightened elephants broke through
the ranks of their own army. The little Hoppers were borne down in the
surge; the sacred banner emblazoned with the gigantic oyster of
Communipaw was trampled in the dirt; on blundered and thundered the
heavy-sterned fugitives, the Swedes pressing on their rear and applying
their feet _a parte poste_ of the Van Arsdales and the Van Bummels with
a vigor that prodigiously accelerated their movements, nor did the
renowned Michael Paw himself fail to receive divers grievous and
dishonorable visitations of shoe-leather.

But what, O Muse! was the rage of Peter Stuyvesant when from afar he saw
his army giving way! In the transports of his wrath he sent forth a roar
enough to shake the very hills. The men of the Manhattoes plucked up new
courage at the sound, or, rather, they rallied at the voice of their
leader, of whom they stood more in awe than of all the Swedes in
Christendom. Without waiting for their aid the daring Peter dashed,
sword in hand, into the thickest of the foe. Then might be seen
achievements worthy of the days of the giants. Wherever he went the
enemy shrank before him; t