exulting yell, he darted forward to
follow up his advantage: the triumphant ferocity of his look is not to
be described. Wakatta was yet staggering from the effect of the blow
upon his head, when he received a second, which slightly gashed his left
shoulder, and glancing from it, laid open his cheek. But to my
astonishment, the strong old man, cruelly wounded as he was, seemed to
be neither disabled nor dismayed. The keen-edged, but light weapon of
Atollo was better calculated to inflict painful wounds than mortal
injuries. Either blow, had it been from a weapon like that of Wakatta,
would have terminated the combat.

Before Atollo could follow up his success by a third and decisive
stroke, the old warrior had recovered himself and though bleeding
profusely, he looked more formidable than ever. He at once resumed the
offensive, and with such vigour, that the other, with all his surprising
activity, now found it difficult to elude his rapid but steady attacks.
He was now thoroughly aroused. Atollo seemed gradually to become
confused and distressed, as he was closely followed around the circle
without an instant's respite being allowed him. At last he was forced
into the stream, where he made a desperate stand, with the manifest
determination to conquer or perish there. But Wakatta rushed headlong
upon him, and holding his club in his right hand, he received upon his
left arm, without any attempt to avoid it, a blow which Atollo aimed at
his head: at the same instant he closed, and succeeded in seizing his
adversary by the wrist. Once in the old man's grasp, he was a mere
child, and in spite of his tremendous efforts, his other hand was soon
mastered, and he was thrown to the ground. It was a horrible scene that
followed. I wished that the life of the vanquished man could have been
spared. But his excited foe had no thought of mercy, and shortening his
club, he held him fast with one hand, and despatched him at a single
blow with the other.

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

THE MIGRATION.

A TEWAN MD--EXCHANGE OF CIVILITIES--MAX'S FAREWELL BREAKFAST--A GLANCE
AT THE FUTURE.

"We go from the shores where those blue billows roll,
But that Isle, and those waters, shall live in my soul."

As the victor rose to his feet, his followers uttered a fierce yell, and
precipitated themselves upon the opposite party, which instantly
dispersed and fled.

Wakatta cast a half-remorseful glance at the corpse of his adv