CHAPTER XXIII

STACY AS AN INDIAN FIGHTER

In the meantime there was a lively scrimmage going on near the “Have-a-chicken” circle.  The stones of the circle had been kicked away, the younger savages forming a human ring about the combatants.

Afraid Of His Face was much the superior of the fat boy in physical strength, but he knew nothing of the tricks of the boxer.  Therefore Stacy had played a tattoo on the face of the Indian before the latter woke up to the fact that he was getting the worst of it.

In an unguarded moment the young buck put a smashing blow right on Stacy’s nose, now extremely sensitive from its near boiling in the “Hole In The Wall.”

Not being fast enough in the get away, the young buck received on his own face some of the blood that spurted from Brown’s nose.

“Ow-wow!” wailed Chunky, rendered desperate by the severe pain at this tender point.  But his rage made him cooler.  Chunky made a feint.  As Afraid Of His Face dodged the feint Stacy bumped the young Indian’s nose.

“Have another,” offered Stacy dryly, as his left drove in a blow that sent the young Indian to his back on the turf.  Frightened screams came from some of the young Indian girls, who gazed dismayed at the human whirlwind into which Stacy had been transformed.

“Ugh!” roared Afraid Of His Face, and reached his feet again.  “Ugh!  Boy heap die!  Plenty soon!”

Again the combatants closed in.  There was a rattling give-and-take.

“Here!  Stop that!” ordered Professor Zepplin, striding forward.  The chief and his Indians were coming up also.  The chief caught at one of the Professor’s waving arms and drew him back.

“Let um fight,” grunted the chief.  He next spoke a few guttural words of command to his own people, who fell back, giving the combatants plenty of room.

“Yes, let ’em have it out!” roared the boys.  “Stacy never will learn to behave, but this ought to help.”

Stacy, having it all his own way with his fists, now received a kick from the buck that nearly ended the fight.

“Wow!  That’s your style, is it?” groaned Chunky, then he ducked, came up and planted a smashing blow on the buck’s jaw that sent the latter fairly crashing to earth.

That ended the fight.  Afraid Of His Face made a few futile struggles to get to his feet, then lay back wearily.  Chunky puffed out his chest and strutted back and forth a few times.

“Huh!” grunted Chick-a-pan-a-gi.  “Fat boy heap brave warrior.”

“You bet I am.  But it’s nothing.  You ought to see me in a real fight.”

“Hurrah for Chunky!” shouted Ned Rector.  “Hip, hip, hurrah!”

Professor Zepplin now strode forward, laying a heavy hand on the fat boy’s shoulder.

“Ouch!” groaned Chunky.  “Don’t do that Don’t you know I haven’t any skin on my body?”