It was a considerable exploit of Why-Why’s that brought him and the northern captive to understand each other.  The brother of Why-Why had died after partaking too freely of a member of a hostile tribe.  The cave people, of course, expected Why-Why to avenge his kinsman.  The brother, they said, must have been destroyed by a boilya or vampire, and, as somebody must have sent that vampire against the lad, somebody must be speared for it.  Such are primitive ideas of medicine and justice.  An ordinary brave would have skulked about the dwellings of some neighbouring human groups till he got a chance of knocking over a child or an old woman, after which justice and honour would have been satisfied.  But Why-Why declared that, if he must spear somebody, he would spear a man of importance.  The forms of a challenge were therefore notched on a piece of stick, which was solemnly carried by heralds to the most renowned brave of a community settled in the neighbourhood of the modern San Remo.  This hero might have very reasonably asked, “Why should I spear Why-Why because his brother over-ate himself?” The laws of honour, however (which even at this period had long been established), forbade a gentleman when challenged to discuss the reasonableness of the proceeding.

The champions met on a sandy plain beside a little river near the modern Ventimiglia.  An amphitheatre of rock surrounded them, and, far beyond, the valley was crowned by the ancient snow of an Alpine peak.  The tribes of either party gathered in the rocky amphitheatre, and breathlessly watched the issue of the battle.  Each warrior was equipped with a shield, a sheaf of spears, and a heavy, pointed club.  At thirty paces distance they began throwing, and the spectators enjoyed a beautiful exposition of warlike skill.  Both men threw with extreme force and deadly aim; while each defended himself cleverly with his shield.  The spears were exhausted, and but one had pierced the thigh of Why-Why, while his opponent had two sticking in his neck and left arm.

Then, like two meeting thunder-clouds, the champions dashed at each other with their clubs.  The sand was whirled up around them as they spun in the wild dance of battle, and the clubs rattled incessantly on the heads and shields.  Twice Why-Why was down, but he rose with wonderful agility, and never dropped his shield.  A third time he stooped beneath a tremendous whack, but when all seemed over, grasped a handful of sand, and flung it right in his enemy’s eyes.  The warrior reeled, blinded and confused, when Why-Why gave point with the club in his antagonist’s throat; the blood leaped out, and both fell senseless on the plain.

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