I found _El Dancaire_ and Garcia waiting for me. We spent the night
in a wood, beside a fire made of pine-cones that blazed splendidly. I
suggested to Garcia that we should play cards, and he agreed. In the
second game I told him he was cheating; he began to laugh; I threw the
cards in his face. He tried to get at his blunderbuss. I set my foot on
it, and said, 'They say you can use a knife as well as the best ruffian
in Malaga; will you try it with me?' _El Dancaire_ tried to part us. I
had given Garcia one or two cuffs, his rage had given him courage, he
drew his knife, and I drew mine. We both of us told _El Dancaire_ he
must leave us alone, and let us fight it out. He saw there was no means
of stopping us, so he stood on one side. Garcia was already bent double,
like a cat ready to spring upon a mouse. He held his hat in his
left hand to parry with, and his knife in front of him--that's their
Andalusian guard. I stood up in the Navarrese fashion, with my left arm
raised, my left leg forward, and my knife held straight along my right
thigh. I felt I was stronger than any giant. He flew at me like an
arrow. I turned round on my left foot, so that he found nothing in front
of him.
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