When nearly a score of yards lay between us Buck came to himself. His arms dropped, he shook his shoulders, felt his damaged ear, now covered with blood,--and saw me. Instantly he made ready to rush me. He possessed to the full that instinct held by all fighting animals which does not allow them to give up. As long as he could stand on his feet he would do battle. I squared myself and awaited his onslaught. My temporary advantage had not deceived me. I knew too well that chance had a hand in the operations just concluded, and that if I ultimately succeeded in whipping Buck Steele it would be a miraculous happening. I saw him bend his body to advance, then earth and sky and air became blended in one burning, blinding, deafening, fiery chaos. My eardrums vibrated under a volume of sound such as I would not have deemed possible; a white sword of dazzling brightness was laid across my eyes, searing the balls and scattering a myriad colored sparks dancing and ricocheting through my brain. Vaguely I seemed to see an oak tree back of Buck slough its bark as a snake does its skin--shake it out and away from its white trunk; saw it rip off its own limbs and cast them down; saw it take its leaves by vast bunches, strip them from their hold, and scatter them abroad like feathers. Accompanying this phenomenon I saw my enemy sink down in his tracks. It all happened within the fractional part of a second, for on the heels of the crash and the awful light, a great blackness and silence settled over me.