“Only knocking and slashing,” said Bevis. “Stabbing won’t do, and arrows won’t do, nor spears.” “Why not?” said Mark, who had been looking forward to darting his javelin at Ted Pompey. “Because eyes will get poked out,” said Bevis, “and there would be a row. If anybody got stuck and killed, there would be an awful row.” “So there would,” said Mark. “How stupid!” Just as if people could not kill one another without so much fuss! “And no hitting at faces,” said Bevis, “else if somebody’s marked there will be a bother.” “No,” said Ted. “Mind, no slashing faces. Knock swords together.” “Knock swords together,” said Bevis. “Make rattling and shout.” “Shout,” said Mark, bellowing his loudest. “How shall we know when we’re killed?” said Cecil. “Well, you _are_ a stupe,” said Val. “Really you are.” They all laughed at Cecil. “But I don’t know,” said Ted Pompey. “You just think, how shall we know who’s beat? Cecil’s not so silly.” “No more he is,” said Mark. “Bevis, how is it to be managed?” “Those who run away are beaten,” said Charlie. “You’ll see Ted run fast enough.” Away he scampered himself to escape punishment. “Of course,” said Bevis. “One way will be if people run away. O! I know, if the camp is taken.” “Or if the captain is taken prisoner,” said Phil; “and tied up with a cord.” “Yes,” continued Bevis. “If the captain is taken prisoner, and if the eagles are captured--” “Eagles,” said Ted Pompey. “Standards,” said Phil. “That’s right: are we to have proper eagles, Caesar Bevis?” “Yes,” said Bevis. “Three brass rings round sticks will do. Two eagles each, don’t you see, Ted, like flags, only eagles, that’s proper.” “Who keeps the ground wins the victory,” said Cecil. “Right,” said Ted. “I shall soon tie up Bevis--we must bring cords.” “You must catch him first,” said Mark. “Captains must be guarded,” said Val. “Strong guards round them and awful fighting there,” licking his lips at the thought of it. “Captain Caesar Bevis,” said Tim, who had not spoken before, but had listened very carefully. “Is there to be any punching?” “Hum!” Bevis hesitated, and looked at Ted. “I think so,” said Ted, who had long arms and hard fists. “If there’s punching,” cried Charlie from the oak, into which he had climbed for safety; “if there’s punching, only the big blokes can play.” “No punching,” said Mark eagerly, not that he feared, being stout and sturdy, but seizing at anything to neutralise Ted’s big soldiers. “No punching,” shouted a dozen at once; “only pushing.” “Very well,” said Bevis, “no punching, and no tripping--pushing and wrestling quite fair.” “Wrestling,” said Ted directly. “That will do.” “Stupid,” said Mark to Bevis; then louder, “Only nice wrestling, no ‘scrumpshing.’” “No ‘scrumpshing,’” shouted everybody. Ted stamped his foot, but it was of no use. Everybody was for fair and pleasant fighting. “Never mind,” said Ted. “We’ll shove you out of the field.”