We did not wait to bandy civilities, but proceeded direct to the dormitory of Bendigo, whom we found, like a bacon sandwich, comfortably encased between two slices of flannel, vulgarly called blankets. It was the first time we had the honour of an interview, and we made our salaam with due reverence, while the object of our embassy was duly announced by Peter Taylor. Bendigo appeared uncommonly well, and was in high spirits. He is a rough, handy-looking fellow, very muscular, and as we were informed weighed but 11st. 10lb. His seconds, we were informed, were to be Taylor and Nick Ward, and, judging from his manner, he seemed to have booked victory as already secure. To all present we enjoined the expediency of getting early into the ring, as there was a gentle whisper before we left Doncaster that the constables were on the alert. From the “Swan” we proceeded to the “Hawke,” where our presence was not less a matter of surprise. We soon obtained an introduction to Caunt, who was assuming his fighting costume. He expressed his joy at seeing us, but proceeded _sans cérémonie_ with the adornment of his person. His father sat by his side, and if having a gigantic son is a source of pride he has sufficient to render him doubly so, for the hero of the day proved to be a fine young fellow, two-and-twenty years of age, standing six feet three inches in height, and weighing fifteen stone and a half, apparently active, strong, and full of confidence. Comparing him with Bendigo, it was a camelopard to a nylghau; and yet Bendigo was the favourite at five and six to four――a state of odds which seemed unaccountable when the disparity in size was considered. Having here also urged the wisdom of taking time by the forelock, we returned towards the ring, which by this time was surrounded by a most numerous and heterogeneous crowd, many of whom carried sticks of enormous size, and presented aspects which to eyes polite would have been far from inviting. We knew, however, that “rough cases often cover good cutlery,” and we were not disposed to form our opinion from the outside alone, and more especially when we were aware that many of these hardy ones had toddled the whole way from Sheffield or Nottingham, or places equally distant, to witness the prowess of their favourite champion.