It was rumoured that there was a Sergeant of Hussars who would give Trooper Matthewson a warm time with the sabre. As the crowd of competitors and spectators gathered round the sabres-ring, and chairs were carried up for the Generals, ladies, and staff, to witness the last and most exciting contest of the morning’s meeting, a Corporal-official of the Assault-at-Arms Executive Committee called aloud, “Sergeant O’Malley, 14th Hussars, get ready,” and another fastened a red band to the Sergeant’s arm as he stepped forward, clad in leather jacket and leg-guards and carrying the heavy iron-and-leather head-guard necessary in sabre combats, and the blunt-edged, blunt-pointed sabre. Dam approached him. “Don’t let my point rest on your hilt, Sergeant,” he said. “What’s the game?” inquired the surprised and suspicious Sergeant. “My little trick. I thrust rather than cut, you know,” said Dam. “I’ll watch it, me lad,” returned Sergeant O’Malley, wondering whether Dam were fool or knave. “Trooper Matthewson, get ready,” called the Corporal, and Dam stepped into the ring, saluted, and faced the Sergeant. A brief direction and caution, the usual preliminary, and the word— “On guard—_Play_” and Dam was parrying a series of the quickest cuts he had ever met. The Sergeant’s sword flickered like the tongue of a—_Snake_. Yes—of a _Snake_! and even as Dam’s hand dropped limp and nerveless, the Sergeant’s sword fell with a dull heavy thud on his head-guard. The stroke would have split Dam’s head right neatly, in actual fighting. “Stop,” shouted the referee. “Point to Red.” “On guard—_Play_” But if the Sergeant’s sword flickered like the tongue of a snake—why then Dam must be fighting the Snake. _Fighting the Snake_ and in another second the referee again cried “Stop!” And added, “Don’t fight savage, White, or I’ll disqualify you”. “I’m awf’ly sorry,” said Dam, “I thought I was fighting the Sn——” “Hold your tongue, and don’t argue,” replied the referee sternly. “On Guard—_Play_.” Ere the Sergeant could move his sword from its upward-inclined position Dam’s blade dropped to its hilt, shot in over it, and as the Sergeant raised his forearm in guard, flashed beneath it and bent on his breast. “Stop,” cried the referee. “Point to White. Double”—two marks being then awarded for the thrust hit, and one for the cut. “On guard—_Play_.” Absolutely the same thing happened again within the next half-second, and Dam had won the British Troops’ Sword _v_. Sword Dismounted, in addition to being in for the finals in Tent-pegging, Sword _v_. Sword Mounted, Jumping (Individual and By Sections), Sword _v_. Lance, and Tug-of-War.