“Now jest keep orf it, Matthewson, and sweep the bloomin’ board,” urged Troop-Sergeant-Major Scoles as Dam removed his fencing-jacket, preparatory to returning to barracks. “You be Best Man-at-arms in the Division and win everythink that’s open to British Troops Mounted, and git the ’Eavy-Weight Championship from the Gorilla—an’ there’ll be some talk about promotion for yer, me lad.” “Thank you, Sergeant,” replied Dam. “I am a total abstainer.” “Yah! _Chuck_ it,” observed the Sergeant-Major. _Of no interest to Women nor modern civilized Men_. The long-anticipated hour had struck, the great moment had arrived, and (literally) thousands of British soldiers sat in a state of expectant thrill and excited interest, awaiting the appearance of the Gorilla (Corporal Dowdall of the 111th Battery, Royal Garrison Artillery—fourteen stone twelve) and Trooper Matthewson (Queen’s Greys—fourteen stone) who were to fight for the Elliott Belt, the Motipur Cup, and the Heavy-Weight Championship of India. The Boxing Tournament had lasted for a week and had been a huge success. Now came the _pièce de resistance, the_ fight of the Meeting, the event for which special trains had brought hundreds of civilians and soldiers from neighbouring and distant cantonments. Bombay herself sent a crowded train-load, and it was said that a, by no means small, contingent had come from Madras. Certainly more than one sporting patron of the Great Sport, the Noble Art, the Manly Game, had travelled from far Calcutta. So well-established was the fame of the great Gorilla, and so widely published the rumour that the Queen’s Greys had a prodigy who’d lower his flag in ten rounds—or less. A great square of the grassy plain above Motipur had been enclosed by a high canvas wall, and around a twenty-four foot raised “ring” (which was square) seating accommodation for four thousand spectators had been provided. The front rows consisted of arm-chairs, sofas, and drawing-room settees (from the wonderful stock of Mr. Dadabhoy Pochajee Furniturewallah of the Sudder Bazaar) for the officers and leading civilians of Motipur, and such other visitors as chose to purchase the highly priced reserved-seat tickets. Not only was every seat in the vast enclosure occupied, but every square inch of standing-room, by the time the combatants entered the arena. A few dark faces were to be seen (Native Officers of the pultans[23] and rissal[24] of the Motipur Brigade), and the idea occurred to not a few that it was a pity the proceedings could not be witnessed by every Indian in India. It would do them good in more ways than one. [23] Infantry Regiments. [24] Cavalry Regiment.