The change was made, Entellus stripped, and took up his station in the middle of the arena confronting Dares, who, powerful as he was, looked a mere stripling as he faced the athletic veteran. Then the boxers raised themselves to their full height, with heads drawn back, and the battle began. Dares was far superior in speed and agility, while Entellus, who could have crushed him in his arms, was slow on his feet, and short of wind. There was a rapid interchange of blows, and the air rang with the clatter of the hard gauntlets, as Dares manœuvred nimbly round his huge antagonist, who stood rooted like an oak in his place, parrying the blows. Suddenly Entellus saw an opening, and put in a heavy stroke, with all the force of his ponderous right arm. Dares stepped lightly aside, and Entellus, carried forward by the impetus of his own blow, lost his balance, and came down with a sounding thud on the turf. A shout of mingled triumph and dismay greeted the fall of the Sicilian champion, and his friends rushed forward to help him to his feet. But, neither dulled nor dismayed by his fall, that mighty man returns keener to the battle, and kindles strength with rage. All the vigor of his youth comes back to him, and he chases Dares headlong round and round the ring, now with his right hand raining blows, now with his giant left. No rest, no pause; like hailstones rattling on the roof, so shower the strokes of those iron hands on the head of the hapless Dares. At last Æneas interposed, and stopped the unequal combat. Dares was borne, shattered and fainting, from the ring, and Entellus, crowned with the victor’s wreath, took possession of the bull. “Now mark,” he said, “Æneas, and learn, ye Trojans, what force was in this arm in the days of my prime, and what death Dares has escaped.” Saying this, he planted himself firmly in front of the bull, and slowly drawing back his gauntleted fist poised it like a club, and dashed it with all his force between the horns of the beast. The skull was splintered as if by a sledge-hammer, and prostrate, lifeless, quivering, on earth lay the bull. “That was the blow which I designed for Dares,” said the giant, “but the bull is a worthier sacrifice to the shade of my master Eryx. I have fought my last round, and now I will hang up my gauntlets in his shrine.” THE CONTEST OF THE ARCHERS By H. L. Havell