The Sun. — 1847-10-19 (London, England)

FIGHT WITH KNIVES IN A  SPANISH CITY.  Suddenly the muleteer's eyeballs glared like a wild cat's, and he gnashed his teeth together—you might have heard them rasp—as, with a fierce cry, he sprung from his seat, upsetting the little table, bottle, glasses, and all, and with one bound he was alongside the charcoal burner, and, laying his hand on his shoulder, twirled him round with a quick violent movement, and they were face to face. Pepe shook his fist in he charcoal-burner's face ; but, choked with passion, he could not speak ; the gleam of his eyes showed what he meant. Manolo, for it was that worthy, had evidently been drinking, and was without his hat, and he started back at first at the startling and sudden appearance of the muleteer. But, quickly recovering himself, he drew forth his long knife and rushed at Pepe ; but his arm was seized by the soldiers, and he was held back, struggling violently, and cursing horribly. " Let us have it all fair. A ring ! a ring !" cried they. " Not in here, not in here !" called out the alarmed host; " not in here, gentlemen, if you please ; go out in the street." "In the street, in the street ! the moon is up, and there is light enough," cried the soldiers, as they dragged the struggling charcoal burner into the open air. They had heard nothing of the cause of this deadly quart., 1 ; but some backed the muleteer, others the charcoal-burner. The waning moon shed a faint, dubious hght down the open street upon the strange scene ; but the atmosphere, so pure and serene, interrupted not her rays until they fell on the forms of the wild and now excited soldiers. Pepe, drawing his knife, followed the charcoal burner into the street. They were apparently well matched; each about the same size and stature, and each armed with a long sharp-pointed knife. But Pepe, though mad with rage, and struck dumb with intense horror at the sight of his dear master's murderer, had not been drinking; and, moreover, he had his hat, and much to avenge. The lower orders of Spaniards practice from their infancy the use of the deadly navaja ; it is their inseparable companion, and they can use it with a dexterity almost incredible. I have often seen in the towns and villages of Andalusia little boys playing at knives with pieces of wood, and showing great skill and readiness in handling their mimic weapons. The Englishman has his fist, the Irishman his shillelah, the negro his head, and the Spaniard his knife, which he uses as promptly and readily as the others; but the effect, as may be supposed, is widely different. "Now, then, my gamecocks, at it I ,a.dollar on the first stroke !" shouted one of the arriero s backers.  " A dollar on black face r cried another, patting the charcoal burner on his back. Pepe and Manolo glared fiercely at one another as each now wd o stooddoes before prepared to spring, crouching as a panther his leap, their knives firmly grasped in their right hands, with the thumb on the blade, and held about level with the knee. The soldiers formed a ring round them, and stood in silence ; for now it was not fair to speak. " Toma !" shouted the charcoalburner, as, with a rapid movement he jumped at the arriero with a deadly intention, but uncertain feet. As Manolo was in the air, Pepe, with his left hand, dashed his broad-leafed hat into his face, and baffled his aim. The impetus of the spring, aided by the aguardiente he had drank, carried the charcoalburner staggering forwards ; and, as he passed, the muleteer, jumping quickly on one side, drove his long knife up to the haft in the side of him who had slain his best friend, and with a shout of triumph he cried, " Take that for Lope !" It was all over in a minute. The wounded charcoal-burner fell forwards on his face, with the red blood spurting from the gash in his TVayside Cross.