Dam's own luck! (But Miss Smellie had always said there is no such thing as Luck!) Well--so much the better.

_Fighting_ the Snake was the real joy, and victory would end it.

So would defeat and he must not get cock-a-hoop and careless.
Delorme filled his mouth with water and ejected it in a fine spray over Dam's head and chest.

He was very proud of this feat, but, though most refreshing, Dam could have preferred that the water had come from a sprayer.
"Seconds out of the ring, _Time!_" called the referee.
Harberth appeared quite recovered, but he was of a curious colour and seemed tired.
Acting on his second's advice, Dam gave his whole attention to getting at his opponent's body again, and overdid it.

As Harberth struck at him with his left, he ducked, and as he was aiming at Harberth's mark, he was suddenly knocked from day into night, from light into darkness, from life into death....
Years passed and Dam strove to explain that the mainspring had broken and that he had heard it click--when suddenly a great black drop-curtain rolled up, while some one snapped back some slides that had covered his ears, and had completely deafened him.
Then he saw Harberth and heard the voice of the time-keeper saying: "_five--six--seven_".
He scrambled to his knees, "_eight_" swayed and staggered to his feet, collapsed, rose, "_nine_" and was knocked down by Harberth.
The time-keeper again stood up and counted, "_One--two--three_".