It became a mere struggle.

Such was his fury and his vigor, however, that they could not master him.

He played his head like a snake, so that they could not seize him disadvantageously; and at last he dropped his shovel and got them both by the throat, and grasped them so fiercely that their faces were purple, and their eyes beginning to fix, when to his dismay, he received a violent blow on the right arm that nearly broke it: he let go, with a cry of pain, and with his left hand twisted the other man round so quickly, that he received the next blow of Cole's cudgel.

Then he dashed his left fist into Cole's eye, who staggered, but still barred the way; so Little rushed upon him, and got him by the throat, and would soon have settled him: but the others recovered themselves ere he could squeeze all the wind out of Cole, and it became a struggle of three to one.
He dragged them all three about with him; he kicked, he hit, he did every thing that a man with one hand, and a lion's heart, could do.
But gradually they got the better of him; and at last it came to this, that two were struggling on the ground with him, and Cole standing over them all three, ready to strike.
"Now, hold him so, while I settle him," cried Cole, and raised his murderous cudgel.
It came down on Little's shoulder, and only just missed his head.
Again it came down, and with terrible force.
Up to this time he had fought as mute as a fox.

But now that it had come to mere butchery, he cried out, in his agony, "They'll kill me.