But my anger and discomfort banished all fear, and I rushed at the prophet in a whirlwind.

He had no eyes for my coming till my head took him fairly in the middle, and drove the breath out of his chest.

That quieted his noise, and he turned on me with something like wholesome human wrath in his face.
Now, I was no match for this great being with my ungrown strength, but the lesson of my encounter with the dragoon was burned on my mind, and I was determined to keep out of grips with him.

I was light on my feet, and in our country bouts had often worsted a heavier antagonist by my quickness in movement.

So when Muckle John leaped to grab me, I darted under his arm, and he staggered half-way across the room.