The battle was short and sharp.

We were fifteen to ten, and had a grievance.

I found myself engaged with Dicky Brown, who, though he did himself credit, was hampered by a scathelful of stones, which he fondly hoped might turn out to be fossils, on his back.

I grieve to say I made mincemeat of Dicky on this occasion.

In a few minutes the hill was ours, and the enemy in full retreat.
We remained a short time to celebrate our victory, and then adjourned to the school, a little solaced in our spirits.
The day's troubles, however, were not over, for at the door of Sharpe's house, reinforced by half a dozen recruits, stalked the Urbans, thirsting for reprisals, and longing to wipe out scores.
Then ensued a notable battle.