216 
STUBBS THE BADGER 
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round. Now and then white fangs snapped, and 
once twice the great claws of the badger fell and 
rose again, stained crimson. It was a fight to the 
death, and no man there dared interfere ; not even 
James Kinchella, who looked on, half sobered by 
the result of what he had done. Gradually the 
dust cleared, and the combatants, locked together, 
heaved this way and that in their struggle. The 
dog had seized the badger behind the left ear and 
shoulder, and again and again in his frenzy he 
almost lifted his antagonist from the ground ; but 
the latter had a lower hold, and slowly and surely 
he was seeking his way to his enemy's throat. The 
dog felt the relentless fangs closing more and more 
tightly, and he fought madly for breath ; but however 
torn, battered, beaten a badger may be, he never 
quits his hold, even in death. Gradually his teeth 
met . . . the dog's struggles grew weaker ... his 
head lolled back. 
' Pull off your divil, Borrigan ! ' yelled Kinchella, 
breaking into the ring ; but he was powerless to 
loosen Stubbs' jaws those terrible jaws that are 
designed for such work as this. 
' Shure, he has him kilt ! ' said Bolger. 
It was many minutes before the two could be 
separated, for the badger clung to his dying adver- 
sary with a tenacity which defied them all. Then 
