"Whoop, hi-ho, and cock-a-doodle-doo! I’m the original Pittsburgh screamer, weaned on shark‘s meal, raised in a crib with rattlesnakes, mad scorpions, and hungry bumblebees. I’m second cousin to a hurricane, first cousin to a seven-day blizzard, and brother to an earthquake. I’m so all-fired ferocious and ornery, it scares me even to think about it. And I’m so chock-full of fight and fury, I have to lick somebody or my muscles will bust like cannon balls!"

The big-nosed boatman, whose name was Carpenter, puffed up his chest and roared right back at Mike, "Whoop and holler! I’m a man-eating panther, with teeth like buzz saws and eyes sharp enough to bore holes through the midnight. My mother was a tiger, and my father was a rhinoceros. I can crack an elephant‘s bones in one hand, break five grizzly bears’ backs with the other, and blow down a forest with one breath. I’m so rough I don‘t dare scratch myself for fear my skin will come off"

There was nothing to do but fight to prove who was the better man. The rest of the keelboat men watched and trembled. The boat itself trembled, as Mike and Carpenter wrestled and writhed, stuck and staggered, panted and puffed. They fought for two hours, sweating so hard that a crew of men had to bail the boat out to keep everyone from drowning. Finally, Mike gave a whoop loud enough to tear a hole through the boat deck, leaped, drove his feet into Carpenter‘s belly, and knocked Carpenter flat as a pancake turner.

Carpenter lay still. He said, "Whoop," but his voice was so weak that a ladybug sitting right on his chin couldn‘t hear it. When he gained enough strength, he stood up and gave Mike the red feather from his hat.