India dared to play Australia at its own game, and lost. It is an aggressive, aggravated game, teetering on the brink of unseemly, but stimulating to all the senses, too. Its sense of barely contained violence sets players on edge, and umpires and fans, too. As George Orwell described sport as war minus the shooting, this is boxing without the fisticuffs, just. Australia thrives on it, and you can make up your own mind about what that says of the national character.

For an hour on Friday morning, India were Australia incarnate. Their bowlers were fast and menacing, their fieldsmen squawky like seagulls, the umpires more like referees. The mood was like the day, broiling. Mitch Marsh was goaded into a mistake, Brad Haddin was bounced out. The Indians had Australia six out and 161 behind. Steve Smith was still there, as he has been for the last 12 months, a fixture that comes with every new crease, but they could work around him. India were well placed to become the first visiting team to win at the Gabba for a quarter of a century. They were feeling their oats.

And then it all turned to faeces. The Indians greeted Mitch Johnson with more short bowling, also a few imprecations. "Mitch and Rohit (Sharma) had a bit of banter," offered Smith, captain and diplomat. "I'm not sure what it was." For a couple of overs, all five leg-side fieldsmen were in catching positions: two out for the hook, two in for a pop or an edge, and a short mid-on for corner-of-the-eye effect. It was a field designed to intimidate. Quickie Umesh Yadav said India were working to a plan. But the umpires stepped in several times to waggle disapproving fingers.

Something moved within Johnson's soul. His bowling in India's first innings had lacked the shirtfront quality of last summer. The amnesty on bouncers was over, but it was as if he was not quite comfortable with the new terms and conditions. He didn't take a wicket. Now, though, he was provoked, not that you would know it from his style. He produces all his shots with the same full, easy swing of the bat, so languid that it includes a golfer's pause at the top of his backswing, and another upon its completion. At the peak of his hitting this day, he crashed Ishant Sharma for three fours in a row to go to 50. Each time, he turned his back on play after hitting the ball and looked for all the world as if he was about to hand his bat to a caddy. To India, this nonchalance must have been demoralising.

Smith is batting on such a rarefied plane that when mistiming a shot, or hitting one straight to a fieldsman, he slaps his thigh, rebuking himself for momentarily lapsing in perfection. His cover drive should be preserved in a museum. Yet there is still such idiosyncrasy about his batting that he is unlikely ever to be called polished, and makes him all the more endearing. Like his hairstyle, he is an original. When hitting the cut from Varun Aaron that would take him to 100, he let forth an elongated "yeeeesss" and saluted everyone several times over, including Phillip Hughes.

Dhoni over clubbed, Johnson just clubbed. He was lucky at times, when one woody edge fell short of third man and another overflew it. But it was the luck axiomatically due to the bold. India's onslaught was turned on itself. In an hour, the morning was saved. In another, the day was won. Too late, Doni called off the assault. "Too many bouncers," said Yadav, ruefully. Those two hours yielded 148 runs, catapulting Australia to within 10 of the lead. Johnson and Smith fell five Ishant balls apart, but India's horse had bolted. Australia's last three slathered another 105 runs at five an over, even better than the going rate.

In the enveloping humidity, India lost its disciplinary shape, becoming a blob. In the morning, they had huddled in solidarity, in the afternoon for comfort and protection. Clusters were a motif this day, forming around batsmen and fieldsmen almost between every over with towels, sprays, drinks, instructions, once even a change of grip. At a particular drinks break, there were 33 people on the field, also two vehicles. Yes, the day was sweltering, but these waves of invasion were excessive, indecorous and retarded an already slow over rate.

Test cricket is like War and Peace: you have to keep reading. Classically, Johnson would have turned batting form into bowling, gouging a hole in India's second innings in the evening. But the day was still enervating, the ball stubborn in its lack of swing and the Indian openers resolute. Australia bowled with effort and intent, but the sort of siege that India had laid in the morning was beyond their wherewithal now. It was Starc at first change who at length caused the ball to rear at Murali Vijay and cannon from his bat into his stumps. So did Australia win this day's battle, but not yet the war.