ether different. Herman's and Verman's Bangala great-grandfathers
never considered people of their own jungle neighbourhood proper
material for a meal, but they looked upon strangers especially truculent
strangers--as distinctly edible.

Penrod and Sam heard Rupe suddenly squawk and bellow; saw him writhe and
twist and fling out his arms like flails, though without removing his
face from its juxtaposition; indeed, for a moment, the two heads seemed
even closer.

Then they separated--and battle was on!

CHAPTER XXIII COLOURED TROOPS IN ACTION

How neat and pure is the task of the chronicler who has the tale to tell
of a "good rousing fight" between boys or men who fight in the "good old
English way," according to a model set for fights in books long before
Tom Brown went to Rugby. There are seconds and rounds and rules of
fair-play, and always there is great good feeling in the end--though
sometimes, to vary the model, "the Butcher" defeats the hero--and the
chronicler who stencils this fine old pattern on his page is certain of
applause as the stirrer of "red blood." There is no surer recipe.

But when Herman and Verman set to 't the record must be no more than a
few fragments left by the expurgator. It has been perhaps sufficiently
suggested that the altercation in Mr. Schofield's stable opened with
mayhem in respect to the aggressor's nose. Expressing vocally his
indignation and the extremity of his pained surprise, Mr. Collins
stepped backward, holding his left hand over his nose, and striking at
Herman with his right. Then Verman hit him with the rake.

Verman struck from behind. He struck as hard as he could. And he struck
with the tines down--For, in his simple, direct African way he wished to
kill his enemy, and he wished to kill him as soon as possible. That was
his single, earnest purpose.

On this account, Rupe Collins was peculiarly unfortunate. He was plucky
and he enjoyed conflict, but neither his ambitions nor his anticipations
had ever included murder. He had not learned that an habitually
aggressive person runs the danger of colliding with beings in one of
those lower stages of evolution wherein theories about "hitting below
the belt" have not yet made their appearance.

The rake glanced from the back of Rupe's head to his shoulder, but it
felled him. Both darkies jumped full upon him instantly, and the three
rolled and twisted upon the stable-floor, unloosing upon the air sincere
maledictio