Blacks and Bushrangers: Adventures in Queensland

by E. B. Kennedy

The man got close enough to Mat to hurl two heavy spears at him; but our forester was now in his element. Never taking his steady eye off that of his adversary, he received the first spear on his shield, and the second, which followed instantaneously, he escaped by springing high into the air.

Recognizing the fact that two great braves had met to fight to the death, friends and foes in the immediate vicinity suspended their struggles for the moment, to watch the combatants.

After, as we have seen, escaping the spears, Mat rushed upon his opponent before he could raise his club, and, profiting by a lesson which he had learnt at home, namely, the use of his fists, he dropped his shield, and at the same moment feinted with his left. These tactics, evidently new to the black fellow, somewhat disconcerted him, and for one instant he was irresolute; that moment proved fatal to him, for Mat brought down his club with terrific force on the mass of plumes.

Down went the Tingura chief half stunned, but the thick, stiff feathers of the emu had deadened the force of the blow, and he was up and on his feet again, club in hand, but before he could raise the weapon Mat repeated the blow behind his ear, driving in his skull.

On seeing the chief fall to rise no more, the friendlies gave a loud shout, whilst the enemy yelled with rage, and the fight waxed fiercer than ever.

Mat was well aware that there was a concerted effort to kill him at any price. Yet for the moment, having seen the power of his arm, and never having thought that the white men could fight them with their own weapons, the enemy held aloof, until, amidst loud Tingura cries, another warrior advanced upon him. At the same moment, in an effort to defend himself from a side blow, Mat’s club was dashed from him.

Our forester was now unarmed, but to the astonishment of his enemies and admiration of his friends, this fact seemed not to discourage him in the very least.

Striking out right and left with his fists, he felled a couple of his immediate opponents, with a bound was over their prostrate forms, and had this fresh warrior in his grasp, when, wrenching his club from him as he seized him, but disdaining to use it, he threw it high overhead to where he judged his Waigonda friends would be.

It now became a question of brute force between the white man and the black, the advantage being slightly on the side of Mat as a wrestler. Had the native been brought up in the same school as our forester, the issue would have been doubtful as to which would have come off the victor; for two finer proportioned men it would have been difficult to find.

Although the battle was raging before and behind them, again were the two combatants left to themselves for the time being. Mat had seized his man by the wrist in disarming him, but at once found that the black could twist this wrist round and round like an eel, no matter how firmly he grasped it; the thin muscular arm was too slippery to hold still. So, changing his tactics as the fellow “screwed” away from him, Mat let go suddenly, got a partial grip round his loins, and for a brief moment held him as in a vice; but a sudden wrench, and again Mat’s hands partially slipped. Owing to this final exertion the Tingura fell, dragging Mat with him. There they rolled together in the thick dust, locked in a deadly embrace; but the black, not relishing this kind of fighting, by a violent effort was on his legs again, yet still in the partial embrace of our forester.