Will fired at twenty paces. The bullet passed through the skin and flattened against the tree. On seeing this, the blacks regarded the revolver with much interest, but would not handle it.
The Enooma blacks were athletic fellows, and could run, jump, and wrestle in a manner that surprised Edgar, who knew a good deal about such sports.
In his Redbank days Edgar had run his hundred yards in even time, and he was in splendid condition now.
One of the Enooma, called Ouwana, they noticed was a fine runner, and Will suggested Edgar should try his speed against him.
Yacka, as usual, arranged matters.
Ouwana was a tall, lithe-limbed black, about twenty years old, and with a less repulsive cast of countenance than many of his tribe. He was quite willing to run Edgar, and Will measured out the distance as near as he could stride it.
Yacka acted as starter, the signal being a loud clap of the hands, and Will was judge. The blacks grew quite excited over the race.
Yacka’s hands met with a crack like a pistol, and, trained as he had been to start smartly, Edgar gained a slight advantage. He ran his best, but before he had gone fifty yards it was a hopeless case, as Ouwana passed him like a flash, and simply won hands down.
Edgar was amazed, not so much at being beaten, as by the easy way in which it was done.
‘He’s a champion,’ said Edgar.