The black, who was standing alone looking at the dancers, who were now slowing down, stepped quickly on to the veranda without an effort.
‘This is Yacka,’ said Brody to Edgar, and then turning to the black, he said: ‘A new hand, only arrived to-day. You’ll be able to show him a thing or two about Yanda, I reckon.’
Yacka nodded and, holding out his hand towards Edgar, said:
‘He says true. I know much about this country. Much about other country far off. Ah, you shake my hand! Good fellow! Yacka your friend.’
Edgar had taken the black’s proffered hand, giving it a hearty shake; this he did without a moment’s hesitation.
‘You’ve made friends with Yacka,’ said Brody; ‘that is the way he tests a man. I’ve known fellows come here and refuse to shake hands with Yacka. Not a blessed black in the whole tribe would help the man who declined Yacka’s hand. I dare say it’s quite as clean as a good many white men’s hands.’
‘I like the look of him,’ said Edgar, ‘and how well he talks! Have you ever tried to make him work as a hand on the station?’
‘Bless you, he wouldn’t demean himself to work like these fellows, and if he did they’d buck against it,’ said Brody.
‘Quite right, too,’ said Harry Noke; ‘we don’t want a lot of infernal blacks doing station work; they are good for nothing but thieving and every sort of iniquity.’
‘Perhaps white men have driven them to it,’ said Edgar; ‘I dare say they managed very well before Australia was discovered by Captain Cook.’