The numerous ‘spielers’ about the place found time hang heavily on their hands, and two or three of them thought to pass a few hours away by teasing Yacka, and trying to work him into a frenzy. These vile wretches were adepts in the art of ill-using and insulting not only blacks, but white men, when they got the chance, and when there was but little danger connected with it.
Yacka was quietly carving a stick, when three of these vagabonds came up to him. One jerked the stick out of his hand and flung it away, another upset the log upon which he was sitting, and the third kicked him in the ribs as he lay on the floor.
Then these three white men with black hearts got a surprise from the black man with a white heart. Yacka sprang to his feet with a yell. He seized the nearest man round the waist, lifted him off his feet, and flung him over his shoulder, as easily as only a practised wrestler could. The man fell with a heavy thud upon the ground and lay there. Yacka bounded upon the next man before he had recovered from his surprise, and would have treated him in a similar way. The noise, however, attracted the attention of the ‘spielers’ mates, who came running up, and Yacka was surrounded by enemies.
The black’s eyes fairly blazed as he looked round at the cowardly crew hemming him in on every side. He could not see a loophole of escape, so he determined to fight for liberty. Yacka knew well enough if these men got him down he would probably be kicked to death.
A blow on the back of his head warned him his persecutors meant business. Yacka could see no weapon handy, so he used his fists, and struck out right and left with tremendous effect. Three of the crew measured their full length on the ground in almost as many seconds. Yacka’s blows fell fast, but he could not guard himself at the rear as well as in the front. Blows fell upon his head and made him dizzy, and he knew he could not hold out much longer.
‘There’s a row going on outside,’ said Walter Hepburn, as he got up from the table where they had just been refreshing themselves, and went to the door.
‘Hang me if it is not that black chap of yours! The “spielers” are on to him. Come along, quick, or they’ll do for him!’
Edgar and Will jumped up, and the three ran towards the scene of the encounter.
They were only just in time. One of the gang of cowards attacking Yacka struck him a severe blow on the head with a heavy stick, and the black fell on to his knees. No sooner was he down than a brutal assault was made upon him. Edgar outstripped his companions and was first on the scene. He said nothing, but he began to knock the ‘spielers’ about in a manner that left no doubt as to his hitting powers.
Will Brown and Walter Hepburn were not slow to follow his example, and although they were opposed to more than double their own number, the trio quickly drove the ‘spielers’ away, some of them much the worse for the encounter.