Although middle-aged, Te Paheka displayed the figure of an athlete. His well-developed muscles rippled under his olivine skin. They lacked the gnarled appearance of those of his antagonist, but their easy, rhythmic undulations contrasted favourably with the jerky, bombastic movements of the Afrikander's muscles and sinews. In height van Eindhovengen exceeded him by two inches, and was a good two stone heavier. Standing alone, Te Paheka would have been regarded as a huge man. Confronting the artilleryman, he looked no more than of medium height and build.
Clad in a pair of shorts of a vivid orange hue--for Te Paheka shared with the rest of the Maoris a love of brilliant colour--and with a silk red ensign emblazoned with the New Zealand stars round his waist, Te Paheka grinned amicably at the Afrikander. The Maori's bare chest and back were covered with elaborate tattooing, but, according to modern custom, his face was unmarked.
"Allemachte!" exclaimed one of van Eindhovengen's supporters. "He is not nearly so big as Oom Jan. Oom Jan will wipe the floor with him."
"The presumptuous nigger!" said another. "He does not know Oom Jan!"
Even Malcolm felt doubtful concerning Te Paheka's chances. He knew the Maori to be a good boxer, as most natives are, but age, if only ten or fifteen years, together with inferior reach and weight, must assuredly handicap Te Paheka considerably. The two men advanced and shook hands, van Eindhovengen with obvious disdain, Te Paheka as naturally as the gentleman he was.
"Take your corners, men!"
Round No. 1 commenced. The Afrikander, confident of knocking out his opponent quickly and completely, led off with a tremendous blow with his left. Had the glove hit its mark Te Paheka would have been shot over the ropes like a stone from a catapult. Stepping smartly back a couple Of paces, he allowed the blow to fall on empty air.
"Jehoshaphat!" ejaculated Kennedy. "Why didn't the Maori take advantage of it? The Dutchy nearly overbalanced himself with the force of his blow."
Malcolm, to whom the remark was addressed, made no reply beyond a confident nod. Already he was tumbling to Te Paheka's tactics. The Maori was fighting a rear-guard action hoping that his staying powers and agility were greater than those of his ponderous opponent.
Round and round the ring the two men went, until the South Africans yelled to their man to hurry up and the Anzacs began to mutter impatiently.