The Fat of the Land: The Story of an American FarmStreeter, John Williams
Science
The Fat of the Land: The Story of an American Farm
Streeter, John Williams
Agriculture
"Sit still, Hercules; I am slower to wrath than you are. Let me talk to
them," and Jack took three or four steps forward, followed closely by
Jarvis.
"Well, men, what do you want? There is no good in stopping a carriage on
the highroad."
"We want work and money and bread," said a great bearded Hun who was
nearest to Jack.
"This is no way to get either. We have no work to offer, there is no
bread in the carriage, and not much money. You are dead wrong in this
business, and you are likely to get into trouble. I can make some
allowance when I remember the bad whiskey that is in you, but you must
get out of our way; the road is public and we have the right to use it."
"Not until you have paid toll," said the Hun.
"That's the rooster who said we drank whiskey and didn't work. He's the
fellow who would rob a poor man of his liberty," came a voice in the
crowd.
"Knock his block off!"
"Break his back!"
"Let me at him," and a score of other friendly offers came from the
drunken crowd.
Jack stood steadily looking at the ruffians, his blue eyes growing black
with excitement and his hands clenched tightly in the pockets of his
reefer.
"Slowly, men, slowly," said he. "If you want me, you may have me. There
are ladies in the carriage; let them go on; I'll stay with you as long
as you like. You are brave men, and you have no quarrel with ladies."
"Ladies, eh!" said the Hun, "ladies! I never saw anything but _women_.
Let's have a look at them, boys."
This speech was drunkenly approved, and the men pressed forward. Jack
stood firm, his face was white, but his eyes flamed.
"Stand off! There are good men who will die for those ladies, and it
will go hard but bad men shall die first."
The Hun disregarded the warning.
"I'll have a look into--"
"Hell!" said the slow-of-wrath Jack, and his fist went straight from the
shoulder and smote the Hun on the point of the jaw. It was a terrible
blow, dealt with all the force of a trained athlete, and inspired by
every impulse which a man holds dear; and the half-drunken brute fell
like a stricken ox. Catching the club from the falling man, Jack made a
sudden lunge forward at the face of the nearest foe.
"Now, Jim!" he shouted, as the full fever of battle seized him. His
forward lunge had placed another miner _hors de combat_, and Jarvis
sprang forward and secured the wounded man's bludgeon.
"Back to back, Jack, and mind your guard!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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