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!"
The odds were eighteen to two against the young men, but they did not
heed them. Back to back they stood, and the heavy clubs were like
feathers in their strong hands. Their skill at "single stick" was of
immense advantage, for it built a wall of defence around them. The
crazy-drunk miners rushed upon them with the fierceness of wild beasts;
they crowded in so close as to interfere with their own freedom of
movement; they sought to overpower the two men by weight of numbers and
by showers of blows. Jack and Jim were kept busy guarding their own
heads, and it was only occasionally that they could give an aggressive
blow. When these opportunities came, they were accepted with fierce
delight, and a miner fell with a broken head at every blow.
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