The Young Pole hit
the floor, shouting, on his head, at the apogee of a neatly executed
back-somersault, collapsed; rose yelling, and with flashing eyes picked
up a length of the ruined _tuyau_ which he lifted high in the air--at
which The Hollander seized in both fists a similar piece, brought it
instantly forward and sideways with incognisable velocity and delivered
such an immense wallop as smoothed The Young Pole horizontally to a
distance of six feet; where he suddenly landed, stove-pipe and all in a
crash of entire collapse, having passed clear over The Zulu's head. The
Zulu, remarking
"_Muh_"
floated hingingly to a sitting position and was saluted by
"Lie down you _Gottverdummer_ Polaker, I'll get you next."
In spite of which he gathered himself to rise upward, catching as he did
so a swish of The Hollander's pipe-length which made his cigarette leap
neatly, holder and all, upward and outward. The Young Pole had by this
time recovered sufficiently to get upon his hands and knees behind the
Zulu; who was hurriedly but calmly propelling himself in the direction of
the cherished cigarette-holder, which had rolled under the remains of the
stove. Bill The Hollander made for his enemy, raising perpendicularly ten
feet in air the unrecognisably dented summit of the pipe which his
colossal fists easily encompassed, the muscles in his treelike arms
rolling beneath the chemise like balloons.
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