“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.  Two fell in front of Jack and three went down under Jarvis’s club.  The battle had now lasted several minutes, and the strain on the young men was telling on their wind; they struck as hard and parried as well as at first, but they were breathing rapidly.  The young men cheered each other with joyous words; they felt no need of aid.

“Beats football hollow!” panted Jarvis.

“Go in, old man! you’re a dandy full-back!” came between strokes from Jack.

Let us leave the boys for a minute and see what the girls are doing.  When Jarvis got out of the carriage, he said:—­

“Lars, if there is trouble here, you drive on as soon as you can get your horses clear.  Never mind us; we’ll walk home.  Get the ladies to Four Oaks as soon as possible.”

When the battle began, the miners left the horses to attack the men.  This gave a clear road, and Lars was ready to drive on, but the girls were not in the carriage.  They had sprung out in the excitement of the first sound of blows; and now stood watching with glowing eyes and white faces the prowess of their champions.  For minutes they watched the conflict with fear and pride combined.  When seven or eight minutes had passed and the champions had not slain all their enemies, some degree of terror arose in the minds of the young ladies,—­terror lest their knights be overpowered by numbers or become exhausted by slaying,—­and they looked about for aid.  Lars, remembering what Jarvis had said, urged the ladies to get into the carriage and be driven out of danger.  They repelled his advice with scorn.  Jane said:—­“I won’t stir a step until the men can go with us!”

Jessie said never a word, but she darted forward toward the fighting men, stooped, picked up a fallen club, and was back in an instant.  Mounting quickly to the box, she said:—­“I can hold the horses.  Don’t you think you can help the men, Lars?”

“I’d like to try, miss,” and the coachman’s coat was off in a trice and the club in his hand.  He was none too soon!