Jock Of The Bushveld by Sir Percy Fitzpatrick (Chapter 23)( Page 3 ) The Fighting Baboon

It was at this moment that Jim first noticed what was going on.  The other boys had not expected anything when Seedling called the dog, and they were taken completely by surprise by what followed.  Jim would have known what to expect: his kraal was in the neighbourhood; he knew Seedling well, and had already suffered in fines and confiscations at his hands; he also knew about the baboon; but he was ignorant, just as I was, of the fact that Seedling had left his old place across the river and come to live in the new hut, bringing his pet with him. It was the hoarse threatening shout of the baboon as it jumped at Jock, as much as the exclamations of the boys, that roused Jim.  He knew instantly what was on, and grabbing a stick made a dash to save the dog, with the other boys following him. When Jock was sent spinning in the dust the baboon recovered itself first, and standing up on its hind legs reached out its long ungainly arms towards him, and let out a shout of defiance.  Jock regaining his feet dashed in, jumped aside, feinted again and again, as he had learnt to do when big horns swished at him; and he kept out of reach just as he had done ever since the duiker taught him the use of its hoofs.  He knew what to do, just as he had known how to swing the porcupine: the dog-- for all the fighting fury that possessed him--took the measure of the chain and kept outside it.  Round and round he flew, darting in, jumping back, snapping and dodging, but never getting right home.  The baboon was as clever as he was: at times it jumped several feet in the air, straight up, in the hope that Jock would run underneath; at others, it would make a sudden lunge with the long arms, or a more surprising reach out with the hind legs to grab him.  Then the baboon began gradually to reduce its circle, leaving behind it slack chain enough for a spring; but Jock was not to be drawn.  In cleverness they were well-matched-- neither scored in attack; neither made or lost a point. When Jim rushed up to save Jock, it was with eager anxious shouts of the dog's name that warned Seedling and made him turn; and as the boy ran forward the white man stepped out to stop him. "Leave the dog alone!" he shouted, pale with anger. "Baas, Baas, the dog will be killed," Jim called excitedly, as he tried to get round; but the white man made a jump towards him, and with a backhand slash of the sjambok struck him across the face, shouting at him again: "Leave him, I tell you." Jim jumped back, thrusting out his stick to guard another vicious cut; and so it went on with alternate slash and guard, and the big Zulu danced round with nimble bounds, guarding, dodging, or bearing the sjambok cuts, to save the dog.  Seedling was mad with rage; for who had ever heard of a nigger standing up to a Field Cornet?  Still Jim would not give way; he kept trying to get in front of Jock, to head him off the fight, and all the while shouting to the other boys to call me.  But Seedling was the Field Cornet, and not one of them dared to move against him. At last the baboon, finding that Jock would not come on, tried other tactics; it made a sudden retreat and, rushing for the pole, hid behind it as for protection.  Jock made a jump and the baboon leaped out to meet him, but the dog stopped at the chain's limit, and the baboon--just as in the first dash of all--overshot the mark; it was brought up by the jerk of the collar, and for one second sprawled on its back.  That was the first chance for Jock, and he took it.  With one spring he was in; his head shot between the baboon's hind legs, and with his teeth buried in the soft stomach he lay back and pulled--pulled for dear life, as he had pulled and dragged on the legs of wounded game; tugged as he had tugged at the porcupine; held on, as he had held when the koodoo bull wrenched and strained every bone and muscle in his body. Then came the sudden turn!  As Jock fastened on to the baboon, dragging the chain taut while the screaming brute struggled on its back, Seedling stood for a second irresolute, and then with a stride forward raised his sjambok to strike the dog.  That was too much for Jim; he made a spring in and grasping the raised sjambok with his left hand held Seedling powerless, while in his right the boy raised his stick on guard. "Let him fight, Baas!  You said it!  Let the dog fight!" he panted, hoarse with excitement.