Sheldon looked for this one, for such was the one to fear.

Directly beneath him he caught sight of the muzzle of a rifle, barely projecting between two black bodies, that was slowly elevating toward him.

It was held at the hip by a man in the second row.
"What name you ?" Sheldon suddenly shouted, pointing directly at the man who held the gun, who startled and lowered the muzzle.
Sheldon still held the whip hand, and he intended to keep it.
"Clear out, all you fella boys," he ordered.

"Clear out and walk along salt water.

Savvee!" "Me talk," spoke up a fat and filthy savage whose hairy chest was caked with the unwashed dirt of years.
"Oh, is that you, Telepasse ?" the white man queried genially.