and I lay quiet (for I was half sitting, half lying, in the bow
of the canoe), only turning my face so as to command a view of
Umslopogaas and the two Wakwafi who were sleeping alongside of
and beyond me.

In the distance I heard a hippopotamus splash faintly, then the
owl hooted again in a kind of unnatural screaming note {Endnote 4},
and the wind began to moan plaintively through the trees,
making a heart-chilling music. Above was the black bosom of
the cloud, and beneath me swept the black flood of the water,
and I felt as though I and Death were utterly alone between them.
It was very desolate.

Suddenly my blood seemed to freeze in my veins, and my heart
to stand still. Was it fancy, or were we moving? I turned my
eyes to look for the other canoe which should be alongside of
us. I could not see it, but instead I saw a lean and clutching
black hand lifting itself above the gunwale of the little boat.
Surely it was a nightmare! At the same instant a dim but
devilish-looking face appeared to rise out of the water, and
then came a lurch of the canoe, the quick flash of a knife, and
an awful yell from the Wakwafi who was sleeping by my side (the
same poor fellow whose odour had been annoying me), and something
warm spurted into my face. In an instant the spell was broken;
I knew that it was no nightmare, but that we were attacked by
swimming Masai. Snatching at the first weapon that came to hand,
which happened to be Umslopogaas' battleaxe, I struck with all
my force in the direction in which I had seen the flash of the
knife. The blow fell upon a man's arm, and, catching it against
the thick wooden gunwale of the canoe, completely severed it