And Will, not knowing what I had done but alarmed by the noise I made, jumped down on top of me.
We picked ourselves up and listened.

We could hear the short quick stabs of the knife as Coutlass loosed and scooped the earth out.

Among the myriad noises of the African night our own, that seemed appalling to us, had passed unnoticed--or perhaps Schillingschen heard, and thought it was the injured lion dragging himself away.

(Nobody needed worry about the chance of attack from that particular lion for many a night to come; he would ask nothing better than to be left to eat mice and carrion until his awful wounds were healed.) Reassured by the sound of digging we crept forward, knowing pretty well the best path to take from having seen Schillingschen stalking.

But it was more by dint of their obsession than by any skill of ours that we crept up near without giving them alarm.