Then my pride came to the rescue and I spurted, if one can spurt upon one's stomach, and drew level with him.
After this we went at a pace so slow that any able-bodied snail would have left us standing still.

Inch by inch we crept forward, lying motionless a while after each convulsive movement, once for quite a long time, since the left-hand cannibal seemed about to wake up, for he opened his mouth and yawned.

If so, he changed his mind and rolling from a sitting posture on to his side, went to sleep much more soundly than before.
A minute or so later the right-hand ruffian, my man, also stirred, so sharply that I thought he had heard something.

Apparently, however, he was only haunted by dreams resulting from an evil life, or perhaps by the prescience of its end, for after waving his arm and muttering something in a frightened voice, he too, wearied out, poor devil, sank back into sleep.
At last we were on them, but paused because we could not see exactly where to strike and knew, each of us, that our first blow must be the last and fatal.

A cloud had come up and dimmed what light there was, and we must wait for it to pass.