Now, I propose that, just before the first gleam of daylight, we throw ourselves upon them suddenly, seize their krises, and cut them down, then leap on shore, and dash into the jungle.

The night will be as dark as pitch, what with there being no moon and with the mist from the swamps.

At any rate, we might get out of sight before the Malays knew what had happened.
We could either go straight into the jungle and crawl into the thick bushes, and lie there until morning, and then make our start, or, what would, I think, be even better, take to the water, wade along under the bank till we reach one of those sampans fifty yards away, get in, and manage to paddle it noiselessly across to the opposite side, lift the craft out of the water, and hide it among the bushes, and then be off." "The worst of it is the alligators, Harry." "Yes, but we must risk that.

We shall have the krises, and if they seize either of us, the other must go down and try and jab his kris into the beast's eyes.

I know it is a frightfully dangerous business, and the chances are one hundred to one against our succeeding; but there is just a chance, and there is no chance at all if we leave it until tomorrow.
Of course, if we succeed in getting over to the other side, we must wait close to the water until daylight.