In this instance I could not see, but I could hear the impact of the blows--the soft crushing sound made by flesh striking forcibly against flesh.

Then there was the crashing about of the entwined bodies, the laboured breathing, the short quick gasps of sudden pain.
There must have been more men in the conspiracy to murder the captain and mate, for by the sounds I knew that Leach and Johnson had been quickly reinforced by some of their mates.
"Get a knife somebody!" Leach was shouting.
"Pound him on the head! Mash his brains out!" was Johnson's cry.
But after his first bellow, Wolf Larsen made no noise.

He was fighting grimly and silently for life.

He was sore beset.

Down at the very first, he had been unable to gain his feet, and for all of his tremendous strength I felt that there was no hope for him.
The force with which they struggled was vividly impressed on me; for I was knocked down by their surging bodies and badly bruised.