"That will quiet her," and he turned out the light, putting an end to its abominable emanation of coarse petroleum, while the soft starry light of a glorious night stole in, showing the shapes of door and windows.
"Hah! That's better!" said Ingleborough, making the rough bedstead creak as he laid himself gently down.

"I hope none of these cartridges will explode.

Oh, how I can sleep!" "And so can I," sighed West, "even dressed up like this," after laying his rifle alongside of his companion's, straight down the middle of the bed.
"We didn't tell Jack the Kaffir to bring our shaving-water at daybreak," said Ingleborough, who now that he was in a horizontal position seemed to have suddenly grown wakeful.

"I say." "Well ?" "I wonder how our dear friend Anson is!" West made no reply.
"I say! West!" "Oh, don't talk, please.

I want to sleep." "All right, you shall, till I see the pearly dawn streaming in through that little window at the back here.