Surely it was a nightmare! At the same instant a dim but
devilish-looking face appeared to rise out of the water, and
then came a lurch of the canoe, the quick flash of a knife, and
an awful yell from the Wakwafi who was sleeping by my side (the
same poor fellow whose odour had been annoying me), and something
warm spurted into my face. In an instant the spell was broken;
I knew that it was no nightmare, but that we were attacked by
swimming Masai. Snatching at the first weapon that came to hand,
which happened to be Umslopogaas' battleaxe, I struck with all
my force in the direction in which I had seen the flash of the
knife. The blow fell upon a man's arm, and, catching it against
the thick wooden gunwale of the canoe, completely severed it
from the body just above the wrist. As for its owner, he uttered
no sound or cry. Like a ghost he came, and like a ghost he went,
leaving behind him a bloody hand still gripping a great knife,
or rather a short sword, that was buried in the heart of our
poor servant.
Instantly there arose a hubbub and confusion, and I fancied,
rightly or wrongly, that I made out several dark heads gliding
away towards the right-hand bank, whither we were rapidly drifting,
for the rope by which we were moored had been severed with a
knife.
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