|
The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from Allan Quatermain by H. Rider Haggard: 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,
 Allan Quatermain |