"Use your knife, man. I'm blinded."
"All right," gasped Venning.
"Feel for it first, or you'll be hitting me. Quick! I say."
"What is it?" cried Venning, alarmed at the sudden change in
Compton's tones from rage to alarm.
"Something's pulling me. It's got its arm through the side."
There was a sudden fierce yap and a snapping of jaws. Compton's shirt gave way with a tear, and outside in the dark the leopard screamed. Inside the cry was answered by the howl of a jackal.
"It's our jackal," shouted Venning.
"Where—what?"
"Here;" and Venning laughed hysterically. "Poor old chap!" then,
"Good old jacky!"
"Nonsense!" said Compton; but his band groped out in the dark, and when he felt the rough tongue, he joined in the laugh. They were as pleased as if Mr. Hums or Muata had returned.