Godfrey and Carefinotu, who had climbed up to the two small windows in the bark of the sequoia, endeavoured to see what was passing in the gloom. Evidently the wild animals--tigers or lions, panthers or hyaenas, they did not know which yet--had thrown themselves on the flock and begun their slaughter. At this moment, Tartlet, in a paroxysm of blind terror, seized one of the muskets, and would have taken a chance shot out of one of the windows. Godfrey stopped him. "No!" said he. "In this darkness our shots will be lost, and we must not waste our ammunition! Wait for daylight!" He was right. The bullets would just as likely have struck the domestic as the wild animals--more likely in fact, for the former were the most numerous. To save them was now impossible. Once they were sacrificed, the wild beasts, thoroughly gorged, might quit the enclosure before sunrise. They would then see how to act to guard against a fresh invasion. It was most important too, during the dark night, to avoid as much as possible revealing to these animals the presence of human beings, whom they might prefer to the flock. Perhaps they would thus avoid a direct attack against Will Tree. As Tartlet was incapable of understanding either this reasoning or any other, Godfrey contented himself with depriving him of his weapon. The professor then went and threw himself on his bed and freely anathematized all travels and travellers and maniacs who could not remain quietly at their own firesides. Both his companions resumed their observations at the windows. Thence they beheld, without the power of interference, the horrible massacre which was taking place in the gloom. The cries of the sheep and the goats gradually diminished as the slaughter of the animals was consummated, although the greater part had escaped outside, where death, none the less certain, awaited them. This loss was irreparable for the little colony; but Godfrey was not then anxious about the future. The present was disquieting enough to occupy all his thoughts. There was nothing they could do, nothing they could try, to hinder this work of destruction. Godfrey and Carefinotu kept constant watch, and now they seemed to see new shadows coming up and passing into the palisade, while a fresh sound of footsteps struck on their ears. Evidently certain belated beasts, attracted by the odour of the blood which impregnated the air, had traced the scent up to Will Tree. They ran to and fro, they rushed round and round the tree and gave forth their hoarse and angry growls. Some of the shadows jumped on the ground like enormous cats. The slaughtered flock had not been sufficient to satisfy their rage. Neither Godfrey nor his companions moved. In keeping completely motionless they might avoid a direct attack. An unlucky shot suddenly revealed their presence and exposed them to the greatest danger.