The guides, fearful lest their presence among the traveller’s attendants might occasion a war between these bandits and their nation, here demanded permission to remain behind during the attack upon the kraal, and their request was unhappily complied with. Le Vaillant himself, conceiving that darkness would be favourable to his views, resolved to defer the execution of his project until night. They accordingly encamped upon the spot, and a little after midnight set off in the greatest silence. “Soon afterward,” says he, “we perceived, at the distance of about three-quarters of a league, the light of several fires; and advancing a little farther, we heard songs, cries of joy, and immoderate shouts of laughter. The bandits were amusing themselves, and making good cheer at my expense. Their clamour, however, had one good effect; for my dogs began to set up so loud a barking on drawing near the kraal, that it became necessary to muzzle them, so that but for the frightful tumult within we should infallibly have been betrayed. I was now, therefore, in a state of warfare with savages, and resolved to employ against them the resources of art, should they oppose me with superior force. The moment not being favourable for commencing the attack, I put it off until the break of day, and in order to conduct it in the most advantageous manner, I intrenched myself and my troop behind a copse, which, by affording us an impenetrable shield against the attacks of our enemies, would render our own doubly terrible. The copse, in fact, was sufficiently extensive to contain and conceal all my musketeers; and each of us, by pushing aside or breaking off a few branches, immediately formed a sort of porthole through which we could fire. In this position we patiently and silently awaited the moment for action. The villains themselves appeared, by their conduct, to favour our views. Their noisy merriment died away by degrees; and at length, yielding to fatigue, they retired into their huts to rest, and the noise entirely ceased.