Still I could look and take note, for I distinctly saw Zikali thrust his huge head, first into the smoke of what I will call my fire, next into that of Saduko's fire, and then lean back, blowing the stuff in clouds from his mouth and nostrils.
Afterwards I saw him roll over on to his side and lie quite still with his arms outstretched; indeed, I noticed that one of his fingers seemed to be in the left-hand fire and reflected that it would be burnt off.

In this, however, I must have been mistaken, since I observed subsequently that it was not even scorched.
Thus Zikali lay for a long while till I began to wonder whether he were not really dead.

Dead enough he seemed to be, for no corpse could have stayed more stirless.

But that night I could not keep my thoughts fixed on Zikali or anything.

I merely noted these circumstances in a mechanical way, as might one with whom they had nothing whatsoever to do.