One day, an old man came by who had lost his knife.

He only asked you to cut a couple of sticks and be careful not to lose his knife.

He lost his knife and gained a broken spear, he could not have said how.

By then I was pretty cold, but I'd lost my knife and couldn't find any dry wood or anything to make fire.

The man who had lost his knife was not yet through.

One of mine would not have lost his knife.

Vermin fell to the ground, almost losing his knife.

That's where I got this, and lost my own knife.

He spun around and went down, losing his knife as he fell.

"Whoever lost his knife didn't want it back," someone observed.