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Some of them were slashed, and staggered to your house. But there is only one trail, and yet and yet, how could all that blood come from only one person? Well, the wounded man, let us say, staggered first to your house and then back here, and he wandered off, drunk and dying, God knows where. That's my theory." "A very good one," said I calmly. "And you are going to trail him?" "Yes." "When?"
Word drifted through to me that our transport billets at Ypres had been shelled and that Sergeant-Major Grant, "Soldier Bill," as he was called by our men, had been dangerously wounded on the way down to the trenches with ammunition. Macdonald, a gallant corporal of the quartermaster's department, had also been badly wounded and much regimental property destroyed and lost.
This put her into a great fit of the sulks, and I do not know with whom she would not have quarrelled if our conversation had not been put an end to by Oscar and Felix. Oscar. "Oh Mother, they are unloading the ship, and they have got some prisoners." Felix. "And, oh Mother, one poor prisoner is so wounded he is lame." Oscar. "And, Mother, we saw them bound, carried out of the boat." Felix.
Now, having cut the beast's throat to make him "hilal," according to Mussulman usage, and thinking we had done enough if I could only return to the first wounded bull and settle him too, we commenced retracing our steps, and by accident came on Grant.
There was an order that all lights should be put out by eight o'clock at night, in every prison; and it was doubtless proper; but this order was carried into execution with a rigor bordering on barbarity. On the least glimpse of light discoverable in the prison, the guard would fire in amongst us; and several were shot. Several Frenchmen were wounded.
While Zeisberger, who was skilled in surgery, attended to the wounded men, Jim barred the heavy door, shut the rude, swinging windows, and made the cabin temporarily a refuge from prowling savages. Outside the clamor increased. Shrill yells rent the air, long, rolling war-cries sounded above all the din.
From July to November two 'schools' of killers may be seen every day, either cruising to and fro across the entrance of the bay, or engaged in a Titanic combat with a whale a 'right' whale, a 'humpback, or the long, swift 'fin-back. Never have they been known to tackle the great sperm-whale, except when one of those mighty creatures has been wounded by his human enemies.
They are wonderfully fast, and their bounding pace makes them extremely difficult to hit while running. Even when standing they must be struck either through the head, neck, or shoulder, or they will rarely be killed on the spot; in any other part, if wounded, they will escape as though untouched, and die a miserable death in solitude.
One lassie outside was struck on the helmet by a piece of falling rock. If she had not had on her helmet she would have been killed. The shelling continued for six hours. The hospital was all the time filled with wounded men and there was plenty to be done twenty-four hours out of every day. The women moved about among the men as if they were their own brothers.
"You are right 'Little Mac's' the boy!" said the Captain. "He wants us all. The doctor told me this morning that I might go back, and I am going to-morrow." "The doctor? then you have been sick or wounded! What a fool I have been making of myself!" said the first speaker, generous as rough.
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