must leave him." We all three asked
permission to stay. To which Sir Elliot replied, "I don't want to lose
an officer and three men. Come away, men!" We then moved the poor fellow
into a cutting about two feet deep and three feet wide, and arranged a
haversack under his head. As we loitered, each unwilling to leave him
first, Sir Elliot thundered at us to come on, saying, "I don't know why
it is, but a Yeoman never will obey an order till you've sworn at him."
Then reluctantly we set off in single file, working our way back by the
bank of a stream, and still under cover of the rise in the ground, a
little way up which we found one of our Sussex men, with his horse
bogged to the neck. Further on we paused a moment, and the Fife man,
saying that he thought the wound was not mortal, suggested that it would
be well for somebody to be with Stanley so as to prevent him from
rolling on it, and then asked permission to return. My Fife friend had
not seen what I had. He had only seen where the bullet went in, not
where it came out. Seeing that the captain was about to give him
permission, I said "Mr. Stanley is my officer, sir, and I have the right
to go," and he let me. I gave one my almost-empty bandolier, and another
my haversack, telling him it contained three letters for the post,
and--if necessary, to post them. My rifle I had already thrown into a
ditch at Sir Elliot's command. Then I worked my way back, hoping that I
should not be shot before reaching him. I got there all right, and
evidently unseen; lying down by him, I arranged my hat so as to keep
the sun off his face, and cutting off part of my left shirt-sleeve,
with the water from my bottle, used half of it to bathe his temples and
wipe his bubbling, half-open mouth. The other I moistened, and laid over
the wound. He was quite unconscious, of course, and his case hopeless.
Once I thought he was gone, but was mistaken. The second time, however,
there was no mistake.

I waited by the brave man--who had been our troop leader for the last
fortnight, and who had, I am sure, never known fear--for some time
deliberating what to do. Shots were still being fired from somewhere in
my vicinity, while our firing I had gloomily noted had receded, and
finally ceased. By-and-bye, all was silent, then a bird came and chirped
near me and a butterfly flitted by. At length, as it appeared to me
useless to wait by a dead man, I determined to get back to camp, if
possible, instead of