acket," said one of the men.
"Look, there's quite a big hole."

"It has not broken the skin," I said, examining his back.

"No, of course not. Here, give me that jacket again, you. Let's get it
on. This is all waste of time."

He winced a good deal and looked very white; but he bravely mastered his
feeling of faintness, and struggled once more into his tunic, suffering
greatly, as I could see by the pallor breaking through his sun-browned
skin.

"Stings a bit," he said to me as he fastened the buttons; "but it might
have been worse--eh, Val? I always was a thick-skinned fellow, and it
turns out lucky now. How far is the nearest skirmisher?"

"A good thousand yards, I should say," I replied.

"Good, and no mistake, for the distance has saved me, Val, my lad. But
what's that: over half a mile--eh? Not bad shooting, and shows they
must have good rifles, bless 'em! Now then, hand me that
cartridge-belt, and I should be glad if you'd pass it over my head, for
I'm not very ready to move."

"You will have to let the doctor see the place," I said as I extended
the bandolier so as to pass it over his head.

"Doctor? Faugh! What do I want with a doctor for this? I'm going to
keep quiet, my lad, or the doctor and the Colonel between them will be
wanting to invalid me."

"Oh!" I exclaimed sharply.

"Hullo!" he cried. "Don't say you've got it too, lad!"

"No, no. Look here," I said, and I held out the cartridge-belt to show
where a case was flattened--the brass exterior and the bullet within--
while the spring-like holder was broken, and the leather beneath sprayed
with lead.

"What's the matter?" said Denham, looking round, and wincing with pain
as he changed his position.

"It was no spent bullet that struck you," I said, dragging out the
damaged cartridge. "You have the bullet in its brass case to thank for
saving your life. Look how they're flattened."

He took the bolt in his fingers, and then held them out, examining all
carefully without a word.

"Humph!" he ejaculated at last. "That was a narrow escape. I think I
shall save that flattened bullet. Not the sort of thing a man would
choose for a back-plate, but it did its work. Yes, I must save that
flattened bit and the bullet the Boer shot. They'll be worth taking out
of a drawer some day to show people, if we got safe through the war.
There, I'm all right now. Attention! March!"

The firing had ceased as he gave the orders, the fir