yell which went echoing up the valley.

"Hah!" ejaculated Syd, for he knew it was a good sign. "Hold still,
Pan," he continued, gently; "let me see where you are hurt."

"Let him be, sir. I've killed um, I know I have!"

Syd tried to find where the boy was wounded, but at every touch Pan
shrieked out as if in agony, and kicked out his legs and drew himself up
again as if trying to make himself into a ball.

"It's all over with the poor lad, sir," groaned Strake. "Better let him
die in peace, and I gives myself up, sir. Nothin' but misfortun' here."

"Try and bear it, Pan," said Syd, gently. "I must see where you are
hurt before I can do you any good."

But the boy shrieked out wildly every time he was touched, and after
many essays, Syd felt ready to give up in despair.

"Ha' mussy on us!" groaned the boatswain. "Where's he got it, sir?"

"I'm afraid it is somewhere in the body, Strake," replied Syd, softly;
"but I don't like to give him pain.--Is the hurt in your chest, Pan?"

The boy shrieked again, as a hand was slid into his bosom.

"I'm afraid it is there, Barney; I ought to examine him and stop the
bleeding."

"Yes, sir; course you ought; but I don't like to see you hurt the boy."

"No, it is very terrible, but I'll be as gentle as I can. Come, Pan,
lad, be a man, and let me see where you are hurt."

Syd touched him again, but there was another yell and kick, not before
the boy pressed his chin down in his chest, and cried out more wildly
than ever.

"Is his spine injured?" cried Roylance.

"Can't be," replied Syd, "or he could not kick out like he does."

"And for the same reason his legs must be all right," said Roylance.

"Spine of his back and his legs," said Strake; "well, that's something
to be thankful for."

"The bullet must have lodged in his chest," said Syd, "and I dare say
perhaps has injured him fatally. No blood visible; he must be bleeding
inside."

There was a pause after a couple more attempts to inspect the injury.

Then, after a little thought, Syd said, firmly--

"Pan, I must examine your wound."

The boy curled up more tightly.

"It is of no use, Strake," continued Syd, firmly, and unconsciously
imitating Doctor Liss with a stupid patient on the south coast; "it is
my duty to examine your boy's wound. He may bleed to death if it is not
done. Two or three of you must hold him."

A yell burst from Pan at this announcement, and Syd and Roylance
exchanged gla