"Hullo, Ysouf! Get up, for shame--get up, man! And you--that we
called so brave!"
Ysouf lay still. Tristram bent forward and took his hand.
The hand came away from the body. It was icy cold.
Still holding it, Tristram leant back and stared; and as he stared
a pettish anger took him. He tossed the hand back on the body.
And now for the first time he began to hear; and as this lost sense
crept back to him he knew that the place was full of moaning, and
that somewhere close feet were trampling to and fro. The noise
caused him agony, and he put his two hands to his ears.
He was sitting in this posture when he felt something warm and moist
trickle down his body, which was naked to the waist. He took a hand
from his ear and put it to his breast. It was all wet, but in the
darkness nothing could be distinguished. Suspecting, however, that
it must be blood from some wound, and following the smear with his
fingers, he found that his shoulder, near the clavicle was pierced
right through. There was no pain.
Then he began to feel himself all over, and found another gash in the
left leg, below the knee. He searched no more, feeling that it was
useless, as he was bound to die in a little while. The men before
him and behind him were dead.
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