“Yes, I’ve got it,” he muttered. “Just look. It hurts horribly. I say, though, that’s a good sign—eh?”
The men halted involuntarily behind the stones, and Denham bravely kept his seat till all were under cover, when, refusing to dismount, he slipped off his bandolier and began to unbutton his tunic.
“You had better let us help you down,” I suggested.
“No; I don’t feel bad enough,” he said through his teeth, speaking viciously as if in great pain. “I don’t think I’m much hurt. See any blood?”
“No,” I replied as he threw off his tunic and laid it across his horse’s neck. “Here, look. That’s it. All! there it lies.” For I had made a snatch at a long-shaped bullet, missed it twice, and then sat pointing out where it had fallen. Joeboy snatched it up and handed it to me.
“Humph!” said Denham; “then it hasn’t gone through me, or it would have fallen from my back.”
“Instead of your chest,” I said. “It must have been partly spent with the long distance it travelled.”
“I wish it had been quite spent,” said Denham through his teeth, “Oh, what a fuss I’m making about such a trifle! Nothing worse than having a stone thrown at one.”
“It’s gone right through the back of your jacket,” said one of the men. “Look, there’s quite a big hole.”
“It has not broken the skin,” I said, examining his back.