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Narrative Continued by the Doctor: End of the First Day’s Fighting

Afterreloading,wewalkeddowntheoutsideofthepalisadetoseetothefallenenemy.Hewasstonedeadshotthroughtheheart.

Webegantorejoiceoverourgoodsuccesswhenjustatthatmomentapistolcrackedinthebush,aballwhistledclosepastmyear,andpoorTomRedruthstumbledandfellhislengthontheground.BoththesquireandIreturnedtheshot,butaswehadnothingtoaimat,itisprobableweonlywastedpowder.ThenwereloadedandturnedourattentiontopoorTom.

ThecaptainandGraywerealreadyexamininghim,andIsawwithhalfaneyethatallwasover.

Ibelievethereadinessofourreturnvolleyhadscatteredthemutineersoncemore,forweweresufferedwithoutfurthermolestationtogetthepooroldgamekeeperhoistedoverthestockadeandcarried,groaningandbleeding,intothelog-house.

Pooroldfellow,hehadnotutteredonewordofsurprise,complaint,fear,orevenacquiescencefromtheverybeginningofourtroublestillnow,whenwehadlaidhimdowninthelog-housetodie.HehadlainlikeaTrojanbehindhismattressinthegallery;hehadfollowedeveryordersilently,doggedly,andwell;hewastheoldestofourpartybyascoreofyears;andnow,sullen,old,serviceableservant,itwashethatwastodie.

Thesquiredroppeddownbesidehimonhiskneesandkissedhishand,cryinglikeachild.

"BeIgoing,doctor?"heasked.

"Tom,myman,"saidI,"you’regoinghome."

"IwishIhadhadalickatthemwiththegunfirst,"hereplied.

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