"He's out of his head, as I told you, an' he's like to be for many hours,"
said the lantern bearer. "It's a shore thing that I won't shoot him
to-morrow, nor he won't shoot me."
He leaned over Warner and carefully examined the wound.
"He's lucky, after all," he said, "the bullet went in just under the
right shoulder, but it curved, as bullets have a way of doin' sometimes,
an' has come out on the side. There ain't no lead in him now, which is
good. He was pow'ful lucky, too, in not bein' hit in the head, 'cause he
ain't got no such skull as Sam has, not within a mile of it. His skull
wouldn't have turned no bullet. He has lost a power of blood, but if you
kin get him back to camp, an' use the med'cines which you Yanks have in
such lots an' which we haven't, he may get well."
"That's good advice," said Dick. "Help me up with him."
"Take him on your back. That's the best way to carry a sick man."
He set down his lantern, took up Warner bodily and put him on Dick's back.
"I guess you can carry him all right," he said. "I'd light you with the
lantern a piece of the way, but I've been out here long enough.
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