It was some time before he found his cap.

He did not know whether his face was still bleeding.
Walking blindly, every step making him sick with pain, he went back to the pond and washed his face and hands.

The icy water hurt, but helped to bring him back to himself.

He crawled back up the hill to the tram.
He wanted to get to his mother--he must get to his mother--that was his blind intention.

He covered his face as much as he could, and struggled sickly along.