Only the one we know of, who had fired at Lukashka, though wounded in many places was still alive.

Like a wounded hawk all covered with blood (blood was flowing from a wound under his right eye), pale and gloomy, he looked about him with wide--open excited eyes and clenched teeth as he crouched, dagger in hand, still prepared to defend himself.

The cornet went up to him as if intending to pass by, and with a quick movement shot him in the ear.

The Chechen started up, but it was too late, and he fell.
The Cossacks, quite out of breath, dragged the bodies aside and took the weapons from them.

Each of the red-haired Chechens had been a man, and each one had his own individual expression.