Poor fellow! thought I, he is done for, and kneeling down by him I began to search for his wound as well as his struggles would allow.
'Oh, the hole in my back!' he yelled.

'I am murdered.

I am dead.

Oh, Annette!' I searched again, but could see no wound.

Then the truth dawned on me -- the man was frightened, not hurt.
'Get up!' I shouted, 'Get up.