Open country lay there and the promise of safety.

My new friends set off in pursuit; but a couple of revolver shots, heard by me, but not understood, awoke their caution.

Good Samaritans, but not men of war, they returned to where I lay senseless on the ground, congratulating themselves and me that an enemy so well armed should run and not stand his ground.

They forced a drink of rough wine down my throat, and in a minute or two I opened my eyes.

They were for carrying me to a hospital; I would have none of it.