The man was unnerved, unable at first to comprehend what had occurred.

He was saved as by a miracle, and his great form shook from head to foot.
Then, as his eyes rested on the outstretched body of the Sergeant, hate conquered every other feeling; he staggered to his feet, picked up the gun lying in the snow, walked across, and brutally kicked the prostrate form.

There was no response, no movement.
"All I wish is that I 'd been the one to kill yer," he growled savagely, grinning down.

"Hell of a good shot, though I reckon the blame fool meant it for me." He threw the rifle forward, in readiness, and moved cautiously over toward Hughes.
"Deader than a door-nail," he muttered, pressing back the buffalo coat, and staring contemptuously down into the white, staring face.

"I wonder how that coward ever happened to be here--laying out for me, I reckon!" He straightened up and laughed, glancing furtively about.
"Some good joke that.