I did not mean to move my camp that day, and I was standing outside my tent in my shirt-sleeves.

So you see that I had not even the collar of a coat to protect the nape of my neck.
I was fool enough to run after my helmet; and--you must have seen the same thing happen a hundred times--each time that I stooped to pick it up it skipped away; each time that I ran after it, it stopped and waited for me to catch it up.

And before one was aware what one was doing, one had run a quarter of a mile.

I went down, I was told, like a log just when I had the helmet in my hand.

How long ago it happened I don't quite know, for I was ill for a time, and afterwards it was difficult to keep count, since one couldn't tell the difference between day and night." Durrance, in a word, had gone blind.