Once more I saluted them to the best of my ability, though on this occasion only three men and a horse fell.

The fifth shot was a clean miss because they came on in such a scattered formation that I had to turn from side to side to fire.
Now at last the game was up, for the simple reason that I had no more cartridges save two in my double-barrelled pistol.

It may be asked why.
The answer is, want of foresight.

Too many cartridges in one's pocket are apt to chafe on camel-back and so is a belt full of them.

In those days also the engagements were few in which a man fired over fifteen.
I had forty or fifty more in a bag, which bag Savage with his usual politeness had taken and hung upon his saddle without saying a word to me.