Alan had a gun in his hand, and mad with rage at what had happened, he raised it and swung on him as he would upon a rabbit.

He was a quick and practised shot and his skill did not fail him now, for just as the dwarf was vanishing behind a tree, the bullet caught him and next instant he was seen rolling over and over upon its further side.
"That very nice," said Jeekie reflectively, "very nice indeed, but I think we best move out of this." "Aren't you hurt ?" gasped Alan.

"Your back is full of arrows." "Don't feel nothing, Major," he answered, "best cork mattress, 25/3 at Stores, very good for poisoned arrow, but leave him behind now, because perhaps points work through as I run, one scratch do trick," and as he spoke Jeekie untied a string or several strings, letting the little mattress fall to the ground.
"Great pity leave all those goods," said Jeekie, surveying the loads that the porters had cast away, "but what says Book?
Life more than raiment.

Also take no thought for morrow.

Dwarf people do that for us.
Come, Major, make tracks," and dashing at a bag of cartridges which he cast about his neck, a trifling addition to his other impedimenta, and a small case of potted meats that he hitched under his arm, he poked his master in the back with the muzzle of his full-cocked gun as a signal that it was time to start.
"Keep that cursed thing off me," said Alan furiously.