They had already been busy all night, as those whose hurts had
not actually disabled them found their way into the camp. As he was
a Scotch officer he was carried to the lines occupied by Colonel
Henderson with his Scotch brigade. He was known to many of the
officers personally, and no time was lost in attending to him. He
was nearly unconscious again by the time that he reached the camp,
for the movement had caused the wound in his body to break out
afresh.
His armour was at once unbuckled, and his clothes having been cut
the surgeons proceeded to examine his wounds. They shook their heads
as they did so. Passing a probe into the wound they found that the
ball, breaking one of the ribs in its course, had gone straight
on. They turned him gently over.
"Here it is," the surgeon said, producing a flattened bullet. The
missile indeed had passed right through the body and had flattened
against the back piece, which its force was too far spent to
penetrate.
"Is the case hopeless, doctor?" one of the officers who was looking
on asked.
"It is well nigh hopeless," the doctor said, "but it is just
possible that it has not touched any vital part. The lad is young,
and I judge that he has not ruined his constitution, as most of
you have done, by hard drinking, so that there is just a chance
for him. There is nothing for me to do but to put a piece of lint
over the two holes, bandage it firmly, and leave it to nature.
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