154 The Confessions of a Poacher. 



and blood spurted out in little jets. Then I 

 turned about, determined to close with my 

 opponent if he was inclined for further rough- 

 ness. But he was not. When he saw that 

 the blood was almost blinding me he dropped 

 his hedge-stake, and ran, apparently terrified 

 at what he had done. I leaned for a few 

 moments against the wall, then dragged myself 

 over, and started for a stream which ran down 

 the field. But I felt weaker at every step, and 

 soon crept into a bed of tall brackens, and 

 plugged the wound in my head with a handful 

 of wet moss, keeping it in position with my 

 neckerchief. After this I munched some 

 bread and hard cheese, sucked the dew from 

 the fern fronds, and then fell into a broken 

 sleep. I must have slept for four or five 

 hours, when I woke thirsty and feverish, and 

 very weak. I tried to walk, but again and 

 again fell down. Then I crawled for about a 

 hundred yards, but this caused my wound to 

 bleed afresh, and I fainted. Just as day was 

 coming a farm labourer came across, and 

 kindly helped me to his cottage. He and his 



