SURGERY. 
97 
meantime, averring between his groans, “ that it 
was good enough for him ! He had always said 
a man who is fool enough to draw a loaded gun 
toward him by the muzzle, ought to be shot ! ” 
When this first surgical operation was finished, 
he rose up and staggered to the roadside in an 
attempt to get into the wagon. Too faint from 
loss of blood, he again sank down on the ground. 
“ Oh, if I had some water ! ” he moaned ; “ I 
might have strength to get in.” 
The heat was already aggravating the terrible 
thirst that accompanies a gun-shot wound. 
They had passed a ditch a quarter of a mile or 
more back. Blocking the wheels and unfasten- 
ing a tug, that the horses might not move off 
with the wagon, Mrs. Maxwell seized a pail and 
ran back for water. 
Her sister, with handkerchief pressed to the 
wound to staunch its bleeding, knelt by the old 
soldier, who was in a measure repeating a battle- 
field experience. As she fanned him with his 
hat— the only thing within reach to give shade 
or air to either of them — -he told her, in broken 
sentences, how he had caught sight of the bird 
again, and hurried to the wagon for the gun. 
Not wishing to disturb any one, he had seized it 
by its muzzle and drawn it toward him. The 
trigger had caught on something, and the charge 
had passed within a few inches of her head, and 
7 
