"
The Corporal was lying at full length in the dust of the parade-ground,
a rifle under him.
The Corporal was lying at full length in the dust of the parade-ground,
a rifle under him.
Kipling - Poems
He had lost the satisfaction of killing Losson in the desired
way: hut here was a helpless body to his hand. Should be slip in another
cartridge, and blow off the head, or with the butt smash in the white
face? He stopped to consider, and a cry went up from the far side of
the parade-ground: "He's killed Jerry Blazes! " But in the shelter of the
well-pillars Simmons was safe except when he stepped out to fire. "I'll
blow yer 'andsome 'ead off, Jerry Blazes," said Simmons, reflectively.
"Six an' three is nine an one is ten, an' that leaves me another
nineteen, an' one for myself. " He tugged at the string of the second
packet of ammunition. Corporal Slane crawled out of the shadow of a bank
into the moonlight.
"I see you! " said Simmons. "Come a bit furder on an' I'll do for you. "
"I'm comm'," said Corporal Slane, briefly; "you've done a bad day's
work, Sim. Come out 'ere an' come back with me. "
"Come to,"--laughed Simmons, sending a cartridge home with his thumb.
"Not before I've settled you an' Jerry Blazes.
"
The Corporal was lying at full length in the dust of the parade-ground,
a rifle under him. Some of the less-cautious men in the distance
shouted: "Shoot 'im! Shoot 'im, Slane! "
"You move 'and or foot, Slane," said Simmons, "an' I'll kick Jerry
Blazes' 'ead in, and shoot you after. "
"I ain't movin'," said the Corporal, raising his head; "you daren't 'it
a man on 'is legs. Let go o' Jerry Blazes an' come out o' that with your
fistes. Come an' 'it me. You daren't, you bloomin' dog-shooter! "
"I dare. "
"You lie, you man-sticker. You sneakin', Sheeny butcher, you lie. See
there! " Slane kicked the rifle away, and stood up in the peril of his
life. "Come on, now! "
The temptation was more than Simmons could resist, for the Corporal in
his white clothes offered a perfect mark.
"Don't misname me," shouted Simmons, firing as he spoke.
way: hut here was a helpless body to his hand. Should be slip in another
cartridge, and blow off the head, or with the butt smash in the white
face? He stopped to consider, and a cry went up from the far side of
the parade-ground: "He's killed Jerry Blazes! " But in the shelter of the
well-pillars Simmons was safe except when he stepped out to fire. "I'll
blow yer 'andsome 'ead off, Jerry Blazes," said Simmons, reflectively.
"Six an' three is nine an one is ten, an' that leaves me another
nineteen, an' one for myself. " He tugged at the string of the second
packet of ammunition. Corporal Slane crawled out of the shadow of a bank
into the moonlight.
"I see you! " said Simmons. "Come a bit furder on an' I'll do for you. "
"I'm comm'," said Corporal Slane, briefly; "you've done a bad day's
work, Sim. Come out 'ere an' come back with me. "
"Come to,"--laughed Simmons, sending a cartridge home with his thumb.
"Not before I've settled you an' Jerry Blazes.
"
The Corporal was lying at full length in the dust of the parade-ground,
a rifle under him. Some of the less-cautious men in the distance
shouted: "Shoot 'im! Shoot 'im, Slane! "
"You move 'and or foot, Slane," said Simmons, "an' I'll kick Jerry
Blazes' 'ead in, and shoot you after. "
"I ain't movin'," said the Corporal, raising his head; "you daren't 'it
a man on 'is legs. Let go o' Jerry Blazes an' come out o' that with your
fistes. Come an' 'it me. You daren't, you bloomin' dog-shooter! "
"I dare. "
"You lie, you man-sticker. You sneakin', Sheeny butcher, you lie. See
there! " Slane kicked the rifle away, and stood up in the peril of his
life. "Come on, now! "
The temptation was more than Simmons could resist, for the Corporal in
his white clothes offered a perfect mark.
"Don't misname me," shouted Simmons, firing as he spoke.
