This page has been validated.
 
CONTRACT OF CORPORAL TWING
379

gods he worshiped that the sergeants had been men who knew their work, that he had learned it well, hateful though it was.

The smoking muzzle just clear of his mate's dead body, he sent a tentative shot or two droning up the gorge. The range found, the tap-tapping of the gun quickened to the steady roar of the weapon served by expert hands. The Turkish fire died away, as the crew threw themselves down to escape the steel messengers of death.

As soon as their fire ceased, he ceased in turn, watching the ledge cautiously, above the dead body.

Telescope and helio had been smashed, but the night lamp, safe in the depression, had escaped injury.

The heat grew and grew as the sun reached the meridian, and began sliding down toward the Tigris and Lake Shari. The wounded man, unprotected, burning with the raging fever induced by a gunshot wound, had not uttered a complaint since that first sharp cry. Twing raised his head, and rested it on his knee, placing his own body so that it would shade the other somewhat.

The long afternoon dragged its seemingly interminable length across the brazen sky. Now and again the Turks, perched on their dizzy pinnacle, sent a desultory shot in the direction of Twing and his wounded companion. Each time