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THE BATTLE OF TSU-SHIMA

leg was standing in a pool of blood, but the leg itself felt sound enough.

It was 3 p.m.

“Can you manage to go? Stop — I’ll tell off some one to go with you,” said Danchich, making what seemed to me an unnecessary fuss.

I was annoyed, and angrily said: “Who wants to be accompanied?” and bravely started to go down the ladder, not realising what had happened. When a small splinter had wounded me in the waist at the beginning of the fight, it had hurt me; but this time I felt nothing.

Later, in the hospital, when carried there on a stretcher, I understood why it is that during a fight one hears neither groans nor shouts. All that comes afterwards. Apparently our feel-

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