"Hello, boys," said a weak voice, which was unmistakably Alf Russell's. "Hello, Alf," said Si delightedly. "I'm so glad to see you. I've bin huntin' everywhere for you. What's happened to you? Badly hurt?" "Nothing, only the left side o' my head tore out," said Alf feebly. "Something struck me, probably a bomb-shell, just as I was going up the bank after you. I went down to our Surgeon, but he was too busy to attend to me. I then found the brigade hospital, but the Surgeons there were too busy, too. They gave me a roll of bandages, and told me to fix it up myself. I did it with the help of one of the men who was waiting to have his leg dressed. I fancy I did quite a neat piece of bandaging, as well as the Surgeons themselves could've done it. Don't you think so?" "Great Scott!" gasped Si, "you couldn't be walkin' around with the side of your head knocked out. I'm astonished at you." "So'm I," returned Alf placidly. "I'm surprised that I'm doing as well as I am. But I gave myself good attendance, and that's a great thing. I'm awful hungry. Got anything to eat? Where's my haversack?" "Here it is," said Si, readily. "And here's a cup o' hot coffee. I'll brile you a piece o' meat. But really, I don't think you ought to eat anything before the Surgeon sees you. Mebbe it won't be good for you." "I'll chance it," said Alf desperately, reaching for the cup of coffee. "I'm sure it'll be better for me to eat something." "Le's go down and see the Surgeon," insisted Si. "No," protested Alf, "it ain't hurting me much now, and he's awful busy with other men, so we hadn't better interrupt him." "The Surgeon ought to see you at once, Alf," interjected Shorty. "Here comes one of 'em now. Doctor, will you please look at this boy." "Certainly," said the Surgeon, stopping on his way. "I guess I can spare a minute. Take off that bandage, my boy." "Don't mind me. Doctor," said Alf. "'Taint hurting me now, at all, scarcely. I did it up very carefully." "Take off the bandage at once, I tell you," said the Surgeon imperatively. "I haven't any time to waste. Let me see your wound." Alf set down his cup of coffee, and began laboriously unwinding the long bandage, while the rest stood around in anxious expectation. Yards of folds came off from around his forehead and chin, and then he reached that around his nose and the back of his head. Still the ghastly edges of the terrible wound did not develop. Finally the blood-soaked last layer came off, and revealed where a bullet had made a shallow but ugly-looking furrow across the cheek and made a nick in the ear. "Alf, that rebel come dumbed nigh missin' you," said the greatly relieved Si. "If you should happen to ketch cold in that it wouldn't git well for a week," added Shorty. "Give me that bandage," said the Surgeon just before he hurried away. "Take this sticking-plaster and draw the lips of the wound together, and if you keep the dirt out it may heal without a scar." CHAPTER XVIII. AN ARTILLERY DUEL