It does not take long to die, nor to kill. A life is present or absent, and it is an instant passed between those extremities.
We made show of force; he resisted. He was intent on fighting and alarming the whole neighborhood. We could not have done other than we did, for he screamed, and in one moment more, would have discharged his piece and thus roused the countryside.
’Twas Bono killed him, I still believe, though ’twas my bayonet, inexpertly applied, which became lodged between his ribs.