There were overturned wagons like sun-dried bowlders.

The bed of the former torrent was choked with the bodies of horses and splintered parts of war machines.
It had come to pass that his wound pained him but little.

He was afraid to move rapidly, however, for a dread of disturbing it.

He held his head very still and took many precautions against stumbling.

He was filled with anxiety, and his face was pinched and drawn in anticipation of the pain of any sudden mistake of his feet in the gloom.
His thoughts, as he walked, fixed intently upon his hurt.