His hair was wondrously tousled, and some straggling, moving locks hung over the cloth of the bandage down toward his forehead.

His jacket and shirt were open at the throat, and exposed his young bronzed neck.

There could be seen spasmodic gulpings at his throat.
His fingers twined nervously about his rifle.

He wished that it was an engine of annihilating power.

He felt that he and his companions were being taunted and derided from sincere convictions that they were poor and puny.