The sound of the shots had brought the bird out to see what was going on.

It stood motionless, blinking its eyes, the very mark I desired.
I pointed to it with my right hand, flung forward my pistol, and fired.
It rolled over as dead as stone, and Faulkner walked to pick it up.

He put back my pistols in the box, and we turned to seek the horses....
Then Grey came up to me.

His mouth was hard-set, but the lines were not of pride.

I saw that he too had been desperately afraid, and I rejoiced that others beside me had been at breaking-point.
"Our quarrel is at an end, sir ?" he said, and his voice was hesitating.
"Why, yes," I said.