I have been ridden over by fifteen hundred cuirassiers A and by the Russian hussars of Grodno, and I had no harm from that.

But guns are very bad." "And the calf ?" I asked.
"_Pouf!_ It is only a wolf bite," said he.

"You would not think how I came by it! You will understand that my horse and I had been struck, the horse killed, and I with my ribs broken by the tumbril.

Well, it was cold--oh, bitter, bitter!--the ground like iron, and no one to help the wounded, so that they froze into such shapes as would make you smile.

I too felt that I was freezing, so what did I do?
I took my sword, and I opened my dead horse, so well as I could, and I made space in him for me to lie, with one little hole for my mouth.