Sometimes, if they have poison, they dip the notched slug in that too.

And, ah, what a wound one makes! Dum-dums are a joke beside such!" Another shot sounded.

Many cracked out along the dune.

All up and down the crest of the tawny sand-hills, red under the sun now close to the horizon, the fusillade ran and rippled.

On _Nissr_, metal plates rang with the impact of the slugs, or glass crashed.