But they suffered more hurt themselves.

See, here are faint traces of blood, yet staining the grass, and here is a trail leading out of the bushes and into the grass that lines the slopes of the hill.

The trail goes forward, and then it comes back.

It is quite clear to both of us, Dagaeoga, that a warrior, creeping through the long grass, tried to stalk the hill, but met a bullet instead.

Those who lay upon the hill and defended themselves were not asleep.