There was a sudden change in his face.
Trent, who had seen men die before, let go his hand and turned away without any visible emotion.

Then he drew himself straight, and set his teeth hard together.
"I'm going to get out of this," he said to himself slowly and with fierce emphasis.

"I'm not for dying and I won't die!" He stumbled on a few steps, a little black snake crept out of its bed of mud, and looked at him with yellow eyes protruding from its upraised head.

He kicked it savagely away--a crumpled, shapeless mass.

It was a piece of brutality typical of the man.