We then discovered that his left leg was virtually useless, and that in general he was in a bad plight.

He had been there for eight days in that condition, crawling round on one knee and his hands to keep a fire and to cook his food.
"But how did you get hurt ?" Addison asked.
"That Alf did it!" Halstead cried; and then, with tears still flowing, he went on to tell the story--his side of it.
While getting their breakfast on the third morning after they had reached the camp, they had had a dispute about making their coffee; hard names had followed, and at last, in high temper, Alfred had sprung up declaring that he would not camp with Halstead another hour.

Grabbing the gun, he had started off.
"That's my gun! Leave it here! Drop it!" Halstead had shouted angrily and had run after him.
Down near the bank of the stream, Halstead had overtaken him and had tried to wrest the gun from him.

Alfred had turned, struck him, and then given him so hard a push that he had fallen over sidewise with his foot down between two logs.

Alfred had run on without even looking back.
The story did not astonish us.