To prevent in some measure the rain trickling down my neck, I took a
rubber sheet, used to cover the horses, tied the two corners together,
making a sort of cape of it, and put it round my neck.
Then I settled myself down to hold on to the limber and think at the
same time of the great game of which I had become an infinitesimal
part. I was sitting on the right hand side of the limber close to the
wheel and, before long, the effort to think and hold on at the same time
was too much for me, and I fell into a fairly sound sleep, Sergeant
Johnson, my companion, doing likewise.
While dozing, the string from the end of the cape engaged itself with
the axle, wound itself round and round and started pulling me down. When
I awoke it had a grip on me and every moment I was being drawn closer to
the wheel. I yelled to the driver to stop the horse, but the rattling
and rumble of the limber and the gun carriage drowned my call; neither
he nor the Sergeant heard me. Numb with cold, absolutely helpless, my
head almost down to the wheel, I gave one more yell for dear life.
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