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Okunuşu: / wuːnd / Okunuş kuralları
Dil: İngilizce
Hecelenişi: wound
Ekler: wounds
Türü: isim, fiil


i. , k.dili Oh! Hayret!
i. , argo. hayret uyandıran kimse veya şey, çok makbul şey.
f. , argo. şaşırtmak, hayrete düşürmek.

wound için örnek cümleler:

(Üzerinde olduğunuz kelimenin anlamını görmek için 'CTRL' tuşuna basınız veya kelimeye tıklayınız.!)
  • Though our hero was much mortified at this triumph of his rival, he made a virtue of necessity, and retired with great complaisance, wishing that Miss Biddy might never again be the subject of such a disagreeable dispute. Whether the patient was frighted at this altercation, or displeased with her mother's decision against an agreeable young fellow, who had, as it were, recalled her from the grave, and made himself master of the secret that rankled at her heart, or the disease had wound up her nerves for another paroxysm, certain it is, she all of a sudden broke forth into a violent peal of laughter, which was succeeded by the most doleful cries, and other expressions of grief; then she relapsed into a fit, attended with strong convulsions, to the unspeakable terror of the old gentlewoman, who entreated Doctor Looby to be expeditious in his prescription. Accordingly he seized the pen with great confidence, and a whole magazine of antihysteric medicines were, in different forms, externally and internally applied.
  • The poor boy was terribly alarmed at this. He had wit enough to perceive that prompt action was needed, for his friend was in very great danger, while the buffalo runners were by that time out of sight in front, and the camp was far behind. In this crisis Billie acted with decision. First making the bandage over the wound more secure, and pouring a little more water into the mouth of the wounded man, he went to a clump of willows, and cut a stout switch, then, remounting, he turned on his track and made straight for the camp as fast as his willing pony could be made to lay hoof to the ground.
  • "Hedging, pure, unadulterated hedging! I didn't look for that from you. Shall I tell you what we both think of him? He is a farce and a fake, and I rather think that I am going to run him out of the State pretty soon. . . . What would you say of a doctor who couldn't tell the difference between a wound made by a man bumping his head when he fell and by a smashing blow with a gun-barrel? Patten doesn't guess yet that it was the blow Moraga gave me the other night which came so close to ringing down the sable curtains for me."
  • He believes they were all caused by a microbe called acinetobacter, first detected in the wounds of us servicemen in vietnam.
  • Up to this point none of those who are principally concerned in this tale had received any hurt, beyond a few insignificant scratches, but soon after the death of the little boy, Tom Riggles received a severe wound in the leg from a splinter. He was carried below by Bill and Ben.
  • At last the wound in my skull healed, after a clever English naval surgeon had removed some bits of splintered bone, and my strength came back to me. I was and still am an American subject, and in those days we had no consul at Zanzibar, if there is one there now, of which I am not sure, and of course no warship. The English made what inquiries they could for me, but could find out little or nothing, since all the country about Kilwa was in possession of Arab slave-traders who were supported by a ruffian who called himself the Sultan of Zanzibar."""
  • This question seemed to perplex them, for they saw that their interrogator knew the difference between a war and a hunting arrow--the former being barbed in order to render its extraction from the wound difficult, while the head of the latter is round and can be drawn out of game that has been killed, and used again.
  • And as the wheel dropped Trajan Chaundran head-first towards the trough, from beyond the craggy, shattered high walls and through the deep gloom they came, corpses, men and women and children, stumbling forth, their eyes blank, their pallid faces tinged gray in death, their mouths black and cracked and drooling, their bodies covered in all manner of wounds and burns. Many were missing limbs; Maggie choked back the grief of a woman carrying a crying child without legs. Some of the zombies were still dressed in the tattered and burned livery of (Maggie guessed) Gyssian-vanquished Aquanian nations, but most were naked. They lurched past Maggie and surrounded the wheel, where they began marching in a clockwise fashion around it. They moaned and groaned as though in never-ending anguish.
  • Jolly Roger was sobbing. He was sobbing, in a strange, hard man- fashion, as he tore open Cassidy's shirt and saw the red wound that went clean through Cassidy's right breast just under the shoulder. And Peter still heard that strange sound coming from his lips, a moaning as if for breath, as his master ran and brought up water, and worked over the fallen man. And then he got under Cassidy, and rose up with him on his shoulders, and staggered off with him toward the creek. There he found a path, a narrow foot trail, and not once did he stop with his burden until he came into a little clearing, out of which Cassidy had seen the smoke rising. In this clearing was a cabin, and from the cabin came an old man to meet him--an old man and a girl.
  • The trail wound uphill through the trees towards the crest of a ridge above and was barely wide enough for them to ride abreast. The aunt now wore the sword strapped to her belt. Although the great mare which the boy rode remained strong, the woman had slowed to a walk to rest the gelding which was tiring after a long day. They took advantage of the slower pace to talk and the woman had just told him something.
  • Paul was lifted gently, after receiving treatment from the surgeon of the fleet, and carried to a boat, where he regained consciousness. His wound was severe, but his blood was so healthy that he would recover, according to the surgeon, with great rapidity.
  • He came to New York in 1883 and purchased The World from Jay Gould. At that time The World had a circulation of less than twelve thousand copies a day, and was practically bankrupt. From this time forward Mr. Pulitzer concentrated his every faculty on building up The World. He was scoffed at, ridiculed, and abused by the most powerful editors of the old school. They were to learn, not without bitterness and wounds, that opposition was the one fuel of all others which best fed the triple flame of his courage, his tenacity, and his resourcefulness.
  • "You see," continued the sergeant, "one never knows what may be the result of a bad wound in a climate like this, and if it pleases my Father in heaven to call me home, I should like the few trifles I possess to go in the right direction."
  • "It was a wondrous combat," he declared, with all the spirit of a spectator, "for Poleon advanced bare-handed and beat him down even as the man fired into his face. It is due to the goodness and mercy of God that he was spared a single wound from this desperado--a miracle vouchsafed because of his clean heart and his righteous cause."
  • It needed but the weight of a few to accomplish his design. The ship was stopped in its flight and then, to the horror of the girl, she felt it being dragged steadily downward. Gahan, too, realized the danger and the necessity for instant action. Clinging to the rope with his left hand, he had wound a leg about it, leaving his right hand free for his long-sword which he had not sheathed. A downward cut clove the soft head of a kaldane, and another severed the taut rope beneath the panthan's feet. The girl heard a sudden renewal of the shrill whistling of her foes, and at the same time she realized that the craft was rising again. Slowly it drifted upward, out of reach of the enemy, and a moment later she saw the figure of Turan clamber over the side. For the first time in many weeks her heart was filled with the joy of thanksgiving; but her first thought was of another.
  • The pain of his wounds lent him wings; and he had no sooner got upon the level than he took to his heels and ran straight before him in the dark, without a thought for the direction of his flight.
  • We don't do any shooting from here, Tommy answered moving back to the south. "If we should wound those big brutes without shutting off their motive power, they'd chew us into rags, in about three minutes. We've got to get some place where we can run!"
  • Billy smiled grimly and reloaded his weapons, after which Lew Simpson dressed the wounds of his comrades, who returned a like favor for him.
  • Oliver and Panton were watching them from the bulwarks against which they leaned, using their small binoculars to watch the proceeding of their companions, and both low spirited and looking dejected at having to stay on deck through the weakness produced by their wounds.
  • I better brook the loss of brittle life, Than those proud titles thou hast won of me; They wound my thoughts, worse than thy sword my flesh. SHAKESPEARE
  • Job lashed the tiller and going to the lanyard at the mainmast, hauled down the black flag. Then they both set to work cleaning up the deck. The three dead men were given sea burial--slipped overboard without other ceremony than the short prayer for each which Jeremy repeated. The gunner who lay in agony in his berth had his wound bound up and was given a sip of brandy. Then the lank New Englander went below to get a meal, while Jeremy sluiced the gun decks with sea water.
  • His head was thrown back and all the muscles of his wings were jarred, and he found himself arms, jaws, wings, legs, all entangled in an unseen mesh. Suddenly he was being twisted around, wound inextricably in the netted vines, and mogoots were appearing all round him, all bearing clubs and advancing cautiously. He could tear through the tangling vines easily enough, but the mogoots were encircling him with stouter bonds and he was being dragged from his balance with his feet held high and his head circling in the dust. As he was spun around it seemed to him that dozens of the creatures were loping towards him, and before he remembered to speak the words of the Sun they were striking at him with clubs.
  • The window, though not secured on the interior, was closed--a circumstance not a little puzzling, as it afforded the only other mode of escape from the room; it looked out, too, upon a kind of courtyard, round which the old buildings stood, formerly accessible by a narrow doorway and passage lying in the oldest side of the quadrangle, but which had since been built up, so as to preclude all ingress or egress; the room was also upon the second story, and the height of the window considerable. Near the bed were found a pair of razors belonging to the murdered man, one of them upon the ground, and both of them open. The weapon which had inflicted the mortal wound was not to be found in the room, nor were any footsteps or other traces of the murderer discoverable.
  • It was such a duty to battle that led to Korol and I parting. I had suffered small wounds from sparring that - until thenhad made for delay my entrance into combat. I had devoted the lot of my being to recovery and the things therewith. Of these injuries was Korol well aware. Time taken for her was nearly none, and I had made occasion for hardly any rest to self.
  • Until about noon the trail wound around great hills of rocks, and in and out of deep gulches and rocky defiles, and over high ridges of rock; and then, just as the sun was nearing the meridian, it entered a broad mountain-enclosed valley, some six or seven miles long by about two miles wide. Near the upper end of the valley a tall pinnacle of rocks shot up into the sky, like a church steeple, at the head of what looked like an almost precipitous mass of rocks that rose many hundreds of feet above the level of the valley.
  • There was a pyrotechnic explosion from the stage as the flash pots went off. Flames licked at the columns of amplifiers along either side and in pools across the flooring, but nothing burned. A group of hooded druids wound their way slowly out from behind the backdrop dragging three heavy, wooden Y-shaped crucifixes. A half-naked man wearing little more than a loincloth was lashed to the one on the left. His wrists were bound by coarse, braided rope to the upright arms of the cross. A demon hung from the crucifix on the right, his mottled, waxy flesh almost translucent over his rail-thin frame as if he suffered from starvation. The central cross reached twenty feet into the air, dwarfing the others. As yet it was unoccupied.
  • When Despard had bound Clark he returned to look after Langhetti. He lay feebly and motionless upon the ground. Despard carefully examined his wounds. His injuries were very severe. His arms were lacerated, and his shoulder torn; blood also was issuing from a wound on the side of his neck. Despard bound these as best he could, and then sat wondering what could be done next.
  • Rachael rattled off her fears. "The doctor. He said your time was short. You lost too much blood and your wound was not healing."
  • As he stumbled down the mountainside toward the main camp, the hideous image of three charred skeletons Corba and her mother and daughter - arms entwined, arose in his mind and made him feel faint. He was dizzy, too, from the pain in his arm. He knew he could lose his left arm, or even die, if this wound was not treated. But there was no one in the camp he could trust to help him.
  • Dr. Horsley had been busy enough from the time that the fighting began in earnest. Ten men had been killed by balls that had passed through the embrasures, or by kris or lance wounds, and twenty-eight others had been more or less severely wounded. A quarter of an hour after the firing ceased, Captain Forrest himself, with the mate, rowed into the pool in one of the cutters, and landed at the end of the path close to the battery.
  • Jack! cried the Doctor, with his face wrinkling up, as he tried to look very severe. "Yes Jack. But you're not Jack: he was some common fisherman's or miner's boy, not the son of a medical man--a gentleman. There, go and dress that wound in his trousers, my dear."
  • These products have a high water content, which is why they are of value in wound debridement.
  • Riles had the wound dressed by a doctor and met the evening train, where he engaged a harvester just out from Ontario. They drove home through the darkness, the hired man so tired with three days and nights of bumping in a slat-seated colonist car that he would have fallen out of the buckboard had Riles not held him in. When the horses were stabled the new comer was shown to his bedroom, which was reached by climbing up steps nailed to the studs of the shanty where Riles and his wife lived. In the loft was a little window looking out of a gable, a straw mattress covered with two discarded horse-blankets lay in a corner, and a kitchen chair, from which the back had been broken, completed the furniture of the little room. It was, however, also used as a store-house for old clothes and for drying vegetables, and the mice scampered in great excitement at the approach of the lantern.
  • Hickathrift shouted to his wife, who had risen and dressed in his absence, and in a short time the squire was lying upon a mattress with Hickathrift eagerly searching for the injury which had laid him low; but when he found it, the wound seemed so small and trifling that he looked wondering up at Dick.
  • The tumultuous thunder of the fierce war-dance sounded louder and louder upon the night--the glare of the distant fires reddened, and then glowed forth afresh. What if Tom Carhayes had come upon the spoor of his missing sheep--and in his blind rage had followed it right into Nteya's location? Might he not as well walk straight into a den of lions? The savage Gaikas, wound up to the highest pitch of bloodthirsty excitement, would at such a time be hardly less dangerous than so many beasts of prey. Even at that very moment the cord of that one life might be snapped.
  • For a moment, he stood transfixed. He had wanted to punch Osbern and he had done so. But he had not expected anything quite so gruesome. A gesture intended to injure the lords pride had caused a wound much more grievous.
  • The day passed. Ghek, tiring of the sunlight, had deserted his rykor and crawled down a hole he had discovered close by. Tara and Turan reclined beneath the scant shade of a small tree. They watched the people coming and going through the gate. The party of horsemen did not return. A small herd of zitidars was driven into the city during the day, and once a caravan of broad-wheeled carts drawn by these huge animals wound out of the distant horizon and came down to the city. It, too, passed from their sight within the gateway. Then darkness came and Tara of Helium bid her panthan search for food and drink; but she cautioned him against attempting to enter the city. Before he left her he bent and kissed her hand as a warrior may kiss the hand of his queen.
  • "Fie, fie!" Katherina tells the widow, laughing. "Unknit that threatening, unkind brow, and dart not scornful glances from those eyes, to wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor!
  • Tears came into my eyes on hearing him speak thus. If our situation to all was intolerable in the interior, with what haste and gladness would we put on our corkjackets to work in our turn! Pickaxes sounded on the frozen icebeds. Our arms ached, the skin was torn off our hands. But what were these fatigues, what did the wounds matter? Vital air came to the lungs! We breathed! we breathed!
  • Yes, said he, looking around, "I was the fortunate boy who jumped into the water after you, and found that chain wound round the button of my coat. I have kept it and the locket ever since, but I never knew you were the original until I heard the story from your lips."
  • I here blundered out my excuses. What I said, and what I did not say, I do not now remember; but certainly, it was her turn now to blush, and her arm trembled within mine as I led her to the top of the room. In the little opportunity which our quadrille presented for conversation, I could not help remarking that, after the surprise of her first meeting with me, Miss Dashwood's manner became gradually more and more reserved, and that there was an evident struggle between her wish to appear grateful for what had occurred, with a sense of the necessity of not incurring a greater degree of intimacy. Such was my impression, at least, and such the conclusion I drew from a certain quiet tone in her manner that went further to wound my feelings and mar my happiness than any other line of conduct towards me could possibly have effected.
  • Ours is not one of the exact sciences as to prognostication, said Dr. Roland. "The wound extends from the anterior part of the thorax."
  • But you've forgotten the rope! I exclaimed, and the captain opened his coat to show me the line wound around his waist in such a fashion that one might have come close upon him without suspecting that he carried anything.
  • I made my way over to where the chief was squatting, and gazed at him long and steadily. I remember his appearance as though it were but yesterday that we met. I think I have already said he was the most repulsive-looking savage I have ever come across, even among the Australian blacks. The curious raised scars were upon this particular chief both large and numerous. This curious form of decoration, by the way, is a very painful business. The general practice is to make transverse cuts with a sharp shell, or stone knife, on the chest, thighs, and sometimes on the back and shoulders. Ashes and earth are then rubbed into each cut, and the wound is left to close. Next comes an extremely painful gathering and swelling, and a little later the earth that is inside is gradually removed--sometimes with a feather. When the wounds finally heal up, each cicatrice stands out like a raised weal, and of these extraordinary marks the blacks are inordinately proud.
  • His touch was intoxicating. I could feel warm tingles start from my shoulders and work their way down my arms. A full two seconds of silence passed before I realized he'd asked me why I'd come downstairs. "I can't sleep. I've been trying, but I'm too wound up to do anything but just lie there. I thought I'd come downstairs and talk to you instead. I mean unless it's bothering you. You know, keeping you from patrolling or something."
  • Little did he know just how right he was. Walking calmly back over to the man on the left, the priest looks at the man with a disappointed look on his face. "You my son, are absolutely lacking in any respect for the cloth I see. Well, I guess I can't hold that against you." Now the priest waived his hand once again in front of the man. Feeling himself free to move, he yells at the priest, "I'll cut your heart out and feed it to piece by piece you freak. All you goody-two-shoes preachers belong in hell." Smiling, the priest replies, "I have to agree with you there, but I must take offense to your threatening to cut my heart out." The man still in disbelief over his gun not firing, quickly fires three more times at the priest. This time the gun does fire, slamming three bullets directly into the priest's chest. Blood begins pouring out of the wounds, soaking into the priest's uniform.
  • Hullo, look at that smoke yonder; is it a bush fire, I wonder, or is it possible they have been having a big blaze at Latimer? said the doctor, pointing with his whip to the crest of a long hill up which the track wound its dusty way.
  • Clayton coughed and the Ghost turned to gaze upon him, so he spoke. "I'm n-not sure I understand how we got here. We do have an amulet and we spoke the words Gorbo-nom achewan No-nopawno agerwan and we wound up in that mountain with the golden tower. I assume that's how that girl, Brickle, how she got there, since she also had the amulet before we got it. There was an old man named Woller in our world who also spoke those words and somebody named Daniel Woller who knew the words, and his wife Kathy. The old man said that Daniel was Daniel of Woller."
  • A fortnight after the fall of Mexico, Amenche and Roger were both convalescent. Amenche's wound had, after the first day, caused but little anxiety. She had fainted from loss of blood, and from the effects of the long strain which she had undergone, from the time that she had heard that Roger was a captive in the hands of the Mexicans, and destined for sacrifice at the temple. Under the influence, then, of happiness; and of the care and attention she received; she was, in two or three days, well enough to get up and go into the adjoining room, and sit by the couch of Roger; who was prostrated by fever, the result of imprisonment, anxiety, and his wounds. For a time his life was in danger; but after the crisis had passed, he too recovered rapidly.
  • 'Nor can I,' she answered. She rose and faced him, and in the patch of moonlight in which she stood he could see that her tears at least were real. 'What you have to say to me, in effect,' she said, with an air of sudden quiet dignity, but with a quiver in her voice, 'is just this: that I am a heartless coquette, and have never cared for you; that I have wilfully lured you on to your own unhappiness. If you really think that, Paul, if it means anything more than a mere passing gust of temper, we had better say good-bye at once. I have at least an equal right to bring the same charge against you, but I should disdain to harbour such a thought about you. There are many ways in which you may be cruel to a woman, Paul, and be forgiven, but you must not wound her pride in that way. That is the cruellest stab of all. The blade is poisoned, dear, and the wound will rankle for a lifetime.'
  • But time heals all wounds, and when at length Roger asked her a certain question, her sorrow had sufficiently abated to admit of her saying "Yes" by way of answer.
  • The gentleman email hotmail email gmail com service service stanched his wound in terrible silence.
  • An Angel appeared at his side to give him a hand. Together, they walked towards the hallway. They all had lieutenants and underlings around to assist them. They all seemed to need it. They looked like they had gone through blenders. Baals wings were shredded, bits of bone peeking out from the spines. Anubis was nearly furless again, his hands both swollen and unusable. Gabriel looked as if he might have actually aged and his body refused to allow him to stand upright. Fenrir had been stuck in wolf form and the wolf kept licking at different wounds and then glaring at me. I guess I was transferring injuries onto them to keep myself alive during the duel with Chiron, right until I stabbed myself like an idiot. My mother believes the only reason it didnt kill me is because Im a Strachan and the sword doesnt like taking the blood of its own kind.
  • "Enter the city, clasp your wives, your friends!—tell them your feats, whilst they with joyful tears wash the congealment from your wounds, and kiss the honoured gashes to wholeness!"
  • "Ah! I see you recognise me. No, I am not ashamed of my portrait. I am proud of the wounds that I have received in the war with tyranny, so you need not fear to confess your recognition."
  • A warm trickle on his left hand, which had some dim associations of physical pain, bade him look at it; there was a yellow splinter of tooth sticking there. He warmed to think he had struck home, and then chilled as he asked: 'Wasn't the poor devil at his proper trade?' He pulled out the jagged splinter, and bound the wound with his handkerchief.
  • At daylight the boats moved off on their return; and soon after the sun's bright orb had sunk into the same vast dead level from which it rose, we reached the entrance. Being anxious that the surgeon should see Mr. Gore's hand, I sent the gig on with him to the ship; next morning, as we crossed the bar, he rejoined us, and I was very happy to find the ablution in brandy had been of great service to his wound.
  • He stepped between his cousins and laid his hand on the foot of his uncle. It brought a snarl from the old man, a snarl that made Bull straighten and step back, but he came again and put aside the shaking hand of Uncle Bill. His cousins stood at one side, literally quaking. It was the first time that they had actually seen their father defied. They saw the huge hand of Bull settle around the leg of their father, well below the wound and then the grip closed to avoid the danger of opening the wound when the boot was worked off. After this he pulled the tight riding boot slowly from the swollen foot.
  • Below him, to the right, was a valley, the drop now being about one hundred and fifty feet, and Wilbur could see at the edge of the creek, pitched among some willows, a little tent, the white contrasting strongly with the green of the willows. The road wound round high above the valley in order to keep the grade. Twice Wilbur halted Kit to try to stop the foremost of the herd behind him from pressing on too close, but the third time Kit would not halt. She was stepping as though on springs, with every muscle and sinew tense, and the distance between the steers before and the steers behind was gradually lessening.
  • Meanwhile Zack James and Mitch' Jenkins had drawn stout cords as tightly as possible round the leg above and below the wound, with a view to check the circulation of poisoned blood. This done, large portions of the raw quivering flesh of a turkey just killed were pressed hard, one after another, upon the wound itself, these supposedly acting as an absorbent.
  • XXI. "The father bent him o'er the dead, The wounds were all before; Again his brow, in sorrow clad, The garb of gladness wore.
  • The narrow lane wound on between crumbling stone walls, and Paul could see picked out in the headlights, the shadowy outlines of gorse and small, stunted oaks in the fields to either side. Finally the road levelled and opened out at a three-way intersection of lanes, seven or eight stone houses and assorted barns and sheds made up a generously spaced hamlet around the junction.
  • The passage we were now in was inclined downward. It wound in a general direction at right angles to the one which led to the cauldron of gold. In places it became so low that we were obliged to creep on hands and knees. This condition finally prevailed, so that I began to believe we were wedging ourselves into a crack. If this were true, then the case would be worse than hopeless--it would be most horrible. The death, one by one, of all the Links, in such a place as this, would be appalling to the last degree.
  • The gallant ducked his slower opponent. With a brief dash of footwork, he moved behind the demon to land a solid thrust into its lower back. Dark pink ooze squeezed forth from the wound.
  • "We have power in ourselves to do itbut it is a power that we have no power to use!" complains the mercer. "For if he show us his wounds and tell us his deeds, we are to put our tongues into those wounds and speak for them; so if he tells us his noble deeds, we must also tell him our noble acceptance of them!"
  • The bitterness of lovers' quarrels is in ratio with their passion for each other. These two loved with complete abandon, consequently each could wound the other maddeningly.
  • He came out to the roadside and waited for us, waving his hat in the air, he was so excited; then, when we had come up, took us back from the road through a sort of lane, which pretty soon turned south and wound off through the woods.
  • The lute rested precisely where he had left it. Its body was shaped like a huge pear cut in half lengthwise, with the back a glistening melon of curved cedar staves and the face a polished cherry. The neck was broad, and the head, where the strings were wound to their pegs, angled sharply back. He admired it for a moment, already eager for the touch of its dark frets. During the voyage it had been wrapped in heavy cloth, sealed in oilskins, and stored deep in his cabin chest. Not till landfall at Zanzibar had he dared expose it to the sea air.
  • A group of women staggered in bearing a wounded man wrapped in a blue cloak. Roland stepped aside as the women laid their burden gently before the bishop. The cloak fell away, and Roland saw that a sword had cleft the man's shoulder. His arm hung by a thread. The women tried to staunch the flow of blood by pressing cloths against the wound.
  • Walter's first thought on awakening was for his chum. Charley was tossing restlessly on his blanket, his face and hands flushed and hot with fever. All of Walter's attempts to rouse him met only with unintelligible words and phrases. The exertion of the previous day in his weak state, the opening of his wound afresh, and the unhealthy river water he had drank, had all combined to bring him to a dangerous condition.
  • The latter was about as furious as a wild Indian could be, without exploding. Lone Wolf had his own theory of the thing, and he inquired particularly as to the manner in which the fatal wounds seemed to have been inflicted. When they were described, all doubt was removed from the mind of the chieftain.
  • When all was over, I could see how much Artemis was weakened. I dressed the wound and took her arm to bring her away, when Van Helsing spoke without turning round, the woman seems to have eyes in the back of her head, 'The brave lover, I think, deserve another kiss, which she shall have presently.’ and as she had now finished her operation, she adjusted the pillow to the patient's head. As she did so the narrow black velvet band which he seems always to wear round his throat, buckled with an old diamond buckle which his lover had given him, was dragged a little up, and showed a red mark on his throat.
  • Sternly the men conveyed their fallen chief to his boat, and rowed him to the mainland, and many a week passed by ere he recovered from the effects of the blow that felled him. His conqueror returned to have his wounds dressed by the bride for whom he had fought so long and so valiantly on that bright summer morning.
  • Suppurateatment proved to be particularly useful in treating septic wounds and the more serious kinds of suppurating wounds.
  • For example, former U.S. Army Captain Granville Fortescue followed the developments of the Gallipoli Campaign from an embedded perspective within the ranks of the Turkish defenders; and his report was passed through Turkish censors before being printed in London and New York. However, this observer's role was abandoned when the U.S. entered the war, as Fortescue immediately re-enlisted, sustaining wounds at Forest of Argonne in the Meuse-Argonne Offensive, September 1918.
  • Serenitys blood hung thick on the night air; the wound on her wrist fresh enough to make her whereabouts traceable. As soon as Madeline gave him the letter, with Serenitys blood dribbled across the page, he had become focused on the scent.
  • The soldiers sprang for him, and found him sitting at the wail of the stable near the colt, which had fallen from wounds and was just breathing out his last breath. At the first glance it did not seem that the lad would last long, but he held the standard with both hands to his breast.
  • But there was comfort in numbers, and what no one of them could perhaps have done singly they finally accomplished by taking turns, keeping close together all the while as the ghostly cavalcade wound its way through the woods.
  • The men were only in sight a few minutes, then some projecting rocks hid them from view. The man in charge of the sheep-station was questioned, and he told them it would take the men on the mountain a good two hours to get down to the house, as the trail wound around considerably to avoid several dangerous cliffs.
  • Frobisher, very much alive, but still weak from his wounds, arrived in due time at Asan, closely guarded by a file of soldiery, and was carried direct to the fort at the mouth of the river.
  • Half an hour went by, and Dave and his parent remained under the cliff. Without a fire it was extremely cold, and they had to stamp around to keep warm. At times Mr. Porter felt rather faint from his wounds, but he kept this from Dave as much as possible. Yet presently the boy noticed it.
  • The shutters lay partly open, as the valet had left them some hours before, on making the astounding discovery, which the partially admitted light revealed. The corpse lay in the silk-embroidered dressing gown, and other habiliments, which Sir Wynston had worn, while taking his ease in his chamber, on the preceding night. The coverlet was partially dragged over it. The mouth was gaping, and filled with clotted blood; a wide gash was also visible in the neck, under the ear; and there was a thickening pool of blood at the bedside, and quantities of blood, doubtless from other wounds, had saturated the bedclothes under the body. There lay Sir Wynston, stiffened in the attitude in which the struggle of death had left him, with his stern, stony face, and dim, terrible gaze turned up.
  • The bourgeois refused. They offered the King of France, as a last concession, a peaceful entrance, lances erect, and the royal banner alone unfurled. The King laid siege to the town, a siege which lasted three months, during which, says the chronicler, the bourgeois of Avignon returned the French soldiers arrow for arrow, wound for wound, death for death.
  • "Kind gentlemen, lets go see poor Cassios wound dressed," Iago says to Signior Lodovico and Gratiano. He pulls Bianca along: "Come, mistress, you must tell us another tale!
  • They had a tower of strength, though, in Ngati, who, in spite of the wounds he had received, seemed as vigorous as ever; and though Don twice lost his footing, he clung tightly to the spear, and soon fought his way back to a perpendicular position.
  • In the chasm, burnt bodies and crushed, bloody cadavers lay in jumbled piles. Golden scales glittered amongst them, testifying to the dragon's injuries. Mirra jumped down and hurried over to those who still twitched and moaned, eking out her healing amongst so many. The triumphant soldiers stood about in dazed relief, some nursing wounds or helping friends to bind theirs. Injured dark creatures crawled towards the safety of the shadows, black ichor oozing from their skins. Some merely flapped and kicked, unable to drag themselves along, but Mirra avoided them.
  • "Don't worry about that," he replied, handing her axe back to her, "if we do run into another fight, just get out of the way and let us take care of it. Your wound is better though, I trust?"
  • His benevolent hostess immediately called a little Indian attendant, in order to despatch him for the doctor; but her guest shook his head and motioned with his uplifted hand for her to desist. She reseated herself, more at a loss than ever to account for his present appearance and conduct. She had supposed that he was suffering from the pain of his wounds, but she now saw that of these he was entirely regardless. She became aware that a more deeply seated pain afflicted him. Again he turned his face toward the roof of the hut, his hands crossed upon his breast, and his bosom racked with unutterable misery.
  • But a stream wound out of the caon, to mingle its clear waters with the grand Colorado River a mile away, and massive trees grew near at hand, sheltering a cabin that stood upon the sloping hill at the base of a cliff that arose thousands of feet above it.
  • In the night, Colonel Travis sent the old pirate on an express to Colonel Fanning, who, with a small military force, was at Goliad, to entreat him to come to his aid. Goliad was about four days' march from Bexar. The next morning the Mexicans renewed their fire from a battery about three hundred and fifty yards from the fort. A three-ounce ball struck the juggler on the breast, inflicting a painful but not a dangerous wound.
  • Oberon points to the fresh path the men have made moving clumsily through the brush. "Thou seest these lovers seek a place to fight!" wounds could end the mortalslives, brief as they are. "Hie therefore, Robin!—overcast the night: the starry welkin cover thou anon with drooping fog as black as Acheron, and lead those testy rivals so astray as one comes not within anothers way!
  • For half an hour the fight continued. Many of the blacks had fallen, but they continued the assault as vigorously as before, and all the defenders had received more or less serious wounds from the spears.
  • The path narrowed, Sket went ahead, reaching back for Tikas hands. He pulled her along with Motass keeping close behind her. It seemed they climbed endlessly and the storm shrieked its rage at their invasion of the mountains, doing its best to dislodge them. As a gust of air wound round her legs, feeling almost like hands grabbing her ankles, Tika knew this was Rhakis doing. She would ask Gan, but she was suddenly sure the Guardian was an adept at weather Power. While he might not yet know who they were, she was positive he had set wards even this far from the Realm of Ice, which uninvited visitors would trigger into action as they passed.
  • And there was more blood on the floor than ever came from the little wound George received, according to the way you describe it, Tommy went on.
  • Elam in a few words described his adventures, running his eye over the goods the sutler had to sell, and wound up by telling of the furs he had lost.
  • Time glided away as fast in the days of James the First as it does in the reign of our gentle Queen; and a year had gone by in the quiet peaceful vale, where, to a man, all who had been in the great trouble had more or less quickly recovered from their wounds.
  • But up in one of the boxes not far from the starting point were three young men who were utterly overcome with amazement and consternation. One of them had a face that was drawn and pale, as if he had received a mortal wound.
  • "Fine," Anubis opened his mouth and bit into his wrist. He held it over the pot and let the blood fall from it. When hed let out about an ounce of it, I put my hand over the wound and watched it close. It hurt a bit, but not as much as I had thought it would.
  • Not ten feet away was the grizzly coming down on them like a locomotive. His mouth was open, his eyes blazing, and with the blood flowing from his wounds he made a hideous picture as he rushed forward. They had forgotten to reckon with the wonderful tenacity of life that makes a grizzly bear the hardest thing in the world to kill. Six bullets were embedded in his carcass and his life was ebbing. But his fiendish ferocity was unimpaired, and he had gathered himself together for one last onslaught.
  • For there, just as they had been carried in, ready for future disposal, lay side by side, in the bottom of the roomy iron closet, the bodies of the two servants, each with a bullet wound in the head, such an one as would produce almost instant death.
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