noon
In the outer , open tent , where the conferences are held , three men are sitting at a corner of the big table , still discussing their scores , their rifles , the squeeze , the kick , the serious mistake it is to cant the gun . And here is a fact for you . Captain Kirby declares that the rifles do not kick , and in his own case he is probably right . But I got today a very sharp recoil each time I fired , so that by noon my arm was lame to the elbow , and my shoulder sore . I expected much difficulty in the afternoon , and the first shot hurt consumedly ; but whether or not I learned to hold the rifle better , or whether the gradual toning up of my muscles is accustoming me to what comes , the rest of the kicks seemed to act as a sort of massage , so that I forgot about them , and tonight I am entirely free of lameness . Outside , at the head of the company street , the fire is gradually dying down . Wood is always provided for it , a hole is dug , the men feed it as long as they please , and in the morning the police squad , I suppose , smooth the ground .