As the water settled, I could see him lying huddled together on the clean, bright sand in the shadow of the vessel's sides. A fish or two whipped past his body. Sometimes, by the quivering of the water, he appeared to move a little, as if he were trying to rise.But he was dead enough, for all that, being both shot and drowned, and was food for fish in the very place where he had designed my slaughter.