|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 58
The youth went along with slipping uncertain feet. He kept
watchful eyes rearward. A scowl of mortification and rage was
upon his face. He had thought of a fine revenge upon the officer
who had referred to him and his fellows as mule drivers.
But he saw that it could not come to pass. His dreams had
collapsed when the mule drivers, dwindling rapidly, had wavered
and hesitated on the little clearing, and then had recoiled.
And now the retreat of the mule drivers was a march of shame to him.
A dagger-pointed gaze from without his blackened face was held
toward the enemy, but his greater hatred was riveted upon the man,
who, not knowing him, had called him a mule driver.
When he knew that he and his comrades had failed to do anything
in successful ways that might bring the little pangs of a kind
of remorse upon the officer, the youth allowed the rage of the
baffled to possess him. This cold officer upon a monument,
who dropped epithets unconcernedly down, would be finer as a dead man,
he thought. So grievous did he think it that he could never possess
the secret right to taunt truly in answer.
He had pictured red letters of curious revenge. "We ARE mule
drivers, are we?" And now he was compelled to throw them away.
He presently wrapped his heart in the cloak of his pride and kept
the flag erect. He harangued his fellows, pushing against their
chests with his free hand. To those he knew well he made frantic
appeals, beseeching them by name. Between him and the lieutenant,
scolding and near to losing his mind with rage, there was felt a
subtle fellowship and equality. They supported each other in all
manner of hoarse, howling protests.
But the regiment was a machine run down. The two men babbled at
a forceless thing. The soldiers who had heart to go slowly were
continually shaken in their resolves by a knowledge that comrades
were slipping with speed back to the lines. It was difficult
to think of reputation when others were thinking of skins.
Wounded men were left crying on this black journey.
The smoke fringes and flames blustered always. The youth,
peering once through a sudden rift in a cloud, saw a brown
mass of troops, interwoven and magnified until they appeared
to be thousands. A fierce-hued flag flashed before his vision.
Immediately, as if the uplifting of the smoke had been prearranged,
the discovered troops burst into a rasping yell, and a hundred
flames jetted toward the retreating band. A rolling gray
cloud again interposed as the regiment doggedly replied.
The youth had to depend again upon his misused ears, which were
trembling and buzzing from the melee of musketry and yells.
The way seemed eternal. In the clouded haze men became
panic-stricken with the thought that the regiment had lost
its path, and was proceeding in a perilous direction.
Once the men who headed the wild procession turned and came pushing
back against their comrades, screaming that they were being fired upon
from points which they had considered to be toward their own lines.
At this cry a hysterical fear and dismay beset the troops.
A soldier, who heretofore had been ambitious to make the
regiment into a wise little band that would proceed calmly
amid the huge-appearing difficulties, suddenly sank down and
buried his face in his arms with an air of bowing to a doom.
From another a shrill lamentation rang out filled with profane
allusions to a general. Men ran hither and thither, seeking with
their eyes roads of escape. With serene regularity, as if
controlled by a schedule, bullets buffed into men.
The youth walked stolidly into the midst of the mob, and with his
flag in his hands took a stand as if he expected an attempt to
push him to the ground. He unconsciously assumed the attitude
of the color bearer in the fight of the preceding day. He passed
over his brow a hand that trembled. His breath did not come
freely. He was choking during this small wait for the crisis.
His friend came to him. "Well, Henry, I guess this is good-by-John."
"Oh, shut up, you damned fool!" replied the youth, and he would not
look at the other.
The officers labored like politicians to beat the mass into a
proper circle to face the menaces. The ground was uneven and torn.
The men curled into depressions and fitted themselves snugly
behind whatever would frustrate a bullet. The youth noted
with vague surprise that the lieutenant was standing mutely with
his legs far apart and his sword held in the manner of a cane.
The youth wondered what had happened to his vocal organs that he
no more cursed.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|