“Tomato ketchup1 with duck's eggs. Draw up a chair,” said Boylan. He appeared just now to see the steward's blouse.
“Samarc takes the field to-day. It's for him,” Peter explained.... “He's going out to kill himself. Only one reservation—that he kill no one else.”
Boylan seemed staring at Peter's knees.
“You're letting the ketchup burn,” Peter said mildly.
“I suppose that's what he really means to do,” Big Belt observed, after a moment. “And what are we to do about it?”
“I thought I would stand by a little—not so as to be a nuisance, you know—”
“Naturally not. Of course.”
They ate in silence—a thousand things to say.
“I won't be very far from the staff,” said Peter, hurrying back to the hospital. “Poor old Samarc has two wounds, you know—”
It wasn't a day to explain things—not a day to talk. Men afield can never tell what they are doing; some devilish irony2 is in the air. They laugh; they listen; they hope—only a jest comes. The most thrilling and stupendous situations bring forth3 but a curse or a roar. Human throats are inarticulate, afield; the reality that voices heroic utterance4 and makes it memorable5 is not at work in man-fabric; splendid faces and brave actions—but the words are the revealers of emptiness. For the animal is awake and upstanding; the spirit that quickens reality is apart.
The battlefield opened to Mowbray's eyes that day with abnormal clearness, as if he had brought rest and reflection to a problem that long had harried6 him, He felt singularly light and full of ease—as one does sometimes in the first hours of the day after a sleepless7 night. The day was wild with west wind, a touch of south still clinging. The east arrayed itself again and again in all the delicate blends of pink and gray, watery8 yellow, rose, and azure9; a different arrangement at each glance, as if separate groups of maidens10 followed each around a Roman bath.
Samarc was given a seat in an ammunition11 wagon12, with orders to join his battery. Peter found his horse, already saddled by Boylan, and overtook the wagon train as it left the town. In a halt for the way to clear, Kohlvihr and his staff passed, Dabnitz and Boylan riding together. The General sat soft and lumpy in the saddle, his eyes small and feverish13, his face hotly red. The staff passed on, all except Boylan believing that the correspondent had fallen in behind. Riding with the wagons14, Peter frequently turned to the terrifying bandage above the steward's blouse. When the light was right, he caught a glint of the eyes beneath.
The way became steep for the wagons as they neared the emplacements. Peter swung off and led his pony15. Infantry16 was already engaged down in the hollows; the reek17 of powder began to cut the air at intervals18, but the strong wind as often cleansed19 it away, and the scent20 of woods came up startlingly, with the warmth of the sun upon the ground—the sweet healing breath of drying cedar21 boughs22.
He was sorry now he had roughed it with the young doctor; that sort of thing was very far from him. He had no memory of another episode like it. On occasion, dropping into the queerest abstractions, he fancied her near.... It had been like a soldier leaving his lady for the battle—the precious few minutes less than an hour ago. She had promised to be with him. There had been no talk nor thought of the terrifying day she faced in the hospital; everything had to do with his taking the field. She would follow him with her thoughts. Perhaps he would find his soul out there, she suggested, as he had never found it before. Peter wondered now just what she meant by that. It was not his way to fall back upon any such abstraction.
He reflected how her presence always changed him, gave him strength of a different sort, and directness of aim.... It was true that she seemed near—on the other side from Samarc—a part of the mountain fragrance23 that would not be overpowered in the gun-reek. He felt if he could turn quickly enough he would catch the gleam of her colors. This was her country. She was of the north and the cold lands; she belonged to the purity of the cedars24.
He played with the thought that she was near; and from the thought, because it was good, a glimpse of the future came to him—the peace to come, when men would dwell again with their loves, and the dream of superb affiliation25 would come true. All this madness of men would pass, as the rising powder-reek would pass from these Galician hills, and leave them their silence and their natural fragrance.
The wagons had gone on. Samarc's battery might have been rubbed out for all their ability to find it. All faces strange—gunners, range-finders, and the cartridge26 hands. Peter felt a horror in his breast for the immediate27 presence of the guns—as if he had reached the end of toleration in the one day with them. Samarc felt this hate, too, his ruling passion.... Any moment one of the rapid-firers might drum into action. Their sense was one—that something would be uncoupled in their minds. They turned, Peter laughing at his desire to run—as they found another group of machines emplaced in a rocky shelter a little higher than the spot where the shrapnel had struck three days before.
No one called to them as they turned back. A small belated wagon train rumbled28 by, but no one hailed them from the seats. They were free, alone. Peter inhaled29 the scent of the forest, sharp again from the acrid30 taint31 of the cool, hazy32 air. He loved the sweet mountain wind as never before—almost as if he were to leave it all. There was little need of exchange of words. Each understood mainly the thoughts of the other. Big guns thundered at each other from the remoter hills. Again they saw an infantry movement start forth below—the endless strings33 of infantry along the broad lower slopes. They stopped to watch them.
Creatures of the hollows, their business to rise and be swept back—marching forth now—Kohlvihr's command. Peter's eyes filled and his throat stopped at the spectacle of the gray lines. Surely something was the matter with him, he thought. Was it pathological—loss of sleep, or fatigue34? Or was it something that Spenski and Abel, the field and hospital; more than all was it something that Berthe Wyndham had given him? In any event, it seemed as if those infantry lines marching out now to the burning front were being torn from his own breast, every moujik precious. He wanted to be with them, not with the heinous35 guns. He wished he could spare them, stop the continual sacrifice. Miles of gray lines moving out now. ...His companion's tugging36 hand.
It dawned upon Peter before many sounds that Samarc wanted to go alone. He pointed37 the trail back around the hills toward Judenbach, where it would meet the road Kohlvihr had taken, suggesting that Peter join the staff. He, Samarc, would continue the search for his battery. As a rule Mowbray was the last to continue in the presence of a man who wanted him to go; and yet, he knew that Samarc hated the field pieces as much as he, and that he did not mean to live through the day. He hesitated. The final urging was pitiful—a sort of tumult38 from under the cloths.
“Nothing doing, Samarc,” he said suddenly. “You and I for it—at least a while yet. I say—do the hard thing. The little man would have it so. We'll go down closer to the infantry stuff and forget ourselves.”
...Yes, Samarc would do the hard thing. There was gratitude39 for which Peter had no receptivity—gratitude for the friendship, the night's watching. His hand was taken and carried to the other's breast, as only a Russian could do—and down they went together.
The infantry was their magnet as they made the down grade—miles of gray lines. The lower land was trampled40 and dusty; the breeze lost itself in the hollows. Just as an orchardist41, discovering a certain parasite42 on his trees, thinks of a specific poison, so they knew that this great “forward” of the Russian foot-soldiers would start the Austrian machine and rapid-fire batteries.
They were moving now in front of a long line of new Russian works which had appeared deserted43. Boylan would have known better; Samarc should have known. Peter had taken for granted that these had been emptied by the huge advances already in movement. They were in the path of Kohlvihr's reserves, it appeared, in the center of the line, when the signal “forward” was sounded. The works suddenly blackened with men. It was too much for the pony. Peter found a bridle44 with a broken throat latch45 in his hand, as he watched the little beast tear down the front, and heard the roar of laughter from the oncoming line.
The new front seemed endless in the rolling land. They were instantly enveloped46. Out of the throng47 appeared one face that Peter had bowed to once or twice before—a captain, now working his way toward them. He glanced at the civilian48 insignia on Peter's sleeve, and said, with a smile:
“You've tricked us well this time, Mr. Mowbray. I hope you get back as cheerfully. You'll have to go forward now—at least, until we stretch out in skirmish. We're rather thick just here. Stay with my command—”
“We thought we were back of you,” Peter said. “I assure you I didn't plan this, but it's very kind of you.”
The Captain glanced at Samarc and turned to the American as they urged on.
“Hurt badly?”
“Just his face.”
“Stay by—some of the soldiers might be rough—”
They were carried forward in the resistless interference of great numbers.
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收听单词发音
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1
ketchup
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| n.蕃茄酱，蕃茄沙司 | |
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irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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memorable
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| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
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harried
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| v.使苦恼( harry的过去式和过去分词 )；不断烦扰；一再袭击；侵扰 | |
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7
sleepless
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| adj.不睡眠的，睡不著的，不休息的 | |
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8
watery
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| adj.有水的，水汪汪的；湿的，湿润的 | |
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azure
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| adj.天蓝色的，蔚蓝色的 | |
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10
maidens
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| 处女( maiden的名词复数 )； 少女； 未婚女子； （板球运动）未得分的一轮投球 | |
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11
ammunition
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| n.军火，弹药 | |
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wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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wagons
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| n.四轮的运货马车( wagon的名词复数 )；铁路货车；小手推车 | |
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15
pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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infantry
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| n.[总称]步兵(部队) | |
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reek
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| v.发出臭气；n.恶臭 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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cleansed
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| 弄干净，清洗( cleanse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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cedar
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| n.雪松，香柏(木) | |
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boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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cedars
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| 雪松，西洋杉( cedar的名词复数 ) | |
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affiliation
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| n.联系，联合 | |
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cartridge
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| n.弹壳，弹药筒；(装磁带等的)盒子 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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rumbled
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| 发出隆隆声，发出辘辘声( rumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 轰鸣着缓慢行进； 发现…的真相； 看穿（阴谋） | |
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inhaled
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| v.吸入( inhale的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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acrid
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| adj.辛辣的，尖刻的，刻薄的 | |
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taint
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| n.污点；感染；腐坏；v.使感染；污染 | |
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hazy
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| adj.有薄雾的，朦胧的；不肯定的，模糊的 | |
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strings
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| n.弦 | |
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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heinous
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| adj.可憎的，十恶不赦的 | |
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tugging
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| n.牵引感v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的现在分词 ) | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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40
trampled
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| 踩( trample的过去式和过去分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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41
orchardist
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| 果树栽培者，果园主； 果农 | |
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42
parasite
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| n.寄生虫；寄生菌；食客 | |
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43
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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44
bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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45
latch
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| n.门闩，窗闩；弹簧锁 | |
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46
enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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47
throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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48
civilian
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| adj.平民的，民用的，民众的 | |
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