El Sordo was making his fight on a hilltop. He did not like this hill and when he saw it he thought it had the shape of a chancre. But he had had no choice except this hill and he had picked it as far away as he could see it and galloped1 for it, the automatic rifle heavy on his back, the horse laboring2, barrel heaving between his thighs4, the sack of grenades swinging against one side, the sack of automatic rifle pans banging against the other, and Joaqu璯 and Ignacio halting and firing, halting and firing to give him time to get the gun in place.
There had still been snow then, the snow that had ruined them, and when his horse was hit so that he wheezed5 in a slow, jerking, climbing stagger up the last part of the crest6, splattering the snow with a bright, pulsing jet, Sordo had hauled him along by the bridle7, the reins8 over his shoulder as he climbed. He climbed as hard as he could with the bullets spatting9 on the rocks, with the two sacks heavy on his shoulders, and then, holding the horse by the mane, had shot him quickly, expertly, and tenderly just where he had needed him, so that the horse pitched, head forward down to plug a gap between two rocks. He had gotten the gun to firing over the horse's back and he fired two pans, the gun clattering10, the empty shells pitching into the snow, the smell of burnt hair from the burnt hide where the hot muzzle11 rested, him firing at what came up to the hill, forcing them to scatter12 for cover, while all the time there was a chill in his back from not knowing what was behind him. Once the last of the five men had reached the hilltop the chill went out of his back and he had saved the pans he had left until he would need them.
There were two more horses dead along the slope and three more were dead here on the hilltop. He had only succeeded in stealing three horses last night and one had bolted when they tried to mount him bareback in the corral at the camp when the first shooting had started.
Of the five men who had reached the hilltop three were wounded. Sordo was wounded in the calf13 of his leg and in two places in his left arm. He was very thirsty, his wounds had stiffened14, and one of the wounds in his left arm was very painful. He also had a bad headache and as he lay waiting for the planes to come he thought of a joke in Spanish. It was, "_Hay que tomar la muerte como si fuera aspirina_," which means, "You will have to take death as an aspirin15." But he did not make the joke aloud. He grinned somewhere inside the pain in his head and inside the nausea16 that came whenever he moved his arm and looked around at what there was left of his band.
The five men were spread out like the points of a five-pointed17 star. They had dug with their knees and hands and made mounds18 in front of their heads and shoulders with the dirt and piles of stones. Using this cover, they were linking the individual mounds up with stones and dirt. Joaqu璯, who was eighteen years old, had a steel helmet that he dug with and he passed dirt in it.
He had gotten this helmet at the blowing up of the train. It had a bullet hole through it and every one had always joked at him for keeping it. But he had hammered the jagged edges of the bullet hole smooth and driven a wooden plug into it and then cut the plug off and smoothed it even with the metal inside the helmet.
When the shooting started he had clapped this helmet on his head so hard it banged his head as though he had been hit with a casserole and, in the last lung-aching, leg-dead, mouth-dry, bulletspatting, bullet-cracking, bullet-singing run up the final slope of the hill after his horse was killed, the helmet had seemed to weigh a great amount and to ring his bursting forehead with an iron band. But he had kept it. Now he dug with it in a steady, almost machinelike desperation. He had not yet been hit.
"It serves for something finally," Sordo said to him in his deep, throaty voice.
"_Resistir y fortificar es vencer_," Joaqu璯 said, his mouth stiff with the dryness of fear which surpassed the normal thirst of battle. It was one of the slogans of the Communist party and it meant, "Hold out and fortify19, and you will win."
Sordo looked away and down the slope at where a cavalryman20 was sniping from behind a boulder21. He was very fond of this boy and he was in no mood for slogans.
"What did you say?"
One of the men turned from the building that he was doing. This man was lying flat on his face, reaching carefully up with his hands to put a rock in place while keeping his chin flat against the ground.
Joaqu璯 repeated the slogan in his dried-up boy's voice without checking his digging for a moment.
"What was the last word?" the man with his chin on the ground asked.
"_Vencer_," the boy said. "Win."
"_Mierda_," the man with his chin on the ground said.
"There is another that applies to here," Joaqu璯 said, bringing them out as though they were talismans22, "Pasionaria says it is better to die on your feet than to live on your knees."
"_Mierda_ again," the man said and another man said, over his shoulder, "We're on our bellies23, not our knees."
"Thou. Communist. Do you know your Pasionaria has a son thy age in Russia since the start of the movement?"
"It's a lie," Joaqu璯 said.
"_Qu?va_, it's a lie," the other said. "The dynamiter24 with the rare name told me. He was of thy party, too. Why should he lie?"
"It's a lie," Joaqu璯 said. "She would not do such a thing as keep a son hidden in Russia out of the war."
"I wish I were in Russia," another of Sordo's men said. "Will not thy Pasionaria send me now from here to Russia, Communist?"
"If thou believest so much in thy Pasionaria, get her to get us off this hill," one of the men who had a bandaged thigh3 said.
"The fascists25 will do that," the man with his chin in the dirt said.
"Do not speak thus," Joaqu璯 said to him.
"Wipe the pap of your mother's breasts off thy lips and give me a hatful of that dirt," the man with his chin on the ground said. "No one of us will see the sun go down this night."
El Sordo was thinking: It is shaped like a chancre. Or the breast of a young girl with no nipple. Or the top cone26 of a volcano. You have never seen a volcano, he thought. Nor will you ever see one. And this hill is like a chancre. Let the volcanos alone. It's late now for the volcanos.
He looked very carefully around the withers27 of the dead horse and there was a quick hammering of firing from behind a boulder well down the slope and he heard the bullets from the submachine gun thud into the horse. He crawled along behind the horse and looked out of the angle between the horse's hindquarters and the rock. There were three bodies on the slope just below him where they had fallen when the fascists had rushed the crest under cover of the automatic rifle and submachine gunfire and he and the others had broken down the attack by throwing and rolling down hand grenades. There were other bodies that he could not see on the other sides of the hill crest. There was no dead ground by which attackers could approach the summit and Sordo knew that as long as his ammunition28 and grenades held out and he had as many as four men they could not get him out of there unless they brought up a trench29 mortar30. He did not know whether they had sent to La Granja for a trench mortar. Perhaps they had not, because surely, soon, the planes would come. It had been four hours since the observation plane had flown over them.
This hill is truly like a chancre, Sordo thought, and we are the very pus of it. But we killed many when they made that stupidness. How could they think that they would take us thus? They have such modern armament that they lose all their sense with overconfidence. He had killed the young officer who had led the assault with a grenade that had gone bouncing and rolling down the slope as they came up it, running, bent31 half over. In the yellow flash and gray roar of smoke he had seen the officer dive forward to where he lay now like a heavy, broken bundle of old clothing marking the farthest point that the assault had reached. Sordo looked at this body and then, down the hill, at the others.
They are brave but stupid people, he thought. But they have sense enough now not to attack us again until the planes come. Unless, of course, they have a mortar coming. It would be easy with a mortar. The mortar was the normal thing and he knew that they would die as soon as a mortar came up, but when he thought of the planes coming up he felt as naked on that hilltop as though all of his clothing and even his skin had been removed. There is no nakeder thing than I feel, he thought. A flayed32 rabbit is as well covered as a bear in comparison. But why should they bring planes? They could get us out of here with a trench mortar easily. They are proud of their planes, though, and they will probably bring them. Just as they were so proud of their automatic weapons that they made that stupidness. But undoubtedly33 they must have sent for a mortar too.
One of the men fired. Then jerked the bolt and fired again, quickly.
"Save thy cartridges35," Sordo said.
"One of the sons of the great whore tried to reach that boulder," the man pointed.
"Did you hit him?" Sordo asked, turning his head with difficulty.
"Nay," the man said. "The fornicator ducked back."
"Who is a whore of whores is Pilar," the man with his chin in the dirt said. "That whore knows we are dying here."
"She could do no good," Sordo said. The man had spoken on the side of his good ear and he had heard him without turning his head. "What could she do?"
"Take these sluts from the rear."
"_Qu?va_," Sordo said. "They are spread around a hillside. How would she come on them? There are a hundred and fifty of them. Maybe more now."
"But if we hold out until dark," Joaqu璯 said.
"And if Christmas comes on Easter," the man with his chin on the ground said.
"And if thy aunt had _cojones_ she would be thy uncle," another said to him. "Send for thy Pasionaria. She alone can help us."
"I do not believe that about the son," Joaqu璯 said. "Or if he is there he is training to be an aviator37 or something of that sort."
"He is hidden there for safety," the man told him.
"He is studying dialectics. Thy Pasionaria has been there. So have Lister and Modesto and others. The one with the rare name told me."
"That they should go to study and return to aid us," Joaqu璯 said.
"That they should aid us now," another man said. "That all the cruts of Russian sucking swindlers should aid us now." He fired and said, "_Me cago en tal_; I missed him again."
"Save thy cartridges and do not talk so much or thou wilt38 be very thirsty," Sordo said. "There is no water on this hill."
"Take this," the man said and rolling on his side he pulled a wineskin that he wore slung39 from his shoulder over his head and handed it to Sordo. "Wash thy mouth out, old one. Thou must have much thirst with thy wounds."
"Let all take it," Sordo said.
"Then I will have some first," the owner said and squirted a long stream into his mouth before he handed the leather bottle around.
"Sordo, when thinkest thou the planes will come?" the man with his chin in the dirt asked.
"Any time," said Sordo. "They should have come before."
"Do you think these sons of the great whore will attack again?"
"Only if the planes do not come."
He did not think there was any need to speak about the mortar. They would know it soon enough when the mortar came.
"God knows they've enough planes with what we saw yesterday."
"Too many," Sordo said.
His head hurt very much and his arm was stiffening40 so that the pain of moving it was almost unbearable41. He looked up at the bright, high, blue early summer sky as he raised the leather wine bottle with his good arm. He was fifty-two years old and he was sure this was the last time he would see that sky.
He was not at all afraid of dying but he was angry at being trapped on this hill which was only utilizable42 as a place to die. If we could have gotten clear, he thought. If we could have made them come up the long valley or if we could have broken loose across the road it would have been all right. But this chancre of a hill. We must use it as well as we can and we have used it very well so far.
If he had known how many men in history have had to use a hill to die on it would not have cheered him any for, in the moment he was passing through, men are not impressed by what has happened to other men in similar circumstances any more than a widow of one day is helped by the knowledge that other loved husbands have died. Whether one has fear of it or not, one's death is difficult to accept. Sordo had accepted it but there was no sweetness in its acceptance even at fifty-two, with three wounds and him surrounded on a hill.
He joked about it to himself but he looked at the sky and at the far mountains and he swallowed the wine and he did not want it. If one must die, he thought, and clearly one must, I can die. But I hate it.
Dying was nothing and he had no picture of it nor fear of it in his mind. But living was a field of grain blowing in the wind on the side of a hill. Living was a hawk43 in the sky. Living was an earthen jar of water in the dust of the threshing with the grain flailed44 out and the chaff45 blowing. Living was a horse between your legs and a carbine under one leg and a hill and a valley and a stream with trees along it and the far side of the valley and the hills beyond.
Sordo passed the wine bottle back and nodded his head in thanks. He leaned forward and patted the dead horse on the shoulder where the muzzle of the automatic rifle had burned the hide. He could still smell the burnt hair. He thought how he had held the horse there, trembling, with the fire around them, whispering and cracking, over and around them like a curtain, and had carefully shot him just at the intersection46 of the cross-lines between the two eyes and the ears. Then as the horse pitched down he had dropped down behind his warm, wet back to get the gun to going as they came up the hill.
"_Eras mucho caballo_," he said, meaning, "Thou wert plenty of horse."
El Sordo lay now on his good side and looked up at the sky. He was lying on a heap of empty cartridge34 hulls47 but his head was protected by the rock and his body lay in the lee of the horse. His wounds had stiffened badly and he had much pain and he felt too tired to move.
"What passes with thee, old one?" the man next to him asked.
"Nothing. I am taking a little rest."
"Sleep," the other said. "_They_ will wake us when they come."
Just then some one shouted from down the slope.
"Listen, bandits!" the voice came from behind the rocks where the closest automatic rifle was placed. "Surrender now before the planes blow you to pieces."
"What is it he says?" Sordo asked.
Joaqu璯 told him. Sordo rolled to one side and pulled himself up so that he was crouched48 behind the gun again.
"Maybe the planes aren't coming," he said. "Don't answer them and do not fire. Maybe we can get them to attack again."
"If we should insult them a little?" the man who had spoken to Joaqu璯 about La Pasionaria's son in Russia asked.
"No," Sordo said. "Give me thy big pistol. Who has a big pistol?"
"Here."
"Give it to me." Crouched on his knees he took the big 9 mm. Star and fired one shot into the ground beside the dead horse, waited, then fired again four times at irregular intervals50. Then he waited while he counted sixty and then fired a final shot directly into the body of the dead horse. He grinned and handed back the pistol.
"Reload it," he whispered, "and that every one should keep his mouth shut and no one shoot."
"_Bandidos!_" the voice shouted from behind the rocks.
No one spoke36 on the hill.
"_Bandidos!_ Surrender now before we blow thee to little pieces."
"They're biting," Sordo whispered happily.
As he watched, a man showed his head over the top of the rocks. There was no shot from the hilltop and the head went down again. El Sordo waited, watching, but nothing more happened. He turned his head and looked at the others who were all watching down their sectors51 of the slope. As he looked at them the others shook their heads.
"Let no one move," he whispered.
"Sons of the great whore," the voice came now from behind the rocks again.
"Red swine. Mother rapers. Eaters of the milk of thy fathers."
Sordo grinned. He could just hear the bellowed52 insults by turning his good ear. This is better than the aspirin, he thought. How many will we get? Can they be that foolish?
The voice had stopped again and for three minutes they heard nothing and saw no movement. Then the sniper behind the boulder a hundred yards down the slope exposed himself and fired. The bullet hit a rock and ricocheted with a sharp whine53. Then Sordo saw a man, bent double, run from the shelter of the rocks where the automatic rifle was across the open ground to the big boulder behind which the sniper was hidden. He almost dove behind the boulder.
Sordo looked around. They signalled to him that there was no movement on the other slopes. El Sordo grinned happily and shook his head. This is ten times better than the aspirin, he thought, and he waited, as happy as only a hunter can be happy.
Below on the slope the man who had run from the pile of stones to the shelter of the boulder was speaking to the sniper.
"Do you believe it?"
"I don't know," the sniper said.
"It would be logical," the man, who was the officer in command, said. "They are surrounded. They have nothing to expect but to die."
The sniper said nothing.
"What do you think?" the officer asked.
"Nothing," the sniper said.
"Have you seen any movement since the shots?"
"None at all."
The officer looked at his wrist watch. It was ten minutes to three o'clock.
"The planes should have come an hour ago," he said. Just then another officer flopped54 in behind the boulder. The sniper moved over to make room for him.
"Thou, Paco," the first officer said. "How does it seem to thee?"
The second officer was breathing heavily from his sprint55 up and across the hillside from the automatic rifle position.
"For me it is a trick," he said.
"But if it is not? What a ridicule56 we make waiting here and laying siege to dead men."
"We have done something worse than ridiculous already," the second officer said. "Look at that slope."
He looked up the slope to where the dead were scattered57 close to the top. From where he looked the line of the hilltop showed the scattered rocks, the belly58, projecting legs, shod hooves jutting59 out, of Sordo's horse, and the fresh dirt thrown up by the digging.
"What about the mortars60?" asked the second officer.
"They should be here in an hour. If not before."
"Then wait for them. There has been enough stupidity already."
"_Bandidos!_" the first officer shouted suddenly, getting to his feet and putting his head well up above the boulder so that the crest of the hill looked much closer as he stood upright. "Red swine! Cowards!"
The second officer looked at the sniper and shook his head. The sniper looked away but his lips tightened61.
The first officer stood there, his head all clear of the rock and with his hand on his pistol butt62. He cursed and vilified63 the hilltop. Nothing happened. Then he stepped clear of the boulder and stood there looking up the hill.
"Fire, cowards, if you are alive," he shouted. "Fire on one who has no fear of any Red that ever came out of the belly of the great whore."
This last was quite a long sentence to shout and the officer's face was red and congested as he finished.
The second officer, who was a thin sunburned man with quiet eyes, a thin, long-lipped mouth and a stubble of beard over his hollow cheeks, shook his head again. It was this officer who was shouting who had ordered the first assault. The young lieutenant64 who was dead up the slope had been the best friend of this other lieutenant who was named Paco Berrendo and who was listening to the shouting of the captain, who was obviously in a state of exaltation.
"Those are the swine who shot my sister and my mother," the captain said. He had a red face and a blond, British-looking moustache and there was something wrong about his eyes. They were a light blue and the lashes65 were light, too. As you looked at them they seemed to focus slowly. Then "Reds," he shouted. "Cowards!" and commenced cursing again.
He stood absolutely clear now and, sighting carefully, fired his pistol at the only target that the hilltop presented: the dead horse that had belonged to Sordo. The bullet threw up a puff66 of dirt fifteen yards below the horse. The captain fired again. The bullet hit a rock and sung off.
The captain stood there looking at the hilltop. The Lieutenant Berrendo was looking at the body of the other lieutenant just below the summit. The sniper was looking at the ground under his eyes. Then he looked up at the captain.
"There is no one alive up there," the captain said. "Thou," he said to the sniper, "go up there and see."
The sniper looked down. He said nothing.
"Don't you hear me?" the captain shouted at him.
"Yes, my captain," the sniper said, not looking at him.
"Then get up and go." The captain still had his pistol out. "Do you hear me?"
"Yes, my captain."
"Why don't you go, then?"
"I don't want to, my captain."
"You don't _want_ to?" The captain pushed the pistol against the small of the man's back. "You don't _want_ to?"
"I am afraid, my captain," the soldier said with dignity.
Lieutenant Berrendo, watching the captain's face and his odd eyes, thought he was going to shoot the man then.
"Captain Mora," he said.
"Lieutenant Berrendo?"
"It is possible the soldier is right."
"That he is right to say he is afraid? That he is right to say he does not _want_ to obey an order?"
"No. That he is right that it is a trick."
"They are all dead," the captain said. "Don't you hear me say they are all dead?'
"You mean our comrades on the slope?" Berrendo asked him. "I agree with you."
"Paco," the captain said, "don't be a fool. Do you think you are the only one who cared for Juli嫕? I tell you the Reds are dead. Look!"
He stood up, then put both hands on top of the boulder and pulled himself up, kneeing-up awkwardly, then getting on his feet.
"Shoot," he shouted, standing67 on the gray granite68 boulder and waved both his arms. "Shoot me! Kill me!"
On the hilltop El Sordo lay behind the dead horse and grinned.
What a people, he thought. He laughed, trying to hold it in because the shaking hurt his arm.
"Reds," came the shout from below. "Red canaille. Shoot me! Kill me!"
Sordo, his chest shaking, barely peeped past the horse's crupper and saw the captain on top of the boulder waving his arms. Another officer stood by the boulder. The sniper was standing at the other side. Sordo kept his eye where it was and shook his head happily.
"Shoot me," he said softly to himself. "Kill me!" Then his shoulders shook again. The laughing hurt his arm and each time he laughed his head felt as though it would burst. But the laughter shook him again like a spasm69.
Captain Mora got down from the boulder.
"Now do you believe me, Paco?" he questioned Lieutenant Berrendo.
"No," said Lieutenant Berrendo.
"_Cojones!_" the captain said. "Here there is nothing but idiots and cowards."
The sniper had gotten carefully behind the boulder again and Lieutenant Berrendo was squatting70 beside him.
The captain, standing in the open beside the boulder, commenced to shout filth71 at the hilltop. There is no language so filthy72 as Spanish. There are words for all the vile73 words in English and there are other words and expressions that are used only in countries where blasphemy74 keeps pace with the austerity of religion. Lieutenant Berrendo was a very devout75 Catholic. So was the sniper. They were Carlists from Navarra and while both of them cursed and blasphemed when they were angry they regarded it as a sin which they regularly confessed.
As they crouched now behind the boulder watching the captain and listening to what he was shouting, they both disassociated themselves from him and what he was saying. They did not want to have that sort of talk on their consciences on a day in which they might die. Talking thus will not bring luck, the sniper thought. Speaking thus of the _Virgen_ is bad luck. This one speaks worse than the Reds.
Juli嫕 is dead, Lieutenant Berrendo was thinking. Dead there on the slope on such a day as this is. And this foul76 mouth stands there bringing more ill fortune with his blasphemies77.
Now the captain stopped shouting and turned to Lieutenant Berrendo. His eyes looked stranger than ever.
"Paco," he said, happily, "you and I will go up there."
"Not me."
"What?" The captain had his pistol out again.
I hate these pistol brandishers, Berrendo was thinking. They cannot give an order without jerking a gun out. They probably pull out their pistols when they go to the toilet and order the move they will make.
"I will go if you order me to. But under protest," Lieutenant Berrendo told the captain.
"Then I will go alone," the captain said. "The smell of cowardice78 is too strong here."
Holding his pistol in his right hand, he strode steadily79 up the slope. Berrendo and the sniper watched him. He was making no attempt to take any cover and he was looking straight ahead of him at the rocks, the dead horse, and the fresh-dug dirt of the hilltop.
El Sordo lay behind the horse at the corner of the rock, watching the captain come striding up the hill.
Only one, he thought. We get only one. But from his manner of speaking he is _caza mayor_. Look at him walking. Look what an animal. Look at him stride forward. This one is for me. This one I take with me on the trip. This one coming now makes the same voyage I do. Come on, Comrade Voyager. Come striding. Come right along. Come along to meet it. Come on. Keep on walking. Don't slow up. Come right along. Come as thou art coming. Don't stop and look at those. That's right. Don't even look down. Keep on coming with your eyes forward. Look, he has a moustache. What do you think of that? He runs to a moustache, the Comrade Voyager. He is a captain. Look at his sleeves. I said he was _caza mayor_. He has the face of an _Ingl廥_. Look. With a red face and blond hair and blue eyes. With no cap on and his moustache is yellow. With blue eyes. With pale blue eyes. With pale blue eyes with something wrong with them. With pale blue eyes that don't focus. Close enough. Too close. Yes, Comrade Voyager. Take it, Comrade Voyager.
He squeezed the trigger of the automatic rifle gently and it pounded back three times against his shoulder with the slippery jolt80 the recoil81 of a tripoded automatic weapon gives.
The captain lay on his face on the hillside. His left arm was under him. His right arm that had held the pistol was stretched forward of his head. From all down the slope they were firing on the hill crest again.
Crouched behind the boulder, thinking that now he would have to sprint across that open space under fire, Lieutenant Berrendo heard the deep hoarse82 voice of Sordo from the hilltop.
"_Bandidos!_" the voice came. "_Bandidos!_ Shoot me! Kill me!"
On the top of the hill El Sordo lay behind the automatic rifle laughing so that his chest ached, so that he thought the top of his head would burst.
"_Bandidos_," he shouted again happily. "Kill me, _bandidos!_" Then he shook his head happily. We have lots of company for the Voyage, he thought.
He was going to try for the other officer with the automatic rifle when he would leave the shelter of the boulder. Sooner or later he would have to leave it. Sordo knew that he could never command from there and he thought he had a very good chance to get him.
Just then the others on the hill heard the first sound of the coming of the planes.
El Sordo did not hear them. He was covering the down-slope edge of the boulder with his automatic rifle and he was thinking: when I see him he will be running already and I will miss him if I am not careful. I could shoot behind him all across that stretch. I should swing the gun with him and ahead of him. Or let him start and then get on him and ahead of him. I will try to pick him up there at the edge of the rock and swing just ahead of him. Then he felt a touch on his shoulder and he turned and saw the gray, fear-drained face of Joaqu璯 and he looked where the boy was pointing and saw the three planes coming.
At this moment Lieutenant Berrendo broke from behind the boulder and, with his head bent and his legs plunging83, ran down and across the slope to the shelter of the rocks where the automatic rifle was placed.
Watching the planes, Sordo never saw him go.
"Help me to pull this out," he said to Joaqu璯 and the boy dragged the automatic rifle clear from between the horse and the rock.
The planes were coming on steadily. They were in echelon84 and each second they grew larger and their noise was greater.
"Lie on your backs to fire at them," Sordo said. "Fire ahead of them as they come."
He was watching them all the time. "_Cabrones!_ _Hijos de puta!_" he said rapidly.
"Ignacio!" he said. "Put the gun on the shoulder of the boy. Thou!" to Joaqu璯, "Sit there and do not move. Crouch49 over. More. No. More."
He lay back and sighted with the automatic rifle as the planes came on steadily.
"Thou, Ignacio, hold me the three legs of that tripod." They were dangling85 down the boy's back and the muzzle of the gun was shaking from the jerking of his body that Joaqu璯 could not control as he crouched with bent head hearing the droning roar of their coming.
Lying flat on his belly and looking up into the sky watching them come, Ignacio gathered the legs of the tripod into his two hands and steadied the gun.
"Keep thy head down," he said to Joaqu璯. "Keep thy head forward."
"Pasionaria says 'Better to die on thy--' " Joaqu璯 was saying to himself as the drone came nearer them. Then he shifted suddenly into "Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee; Blessed art thou among women and Blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen. Holy Mary, Mother of God," he started, then he remembered quickly as the roar came now unbearably86 and started an act of contrition87 racing88 in it, "Oh my God, I am heartily89 sorry for having offended thee who art worthy90 of all my love--"
Then there were the hammering explosions past his ears and the gun barrel hot against his shoulder. It was hammering now again and his ears were deafened91 by the muzzle blast. Ignacio was pulling down hard on the tripod and the barrel was burning his back. It was hammering now in the roar and he could not remember the act of contrition.
All he could remember was at the hour of our death. Amen. At the hour of our death. Amen. At the hour. At the hour. Amen. The others all were firing. Now and at the hour of our death. Amen.
Then, through the hammering of the gun, there was the whistle of the air splitting apart and then in the red black roar the earth rolled under his knees and then waved up to hit him in the face and then dirt and bits of rock were falling all over and Ignacio was lying on him and the gun was lying on him. But he was not dead because the whistle came again and the earth rolled under him with the roar. Then it came again and the earth lurched under his belly and one side of the hilltop rose into the air and then fell slowly over them where they lay.
The planes came back three times and bombed the hilltop but no one on the hilltop knew it. Then the planes machine-gunned the hilltop and went away. As they dove on the hill for the last time with their machine guns hammering, the first plane pulled up and winged over and then each plane did the same and they moved from echelon to V-formation and went away into the sky in the direction of Segovia.
Keeping a heavy fire on the hilltop, Lieutenant Berrendo pushed a patrol up to one of the bomb craters93 from where they could throw grenades onto the crest. He was taking no chances of any one being alive and waiting for them in the mess that was up there and he threw four grenades into the confusion of dead horses, broken and split rocks, and torn yellow-stained explosive-stinking earth before he climbed out of the bomb crater92 and walked over to have a look.
No one was alive on the hilltop except the boy Joaqu璯, who was unconscious under the dead body of Ignacio. Joaqu璯 was bleeding from the nose and from the ears. He had known nothing and had no feeling since he had suddenly been in the very heart of the thunder and the breath had been wrenched94 from his body when the one bomb struck so close and Lieutenant Berrendo made the sign of the cross and then shot him in the back of the head, as quickly and as gently, if such an abrupt95 movement can be gentle, as Sordo had shot the wounded horse.
Lieutenant Berrendo stood on the hilltop and looked down the slope at his own dead and then across the country seeing where they had galloped before Sordo had turned at bay here. He noticed all the dispositions96 that had been made of the troops and then he ordered the dead men's horses to be brought up and the bodies tied across the saddles so that they might be packed in to La Granja.
"Take that one, too," he said. "The one with his hands on the automatic rifle. That should be Sordo. He is the oldest and it was he with the gun. No. Cut the head off and wrap it in a poncho97." He considered a minute. "You might as well take all the heads. And of the others below on the slope and where we first found them. Collect the rifles and pistols and pack that gun on a horse."
Then he walked down to where the lieutenant lay who had been killed in the first assault. He looked down at him but did not touch him.
"_Qu?cosa m嫳 mala es la guerra_," he said to himself, which meant, "What a bad thing war is."
Then he made the sign of the cross again and as he walked down the hill he said five Our Fathers and five Hail Marys for the repose98 of the soul of his dead comrade. He did not wish to stay to see his orders being carried out.
“聋子”在小山顼上作战。他不喜欢这座小山，他见到这座山的时候，就觉得它的形状很象下疳。伹是除了这座山之外投有其他选择。他从老远望来，看到了这座山，就选中了它，策马朝它跑来，背上背着沉重的自动步枪，马儿吃力地爬着坡，身子在他胯下颠箱，一袋手榴弹在他身体的一边晃荡着，一袋自动步枪的弹药盘碰撞着他身体的另一边。华金和伊袼纳西奥不时停一会儿，开几枪,停一会儿,开几枪，好让他有时间找个有利的地形架枪。
那时,使他们遭殃的雪还没化尽。“聋于”的马被打中了,因此它呼哧呼哧地喘着气，缓漫而蹒珊地爬上通向山顶的最后一段路，伤口鲜血直进，洒在雪地上，“聋子”拉着马笼头,肩上搭着马继绳，使劲拉着马一起爬山。枪弹啪啪地射在岩石上,他肩上挎着两袋沉重的弹药，拼命爬山，接着他挑了个合适的地方,抓住马鬃，利索、熟练而怀着深情地对马开了一枪。于是马儿脑袋向前栽倒，填补了两块岩石之间的缺口。他把枪架在马背上射击，射掉了两盘弹药。枪身格袼作响，空弹壳进到雪地里,搁在马身上的灼热的枪筒烫焦了马皮，散发出马鬃毛的焦糊味。他向冲上山来的敌人射击，迫使他们散开去找掩护,同时总觉得背上发毛,不知道背后会出现什么情况。等到他们五个人中间最后的一个到达了山顶，他才没有后顾之忧，保留下剩下的那几盘弹药，以备不时之冊。
山坡上还有两匹死马，这儿山顶上也有三匹。昨夜他只倫到三匹马，其中有一匹，当他们跟敌人一交上火，在营地的马栏里来不及备鞍就想跨上去时，拔脚逃跑了。
到达山顶的五个人中三个负了伤。“聋子”腿肚上受了伤，左臂上伤了两处。他非常口渴，伤口庥木发硬，左臂上有个伤口很痛。还有，他头痛欲裂，他躺着等待飞机飞来，想起了一句西班牙俏皮话,“应当象吃阿司匹林片那样地接受死亡。”但是他并没有把这甸笑话大声说出来。每当他挪动胳臂，扭头看看周围他那伙剩下的弟兄时，就感到头痛恶心。他在头痛和恶心中咧。
五个人象五角星的五个角尖般展开着，他们用双手双睞挖掘,用泥土和石块在头和肩膀前筑起了土墩。有了这些土墩当掩护，他们用石块和泥土把各个土墩联起来。华金十八岁，他有一个钢盔，便用来挖掘并传送泥土孩。
他这只头盔是在炸火车时搞到的。头盔上有个子弹窟寤，大家常常取笑他保存这头盔。伹他敲平了窟瘙边的豁口，在窟寐中打了个木塞，然后把里面的木塞头削掉，锉得和钢皮一烺枪声初响时，他猛地把钢盔套在头上,哐啷一声，好象头上给莱锅揍了一下。他的马被打死后,他肺部剧痛,两腿死沉，嘴里千渴，在子弹纷飞、枪声大作中冲上山坡最后一段路时，那顶头盔仿佛变得重极，“，象一道铁箱般箍住了他那要炸裂的前额。但是他没有丢掉它-他现在就用它不停地，简直象台机器似地拼命挖掘。他还没中弹。
“它总算还有点儿用处啊。”“聋子”用低沉的堠音对他说。
“坚持斗争就是胜利。”华金说，由于恐惧，他口腾干得不听使唤，超过了战斗时常有的口渴。那是共产党的一句口号
“聋子”转过头去，望着山坡下有个骑兵躲在一块大岩石后打冷枪。他很喜欢这个小伙子，但没心情欣赏口号了，“你说什么?”
他们中间有个人从他在筑的工事面前转过头来 这个人脸面籾下匍匆着，下巴抵住地面,小心翼翼地伸手放 块岩石。华金一刻不停地在挖，他用那干渴而年靑的声音把口号又说了一遍。
“最后一个词是什么。”下巴抵住地面的人问。。”
“胜利，”小伙子说。
“狗屁，”下巴抵住地面的人说1
“还有一句，这里也用得上，”华金说，仿佛这句话的每一个词是一个护身符似的，“伊芭露丽说 宁愿站着死，不愿跪着
生。“
“又是狗屁，”那人说。另一个人扭过头说。”“我们是伏着，不是跪着。”
“你明。共产党员。你的伊芭露丽有个儿子和你年岁相仿,革命开始以来，送去了俄国,你知道吗？”“那是胡扯。”华金说。
“什么胡祉，”另一个说。“这是那个名字古怪的爆破手跟我讲的。他也是你的同党。他干吗胡扯?”
“胡扯。”华金说。“把儿子藏在俄国逃避战争，她不会干这种事。”
“我在俄国就好了，”聋子伙里又一个说。“你的伊芭露丽现在不会把我从这里送到俄国去吧,共产党员？”
〃要是你这样信赖你的伊芭露丽,那么叫她帮我们离开这个山头吧，”一个大腿上绑着绑带的人说。
“法西斯分子会叫你离幵的。”下巴抵在泥里的人说。“别说这种话了，”华金对他说。
“把你嘴上你妈妈的奶水擦擦干,给我一头盔泥吧。”下巴抵住地面的人说。“我们谁也看不到今晚太阳下山了。“
“聋子〃在想 这座山的样子真象下疳。要不,象大姑娘没有扔头的乳房。要不，象圆锥形的火山顶。他想。”你从来没见过火山。你永远也见不着了。这座山象下疳。别提火山了。现在想看火山已经太迟啦。
①伊芭露丽为西班牙共产党创始人之一，早年即用 热情之花，为笔名为革命报刊撰文，曾霣次被捕入狱。一九三六年二月当选为议会代表。内战期间鉑终留在马德里撰写文章为共和国政府作宜传。一九三九年三月首都陷落后，她出国到苏联流亡,并到欧洲和檗国参加反佛朗哥政权的活动咨上面引的一旬话是她的名言
他从死马的肩隆边万分小心地朝外望了一眼，山坡下方一块大岩石后面立刻射来一梭子弹，他听到手提机枪子弹射入马身上的噗噗声。他在马？“后面匍匐爬去，从马臀部和一块岩石之间的缺口朗外望去。就在他下面的山坡上有三具？“体，那是法西斯分子在自动步枪和手提机枪的火力掩护下肉山顶冲锋时倒下的；他当时和其他人把手榴弹扔下去，从山坡上滚下去，粉碎了这次进攻。山顶的另一边还有些？“体，他没法看到。敌人没有可以倩以冲上山顶的射击死角，而“聋子”知道,只要他的弹药和手榴弹够用，他的一伙还有四个人，敌人就没法把他从这里赶跑,除非拉来迫击炮。他不知道他们是否已派人到拉格兰哈去要迫击炮。也许没去，因为飞机当然就快来了，侦察机从他们头上飞过巳有四个小时了，
这座山真象下疳,“聋子”想,我们呢，就是上面的脓。但是他们愚蠢地进攻时被我们杀死了不少。他们怎么会以为这样就可以打垮我们呢？他们有了这样新式的武器，忘乎所以，昏了头啦。他们弯着腰冲上山的时侯，他扔了个手櫥弹,“騸一跳地滚下山坡，把那带头强攻的年青军官炸死了,他在1片黄色的闪光和灰色的尘雾中看到这个军官身子朝前一冲，栽倒在他这时躺着的地方，象一大堆披烂的农服。这是他们进攻所达到的最远的地方。“聋子”望望这具？“体,然后望着山坡下方的其他？“体。
这帮家伙有勇无谋，他想。但是他们现在头脑清醒了,飞机到来之前不再进攻了。当然啦，除非他们派来“尊迫击炮。有了迫击炮就好办了。这种情況下一般都用迫击炮。他知道，迫击炮一来他们就会完蛋,但是当他想到要来飞机的时候,他觉得自己在山顶上一充遮蔽，好象赤身裸体，甚至连皮肤都被扒掉了似的，他想,我觉得没有比这更赤裸棵的了 相形之下,一只剥皮的兔子也象一头熊那样有遮盖的了，可是他们干吗赛派飞机来?他们用一尊迫击炮就可以轻而易举地把我们从山上轰走。然而他们认为他们的飞机了不起，说不定会派飞机来。正象他们认为他们的自动武器了不起,于是就干出了那种蠹事。可是不用说,他们一定巳经去调迫击炮了。
有人开了一枪，随即猛的一拉枪栓，又开了一枪。“要节省子弹，”“聋子”说。
“有个老婊子养的想冲到那块岩石后面，”那人指着。“你打中他没有？”“聋子”困难地转过头来问，“没有，”那人说。“杂种缩回去了。”“比拉尔是头号婊子，”下巴抵在泥里的那人说，“这婊子知道我们在这儿要完蛋了。”
“她帮不了忙，”“聋子”说。那人这句话是在他那只正常的耳朵一边说的，他不用回头就听到了，“她有什么办法?”“从背后干这些婊子养的，“
“什么话。”“聋子”说。"他们布满了整个山坡。她怎样下手打他们呢？他们有一百五十人。现在说不定更多了。”“不过，要是我们能坚持到天黑的话。”华金说。“要是圣诞节成了复活节的话。”下巴抵在泥里的人说。“要是你大婶有卵子的话,她就成了你大伯了，”另一个对他说。“叫你的伊芭露丽来吧。只有她能保佑我们了。”
〃我不信关于她儿子的说法，”华金说〃“如果他在那儿，准是在受训练，将来当飞机驾驶员什么的。” 、
“他躲在那儿保险,”那人对他说。
“他正在学辩证法。你的伊芭鼉丽到那儿去过。利斯特和莫德斯托那一帮人都去过，这是那个怪名字的家伙跟我讲的。”
“他们应该到那边去学习好了回来帮助我们。”华金说。“他们现在就应该来帮助我们，”另“个说。“那伙肮脏的俄国骗子手现在都该来帮助我们。”他又打了一枪说。”“我搡他的,义没打中。”
“要节省子弹，话别太多,要不然会很口渴,聋子”说，—这儿山上没水。”
“喝这个吧，”那人说着,侧过身子从头上退下挎在肩上的皮酒袋，递给“聋子”。“湫湫口，老伙计。你受了伤，一定。艮口浪。”
“大家喝。”“聋子”说。
“那我来先喝一点，”主人说着，把酒袋一挤，喷了好些酒在自己嘴里，这才把它递给大家。
“‘聋子’，你看飞机什么时候来？”下巴抵在泥里的人问，
“随时都会来，?聋子”说。“他们早该来了。”“你认为这些老婊子养的会再进攻吗?”“只要飞机不来。”
他觉得没必要提追击炮。迫击炮一来,他们马上会明白的，“我的天主，拿我们昨夭看到的来说，他们的飞机是够多的。”
"太多啦"聋子”说，
他头痛得厉害，一条胳膊僅硬得一动就痛得简直受不了。他用那条好胳膊举起皮酒袋,同时仰望着那明净蔚藍的初夏天空，他五十二岁了，他相信这准是他最后一次看到那样的天空了，
他一点也不怕死，但气愤的是给困在这座只能当作葬身之地的小山上。他想。”如果我们能够脱身，如果我们能迫使他们从那长长的山谷中过来，或者我们能突出去,穿过那公路，那就好了。可是这座下疳般的山哪。我们必须尽可能好好利用这座山的地形，到目前为止，我们利用得满不错。
如果他知道历史上有许多人不得不用一座小山作为葬身之地，他的情绪不会因此而高一些，因为在他当时的情况下，人们不会关心别人在相同情况下的遭遇，正如一个新寡的妇人不会由于得知别人心爱的丈夫去世而凭添慰藉。不管一个人怕不怕死,死亡是难以接受的。“聋子”不怕死,但尽管他已经五十二岁，身上三处负伤，被困在山上,死亡还是没有可爱的地方。
他在心里拿这个来开玩笑，但他望望天空，望望远处的山岭,喝了口酒,却并不想死。他想，要是人一定要死的话一显然人是非死不可的一那么我可以死。只是我讨厌死啊，死没什么了不起，他心中投有死的图景，也没有对死的惧怕。但是山坡上麦浪起伏的田地、天空中的苍麼、打稻筛谷时秣屑飞扬中喝的一陶罐水、你胯下的马儿、一条腿下夹着的卡宾枪、小山、河谷、两岸长着树木的小溪、河谷的那一边以及远方的群山，这一切都生意盎然。
〃聋子”交还皮酒袋，点头致谢。他向前欠身,拍拍被自动步枪枪筒烫焦皮的死马肩头。他仍能闻到马鬃毛的焦味。他回想到当时子弹在他们头上和四周嘘嘘而过,密集得象帷幕，他怎样把战栗的马牵到这里，小心地对准马儿两眼和两耳之间的连结线的交叉点打了一枪。然后，乘马栽倒的时候,他立刻伏在那暖和而潮湿的马背后,架好枪射击冲上山来的故人。’“真是匹了不起的好马，”他说，“聋子〃这时把身子没受伤的一侧貼在地上，仰望着天空。他躺在一堆空弹壳上，他的头有岩石遮掩着，身体伏在马？“背后。他感到伤口僅硬,痛得厉害,他觉得疲乏得没法动弹了。“
“你怎么啦，老伙计?”他身边的人问他。“没什么。我休息一会儿。”
“睡吧，”身边那人说。来的时候会吵醒我们的。”正在这时，山坡下有人“喊 了。
“听着，土匪！”声音来自架着离他们最近的自动步枪的岩石后面。“飞机一来要把你们炸得粉身碎骨，现在就投降吧。”“他说什么?”“聋子”问。
华金告诉了他。“聋子”侧身一滚,抬起上半身,这样又鳟伏在枪后面了。
“飞机也许不会就来，”他说。“别答理他们，别开枪 说不定我们可以引他们再来攻。”
“我们骂他们几声怎么样?”那个跟华金谈起伊芭露丽的儿子在俄国的人问。
“不行，”“聋子”说。“把你的大手枪给我。谁有大手枪?”“这儿。”
“把枪给我。”他双膝跪着，接过一支九毫米口径的星脒大手枪，朝死马旁边的地上打了一枪，等了一会儿，叉断断续续地打了四枪。接着，他数到六十,然后对准马？“体上打了最后一枪。他露齿笑笑,交还手枪。
“上好子弹，”他低声说,“大家都别开口，谁也不许开枪，““土匪 ”岩石后大声喊着。山上没人说话。
“土匪！投降吧，不然把你们炸得粉碎。”“他们要上钩啦，”“聋子”髙兴地低声说。在他等着的时候，一个人从岩石堆后面探出头来。山顶上一弹不发，那顆脑袋又缩回去了？聋子”等着、张望着,却再投出现什么情况。他转过头，着到其他的人都在观察着各人前面的山坡,他望着他们，他们都摇摇头。“谁也不许动，”他低声说。“老婊子养的，”岩石后又传来了骂声。“共匪。嫖娘的。咂你们爸爸鸡巴的。”“聋子”霣齿笑着。他侧过那只正常的耳朵，才听清这大声臭骂。他想 这可比阿司匹林妙啊。我们能打死几个呢？他们能那样蠢吗？
骂声又停了,他们有三分钟没听到什么声音，没见到什么动静。接着，山坡下一百码远的一块岩石后面埋伏着的人探出头来,开了一枪。子弹打在一块岩石上，一声尖厉的呼啸，眺飞开去-接着，“聋子”看到有人弯睡从架着自动步枪的岩石后面跑出来,穿过空地,朝躲在一块大岩石后的伏击者跑去 他几乎是纵身一眺扑到这大岩石后边去的。
“聋子”朝四周望着。他们对他打手势，表示其他山坡上没有动静。“聋子”高兴地笑笑，摇摇头。他想,这可比阿司匹林妙上十倍。他等着，这股髙兴劲儿只有猎人才会有。
山坡下从岩石堆后奔到大岩石后去的那个人正在对那伏击者讲话。
“你相倌吗？”“说不准，”伏击者说。
“这是合乎情理的，”这个身任指挥官的人说。“他们被包围，“,没了指望，只有死路一条。“伏击者没说什么，“你认为怎么样？”指挥官问。〃看不出名堂，”伏击者说。
“刚才那几声枪响以后，你看到过什么动静?"“一点也没有。”
指挥官看看手表,两点五十分。
“一个钟点以前，飞机就该来了，”他说。正在这时，另一个军官冲到大岩石后面。伏击者挪过一点身子，给他让出些地方。“你，帕科，”第一个军官说。“你看是怎么回事?”第二个军官刚从山坡上自动步枪枪位那儿猛冲过来，正在喘大气。
“我看这里面有鬼，”他说。
“要是没有鬼呢？我们在这儿苦等着，包围着些死人，不是笑话吗?”
“我们干的事岂止可笑哪，”第二个军官说。“瞧这山坡。”他抬头望着山坡，那里？“体一直遍布到山顶。从他那儿望去，看得见山顶上一片凌乱的山石、“聋子”的死马的肚子、伸出的马腿、撅出的马蹄以及新翻起的泥土。“迫击炮怎么搞的？”第二个军官问。“再过一小时该来啦。那是说最多一小时。”“那就等迫击炮吧。蠢事已经干得够多啦。”“土匪！”第一个军官突然站起身大喊，脑袋暴露在大岩石上面。他这样站直了身体，山顶望过去显得近得多了‘“共匪 怕死鬼 ”
第二个军官望望伏击者，摇摇头。伏击者转过头去,但抿紧了嘴唇。
第一个军官站在那儿，一手按在手枪柄上，把脑袋完全暴露在岩石上方。他朝山顶恶骂、诅咒。一点动静也没有。接着他干脆从岩石后面走出来，站在那儿仰望着山顶，
“没死的话,开枪吧，怕死鬼，”他大声叫喊。“开枪打我这个不怕哪个从老婊子肚里钻出来的共匪的人吧。”
最后这句话很长,等他喊完的时候，脸涨得通红，第二个军官又摇摇头。此人长得又瘦又黑,眼神温和,嘴阔唇薄，凹陷的双颊上布满了胡子茬。首次下令进攻的是那个在大叫大喊的军官。死在山坡上的青年中尉是这个名叫帕科 贝仑多的中尉最亲密的朋友。帕科正在听那显然处于狂热状态的上尉在叫喊。
“杀我姐姐和娘的就是这帮畜生，”上尉说。他长着一张红脸，留着两繳金黄色的英国式小胡子，眼睛有点毛病。这双眼睛是浅蓝色的,睫毛也是浅色的。你如果仔细看他的眼睛,会发现它们似乎不会一下子就把注意力集中在你身上。“共亜。”他接着大喊 “怕死鬼。”又开始咒骂了。
他这时完全没有掩护，站着用手枪仔细瞄淮,朝山顶上的唯一目标，“聋子”的死马，开了一枪。枪弹在死马下面十五码的地方溅起了一股泥土。上尉又开了一枪。枪弹射在山石上，嗖的—声弹开去。
上尉站在那儿望着山顶。贝仑多中尉望着离山峰不远的另一个中尉的？“体，伏击者望着眼前的地面 他接着抬头望望上
“上面没有活人了，”上尉说。“你，”他对伏击者说,“到上面去 “
伏击者垂下了头。他一声不吭。
“你没听到我的话?”上尉对他大喝一声。
“是,我的上尉，”伏击者说,并不朝他看.
“那么站起来，走。”上尉仍握着手枪。“你没听到我的话?”
”是，我的上尉。”“那干吗不走？”“我不想去，我的上尉。”
“你予亭去?”上尉用手枪抵住他的后腰。“你予寧去?”“我么。”我的上尉。”士兵理直气壮地说。’’贝仑多中尉望着上尉的脸和异样的眼晴，以为他要就地枪涛这个兵了。
“莫拉上尉，”他说，
“贝仑多中尉？”
“这个弟兄也许没错。”
“他说怕,没错，“他说不服从命令,没错？”
“不。他说里面有鬼，没
“他们全都死了，”上尉说。“你没听到我说，他们全都死
了？“
“你是指躺在山坡上的伙伴们?”贝仑多问他。“我同意你的
话,”
“帕科，”上尉说，“别做傻瓜了。你以为惋惜胡利安中尉的只有你一个人？我跟你说，这帮共匪都死了。瞧 ”
他站起身来，双手按在大岩石顶上，引体上升，双膝别扭地搁上岩石,最后在顶上站直了身体。
“开枪吧。”他站在这灰色的花岗岩石上挥舞着两臂大“开枪打我吧 杀死我吧 ”
山顶上，伏在死马后面的“聋子”咧嘴笑了
他想 这种人啊。他笑了，因为一笑胳膊就痛，竭力忍住
了。
“共匪。”声音从下面传来。“流氓，开枪打我吧 杀死我吧 ”
“聋子”笑得胸口直颤，从马屁股旁偷偷张望，看到那上尉站在大岩石上挥舞着两臂。另一个军官站在岩石旁边。那个伏击者站在另一边。“聋子”目不转睹地望着，髙兴地摆着头。
“开枪打我吧他低声自语。“杀死我吧！”他的肩膀又颤动起来。他一笑胳膊就痛，脑袋也象要裂开似的。但是他又笑得象发急惊风似的全身抖动。
莫拉上尉从大岩石上下来了。
“你现在相信我了吧，帕科。”他质问贝仑多中尉。
“不。”贝仑多中尉说。
“王八蛋！”上尉说。“这儿只有自痴和怕死鬼。”伏击者又小心翼翼地躲到大岩石后面，贝仑多蹲在他旁边殳上尉站在大岩石旁毫无遮蔽，开始朝山顶谩骂。西班牙语里的賍话最多。有些脏诘英语里也有，但是另外有一些词儿却只在渎神和敬神并驾齐驱的国家①里应用。贝仑多中尉是个非常虔诚的天主教徒。伏击者也是。他们是纳瓦拉的保皇派，他们在火头上诅咒谩骂之后，认为这是罪孽，总得向神父作忏悔。
他们俩如今蹲在大岩石后望着上尉，听他大骂的时候，认为他这个人和他的咒骂都和自己无关。他们在这生死莫測的一天，不愿说这种话来使得良心上感到内疚。伏击者想,这样的谩骂不会带来好运。这样提到圣母是个凶兆。这家伙比赤色分子骂得还恶毒。
贝仑多中尉在想，胡利安死啦 在这样一个日子死在山坡
①指信奉天主教的国家
上尉这时不喊了，转身朝着贝仑多中尉。他的眼神显得空前古怪。
“帕科，”他高兴地说，“你和我一起上山吧。”“我不。”
“什么？”上尉又拔出手枪。
贝仑多在想。”我讨厌这种挥舞手枪的家伙。他们一下命令就拔手枪。也许他们上厕所也要拔出手枪才拉得出屎来。
“如果你下命令，我可以去，但是我抗议”贝仑多中尉对上尉说。
“那我一个人去，”上尉说。“这几胆小鬼的臭气太重了。”他右手握着枪，不慌不忙地大步走上山坡。贝仑多和伏击者望着他。上尉无意找掩护，笔直望着他面前山顶上的岩石、马？“和那堆新挖出的泥土。
“聋子”伏在马？“后面岩石犄角那儿，注视着上尉大步爬上山来，
他想 只有一个。我们只捞到一个，伹从他的口气听来,他是个大猎物。瞧他走路的样子。瞧这畜生。瞧他大步向前来了。这家伙归我的了。我带这家伙上路啦，现在过来的这个人跟我是同路。来吧，同路的旅伴。迈开步子。笔直过来吧。过来领教领教。来啊。“直走啊。别放悝脚步。笔直过来吧。要走来就走来吧。别停下来看那些死人啦。这就对了-别朝脚下看啊。眼睛朝前,继续走啊。瞧，他留着小胡子-你觉得这小胡子怎么样？他喜欢留小胡子,这位同路的旅伴。他是个上
收听单词发音 |
1
galloped
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| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
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laboring
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| n.劳动，操劳v.努力争取(for)( labor的现在分词 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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thigh
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| n.大腿；股骨 | |
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thighs
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| n.股，大腿( thigh的名词复数 )；食用的鸡（等的）腿 | |
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wheezed
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| v.喘息，发出呼哧呼哧的喘息声( wheeze的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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7
bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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8
reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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9
spatting
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| n.喷溅麻点（喷枪中有水珠、油滴，喷涂时造成漆膜缺陷）（漆病）v.spit的过去式和过去分词( spat的现在分词 )；口角；小争吵；鞋罩 | |
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10
clattering
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的现在分词形式） | |
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11
muzzle
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| n.鼻口部；口套；枪(炮)口；vt.使缄默 | |
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12
scatter
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| vt.撒，驱散，散开；散布/播；vi.分散，消散 | |
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13
calf
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| n.小牛，犊，幼仔，小牛皮 | |
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14
stiffened
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| 加强的 | |
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aspirin
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| n.阿司匹林 | |
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nausea
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| n.作呕，恶心；极端的憎恶(或厌恶) | |
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17
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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18
mounds
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| 土堆，土丘( mound的名词复数 )； 一大堆 | |
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19
fortify
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| v.强化防御，为…设防；加强，强化 | |
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20
cavalryman
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| 骑兵 | |
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21
boulder
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| n.巨砾；卵石，圆石 | |
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22
talismans
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| n.护身符( talisman的名词复数 )；驱邪物；有不可思议的力量之物；法宝 | |
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23
bellies
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| n.肚子( belly的名词复数 )；腹部；（物体的）圆形或凸起部份；腹部…形的 | |
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24
dynamiter
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| n.炸药使用者（尤指革命者） | |
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25
fascists
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| n.法西斯主义的支持者( fascist的名词复数 ) | |
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26
cone
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| n.圆锥体，圆锥形东西，球果 | |
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27
withers
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| 马肩隆 | |
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28
ammunition
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| n.军火，弹药 | |
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trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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30
mortar
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| n.灰浆，灰泥；迫击炮；v.把…用灰浆涂接合 | |
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31
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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32
flayed
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| v.痛打( flay的过去式和过去分词 )；把…打得皮开肉绽；剥（通常指动物）的皮；严厉批评 | |
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33
undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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34
cartridge
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| n.弹壳，弹药筒；(装磁带等的)盒子 | |
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35
cartridges
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| 子弹( cartridge的名词复数 )； （打印机的）墨盒； 录音带盒； （唱机的）唱头 | |
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36
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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aviator
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| n.飞行家，飞行员 | |
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38
wilt
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| v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎；(指人)疲倦，衰弱 | |
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39
slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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40
stiffening
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| n. (使衣服等)变硬的材料, 硬化 动词stiffen的现在分词形式 | |
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41
unbearable
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| adj.不能容忍的；忍受不住的 | |
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42
utilizable
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| adj.可利用的 | |
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43
hawk
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| n.鹰，骗子；鹰派成员 | |
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44
flailed
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| v.鞭打( flail的过去式和过去分词 )；用连枷脱粒；（臂或腿）无法控制地乱动；扫雷坦克 | |
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45
chaff
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| v.取笑，嘲笑；n.谷壳 | |
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46
intersection
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| n.交集，十字路口，交叉点；[计算机] 交集 | |
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47
hulls
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| 船体( hull的名词复数 )； 船身； 外壳； 豆荚 | |
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48
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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49
crouch
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| v.蹲伏，蜷缩，低头弯腰；n.蹲伏 | |
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50
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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51
sectors
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| n.部门( sector的名词复数 )；领域；防御地区；扇形 | |
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52
bellowed
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的过去式和过去分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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whine
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| v.哀号，号哭；n.哀鸣 | |
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flopped
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| v.（指书、戏剧等）彻底失败( flop的过去式和过去分词 )；（因疲惫而）猛然坐下；（笨拙地、不由自主地或松弛地）移动或落下；砸锅 | |
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sprint
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| n.短距离赛跑；vi. 奋力而跑，冲刺；vt.全速跑过 | |
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ridicule
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| v.讥讽，挖苦；n.嘲弄 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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jutting
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| v.（使）突出( jut的现在分词 )；伸出；（从…）突出；高出 | |
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60
mortars
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| n.迫击炮( mortar的名词复数 )；砂浆；房产；研钵 | |
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tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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vilified
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| v.中伤，诽谤( vilify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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spasm
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| n.痉挛，抽搐；一阵发作 | |
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squatting
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的现在分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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filth
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| n.肮脏，污物，污秽；淫猥 | |
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filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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blasphemy
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| n.亵渎，渎神 | |
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devout
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| adj.虔诚的，虔敬的，衷心的 (n.devoutness) | |
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foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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blasphemies
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| n.对上帝的亵渎，亵渎的言词[行为]( blasphemy的名词复数 )；侮慢的言词（或行为） | |
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78
cowardice
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| n.胆小，怯懦 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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jolt
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| v.（使）摇动，（使）震动，（使）颠簸 | |
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recoil
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| vi.退却，退缩，畏缩 | |
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82
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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84
echelon
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| n.梯队；组织系统中的等级；v.排成梯队 | |
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dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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unbearably
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| adv.不能忍受地，无法容忍地；慌 | |
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contrition
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| n.悔罪，痛悔 | |
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racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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deafened
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| 使聋( deafen的过去式和过去分词 )； 使隔音 | |
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crater
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| n.火山口，弹坑 | |
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craters
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| n.火山口( crater的名词复数 )；弹坑等 | |
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wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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dispositions
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| 安排( disposition的名词复数 )； 倾向； （财产、金钱的）处置； 气质 | |
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poncho
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| n.斗篷，雨衣 | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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