第47章
- THE RED BADGE OF COURAGE
- Stephen Crane
- 1013字
- 2016-03-02 16:31:58
The way seemed eternal.In the clouded haze men became panicstricken with the thought that the regiment had lost its path, and was proceed-ing in a perilous direction.Once the men who headed the wild procession turned and came push-ing 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 am-bitious 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 atti-tude of the color bearer in the fight of the pre-ceding 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 men-aces.The ground was uneven and torn.The men curled into depressions and fitted them-selves 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.
There was something curious in this little in-tent pause of the lieutenant.He was like a babe which, having wept its fill, raises its eyes and fixes upon a distant toy.He was engrossed in this contemplation, and the soft under lip quivered from self-whispered words.
Some lazy and ignorant smoke curled slowly.
The men, hiding from the bullets, waited anx-iously for it to lift and disclose the plight of the regiment.
The silent ranks were suddenly thrilled by the eager voice of the youthful lieutenant bawling out: "Here they come! Right onto us, b'Gawd!" His further words were lost in a roar of wicked thunder from the men's rifles.
The youth's eyes had instantly turned in the direction indicated by the awakened and agitated lieutenant, and he had seen the haze of treachery disclosing a body of soldiers of the enemy.They were so near that he could see their features.
There was a recognition as he looked at the types of faces.Also he perceived with dim amazement that their uniforms were rather gay in effect, being light gray, accented with a brilliant-hued facing.Too, the clothes seemed new.
These troops had apparently been going for-ward with caution, their rifles held in readiness, when the youthful lieutenant had discovered them and their movement had been interrupted by the volley from the blue regiment.From the moment's glimpse, it was derived that they had been unaware of the proximity of their dark-suited foes or had mistaken the direction.Al-most instantly they were shut utterly from the youth's sight by the smoke from the energetic rifles of his companions.He strained his vision to learn the accomplishment of the volley, but the smoke hung before him.
The two bodies of troops exchanged blows in the manner of a pair of boxers.The fast angry firings went back and forth.The men in blue were intent with the despair of their circum-stances and they seized upon the revenge to be had at close range.Their thunder swelled loud and valiant.Their curving front bristled with flashes and the place resounded with the clangor of their ramrods.The youth ducked and dodged for a time and achieved a few unsatisfactory views of the enemy.There appeared to be many of them and they were replying swiftly.They seemed moving toward the blue regiment, step by step.He seated himself gloomily on the ground with his flag between his knees.
As he noted the vicious, wolflike temper of his comrades he had a sweet thought that if the enemy was about to swallow the regimental broom as a large prisoner, it could at least have the consolation of going down with bristles for-ward.
But the blows of the antagonist began to grow more weak.Fewer bullets ripped the air, and finally, when the men slackened to learn of the fight, they could see only dark, floating smoke.The regiment lay still and gazed.Pres-ently some chance whim came to the pestering blur, and it began to coil heavily away.The men saw a ground vacant of fighters.It would have been an empty stage if it were not for a few corpses that lay thrown and twisted into fantastic shapes upon the sward.
At sight of this tableau, many of the men in blue sprang from behind their covers and made an ungainly dance of joy.Their eyes burned and a hoarse cheer of elation broke from their dry lips.
It had begun to seem to them that events were trying to prove that they were impotent.These little battles had evidently endeavored to demon-strate that the men could not fight well.When on the verge of submission to these opinions, the small duel had showed them that the propor-tions were not impossible, and by it they had revenged themselves upon their misgivings and upon the foe.
The impetus of enthusiasm was theirs again.
They gazed about them with looks of uplifted pride, feeling new trust in the grim, always confident weapons in their hands.And they were men.