The youth left the scene behind him
and he heard and he heard the guns roar suddenly. He imagined them shaking with
black rage. Like brass devils guarding a gate, they belched and howled. The
soft air filled with tremendous remonstrance and the shattering peal of the
opposing infantry came with it. As he turned to look behind him, he saw the
sheets of orange light illumine the shadowy distance. Subtle and sudden lightnings
were in the far air and he imagined he could see masses of men heaving.
In the dusk he hurried on. The day
had faded until he could barley distinguish place for his feet. Men, who
lectured and jabbered, filled the purple darkness. The youth could sometimes
see them gesticulating against the blue and somber sky. In the forest and
fields, a great ruck of men were spread about.
The little narrow roadway now lay
lifeless. Like sun-dried boulders, there sat overturned wagons. Bodies of
horses and splintered parts of war machines chocked the bed of the former
torrent.
His wound pained him now and he was
afraid to move rapidly, for a dread of disturbing it. He held his head very
still and took many precautions against stumbling. Anxiety filled him and the
anticipation of pain of any sudden mistake pinched his face in the gloom.
His thoughts fixed intently upon
his hurt as he walked, about which there was a cool, liquid feeling. He
imagined blood moving slowly down under his hair. His head was swollen to a
size that made him think his neck was a inadequate size.
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