Chapter 9

The youth fell back in the procession until the tattered soldier was not in sight. Then he started to walk on with the others.

The young man dropped back in the line until the ragged soldier was out of sight. Then he started walking with the others.

But he was amid wounds. The mob of men was bleeding. Because of the tattered soldier’s question he now felt that his shame could be viewed. He was continually casting sidelong glances to see if the men were contemplating the letters of guilt he felt burned into his brow.

But he was surrounded by wounded men. The crowd of men was bleeding. Because of the tattered soldier’s question, he now felt that others could see his shame. He kept glancing sideways to see if the men were studying the letters of guilt he felt burned into his forehead.

At times he regarded the wounded soldiers in an envious way. He conceived persons with torn bodies to be peculiarly happy. He wished that he, too, had a wound, a red badge of courage.

At times he envied the wounded soldiers. He thought people with torn bodies were especially lucky. He wished he, too, had a wound, a red badge of courage.

The spectral soldier was at his side like a stalking reproach. The man’s eyes were still fixed in a stare into the unknown. His gray, appalling face had attracted attention in the crowd, and men, slowing to his dreary pace, were walking with him. They were discussing his plight, questioning him and giving him advice. In a dogged way he repelled them, signing to them to go on and leave him alone. The shadows of his face were deepening and his tight lips seemed holding in check the moan of great despair. There could be seen a certain stiffness in the movements of his body, as if he were taking infinite care not to arouse the passion of his wounds. As he went on, he seemed always looking for a place, like one who goes to choose a grave.

The ghostly soldier was at his side like a haunting reminder of guilt. The man’s eyes still stared into the unknown. His gray, horrifying face had drawn attention in the crowd. Men slowed to his weary pace and walked with him. They discussed his plight, questioned him, and offered advice. He stubbornly pushed them away, signaling for them to go on and leave him alone. The shadows on his face were growing deeper. His tightly closed lips seemed to hold back a moan of deep despair. His movements were stiff, as if he were taking great care not to stir the pain of his wounds. As he walked on, he seemed always to be looking for a place, like someone choosing a grave.

Something in the gesture of the man as he waved the bloody and pitying soldiers away made the youth start as if bitten. He yelled in horror. Tottering forward he laid a quivering hand upon the man’s arm. As the latter slowly turned his waxlike features toward him the youth screamed:

Something in the man’s gesture as he waved away the bloodied soldiers who pitied him made the youth jump as if bitten. He yelled in horror. Staggering forward, he placed a trembling hand on the man’s arm. As the man slowly turned his waxlike face toward him, the youth screamed:

“Gawd! Jim Conklin!”

“God! Jim Conklin!”

The tall soldier made a little commonplace smile. “Hello, Henry,” he said.

The tall soldier gave a small, ordinary smile. “Hello, Henry,” he said.

The youth swayed on his legs and glared strangely. He stuttered and stammered. “Oh, Jim—oh, Jim—oh, Jim—”

The young man swayed on his feet and stared strangely. He stuttered and stumbled over his words. “Oh, Jim, oh, Jim, oh, Jim.”

The tall soldier held out his gory hand. There was a curious red and black combination of new blood and old blood upon it. “Where yeh been, Henry?” he asked. He continued in a monotonous voice, “I thought mebbe yeh got keeled over. There been thunder t’ pay t’-day. I was worryin’ about it a good deal.”

The tall soldier held out his bloody hand. Fresh and dried blood made a strange red and black combination on it. “Where have you been, Henry?” he asked. He continued in a flat voice, “I thought maybe you’d been killed. There’s been a lot of trouble today. I was worrying about it quite a bit.”

The youth still lamented. “Oh, Jim—oh, Jim—oh, Jim—”

The young man kept mourning. “Oh, Jim, oh, Jim, oh, Jim.”

“Yeh know,” said the tall soldier, “I was out there.” He made a careful gesture. “An’, Lord, what a circus! An’, b’jiminey, I got shot—I got shot. Yes, b’jiminey, I got shot.” He reiterated this fact in a bewildered way, as if he did not know how it came about.

“You know,” said the tall soldier, “I was out there.” He made a careful gesture. “And Lord, what a circus! And, by golly, I got shot. I got shot. Yes, by golly, I got shot.” He repeated this in a bewildered way, as if he did not know how he had been shot.

The youth put forth anxious arms to assist him, but the tall soldier went firmly as if propelled. Since the youth’s arrival as a guardian for his friend, the other wounded men had ceased to display much interest. They occupied themselves again in dragging their own tragedies toward the rear.

The youth reached out anxiously to help him, but the tall soldier moved steadily, as if pushed forward. Since the youth had arrived to look after his friend, the other wounded men had shown little interest. They returned to dragging their own tragedies toward the rear.

Suddenly, as the two friends marched on, the tall soldier seemed to be overcome by a tremor. His face turned to a semblance of gray paste. He clutched the youth’s arm and looked all about him, as if dreading to be overheard. Then he began to speak in a shaking whisper:

Suddenly, as the two friends marched on, the tall soldier seemed to tremble all over. His face turned gray, like paste. He grabbed the young man's arm and looked all around, as if afraid someone might overhear him. Then he began to speak in a trembling whisper:

“I tell yeh what I’m ’fraid of, Henry—I’ll tell yeh what I’m ’fraid of. I’m ’fraid I’ll fall down—an’ then yeh know—them damned artillery wagons—they like as not ’ll run over me. That’s what I’m ’fraid of—”

“I’ll tell you what I’m afraid of, Henry. I’ll tell you what I’m afraid of. I’m afraid I’ll fall down, and then, you know, those damned artillery wagons will probably run over me. That’s what I’m afraid of.”

The youth cried out to him hysterically: “I’ll take care of yeh, Jim! I’ll take care of yeh! I swear t’ Gawd I will!”

The young man cried out to him hysterically: “I’ll take care of you, Jim! I’ll take care of you! I swear to God I will!”

“Sure—will yeh, Henry?” the tall soldier beseeched.

“Sure, will you, Henry?” the tall soldier pleaded.

“Yes—yes—I tell yeh—I’ll take care of yeh, Jim!” protested the youth. He could not speak accurately because of the gulpings in his throat.

“Yes, yes, I’m telling you, I’ll take care of you, Jim!” the young man protested. He could not speak clearly because he kept gulping.

But the tall soldier continued to beg in a lowly way. He now hung babelike to the youth’s arm. His eyes rolled in the wildness of his terror. “I was allus a good friend t’ yeh, wa’n’t I, Henry? I’ve allus been a pretty good feller, ain’t I? An’ it ain’t much t’ ask, is it? Jest t’ pull me along outer th’ road? I’d do it fer you, wouldn’t I, Henry?”

But the tall soldier kept begging humbly. He now clung to the young man’s arm like a baby. His eyes rolled wildly with terror. “I’ve always been a good friend to you, haven’t I, Henry? I’ve always been a pretty good guy, haven’t I? And it’s not much to ask, is it? Just to pull me out of the road? I’d do it for you, wouldn’t I, Henry?”

He paused in piteous anxiety to await his friend’s reply.

He paused, anxiously awaiting his friend’s reply, a pitiful sight.

The youth had reached an anguish where the sobs scorched him. He strove to express his loyalty, but he could only make fantastic gestures.

The young man was in such anguish that his sobs burned him. He tried to express his loyalty, but could only make wild gestures.

However, the tall soldier seemed suddenly to forget all those fears. He became again the grim, stalking specter of a soldier. He went stonily forward. The youth wished his friend to lean upon him, but the other always shook his head and strangely protested. “No—no—no—leave me be—leave me be—”

But the tall soldier seemed suddenly to forget all his fears. He became the grim, stalking ghost of a soldier again. He walked forward with a stony expression. The young man wanted his friend to lean on him, but his friend kept shaking his head and protesting strangely. “No, no, no, leave me alone, leave me alone.”

His look was fixed again upon the unknown. He moved with mysterious purpose, and all of the youth’s offers he brushed aside. “No—no—leave me be—leave me be—”

His gaze was fixed on the unknown again. He moved with a mysterious purpose and brushed aside all the young man's offers. “No, no, leave me alone, leave me alone.”

The youth had to follow.

The young man had to follow.

Presently the latter heard a voice talking softly near his shoulder. Turning he saw that it belonged to the tattered soldier. “Ye’d better take ’im outa th’ road, pardner. There’s a batt’ry comin’ helitywhoop down th’ road an’ he’ll git runned over. He’s a goner anyhow in about five minutes—yeh kin see that. Ye’d better take ’im outa th’ road. Where th’ blazes does hi git his stren’th from?”

Soon, the latter heard a voice speaking softly near his shoulder. He turned and saw the tattered soldier. “You’d better get him out of the road, partner. An artillery battery is charging down the road, and he’ll get run over. He’s going to die in about five minutes anyway. You can see that. You’d better get him out of the road. Where the hell does he get his strength?”

“Lord knows!” cried the youth. He was shaking his hands helplessly.

“Lord knows!” the young man cried. He shook his hands helplessly.

He ran forward presently and grasped the tall soldier by the arm. “Jim! Jim!” he coaxed, “come with me.”

Soon he ran forward and grabbed the tall soldier by the arm. “Jim! Jim!” he coaxed, “come with me.”

The tall soldier weakly tried to wrench himself free. “Huh,” he said vacantly. He stared at the youth for a moment. At last he spoke as if dimly comprehending. “Oh! Inteh th’ fields? Oh!”

The tall soldier weakly tried to pull himself free. “Huh,” he said blankly. He stared at the young man for a moment. At last, he spoke as if he vaguely understood. “Oh! Into the fields? Oh!”

He started blindly through the grass.

He began moving blindly through the grass.

The youth turned once to look at the lashing riders and jouncing guns of the battery. He was startled from this view by a shrill outcry from the tattered man.

The young man turned to look at the riders whipping their horses and the battery’s guns bouncing along. A shrill cry from the ragged man startled him.

“Gawd! He’s runnin’!”

“God! He’s running!”

Turning his head swiftly, the youth saw his friend running in a staggering and stumbling way toward a little clump of bushes. His heart seemed to wrench itself almost free from his body at this sight. He made a noise of pain. He and the tattered man began a pursuit. There was a singular race.

The youth quickly turned his head and saw his friend staggering and stumbling toward a small clump of bushes. At the sight, his heart seemed to wrench itself almost free of his body. He cried out in pain. He and the tattered man ran after his friend. It was a strange race.

When he overtook the tall soldier he began to plead with all the words he could find. “Jim—Jim—what are you doing—what makes you do this way—you’ll hurt yerself.”

When he caught up with the tall soldier, he pleaded with every word he could find. “Jim, Jim, what are you doing? Why are you doing this? You’ll hurt yourself.”

The same purpose was in the tall soldier’s face. He protested in a dulled way, keeping his eyes fastened on the mystic place of his intentions. “No—no—don’t tech me—leave me be—leave me be—”

The tall soldier’s face showed the same purpose. He protested weakly, keeping his eyes fixed on the mysterious place he meant to reach. “No, no, don’t touch me. Leave me alone. Leave me alone.”

The youth, aghast and filled with wonder at the tall soldier, began quaveringly to question him. “Where yeh goin’, Jim? What you thinking about? Where you going? Tell me, won’t you, Jim?”

The youth was shocked and amazed by the tall soldier. He began to question him in a trembling voice. “Where are you going, Jim? What are you thinking about? Where are you going? Tell me, won’t you, Jim?”

The tall soldier faced about as upon relentless pursuers. In his eyes there was a great appeal. “Leave me be, can’t yeh? Leave me be for a minnit.”

The tall soldier turned around as if facing relentless pursuers. His eyes pleaded desperately. “Leave me alone, can’t you? Leave me alone for a minute.”

The youth recoiled. “Why, Jim,” he said, in a dazed way, “what’s the matter with you?”

The young man flinched. “Why, Jim,” he said, looking dazed, “what’s wrong with you?”

The tall soldier turned and, lurching dangerously, went on. The youth and the tattered soldier followed, sneaking as if whipped, feeling unable to face the stricken man if he should again confront them. They began to have thoughts of a solemn ceremony. There was something rite-like in these movements of the doomed soldier. And there was a resemblance in him to a devotee of a mad religion, blood-sucking, muscle-wrenching, bone-crushing. They were awed and afraid. They hung back lest he have at command a dreadful weapon.

The tall soldier turned and staggered dangerously as he went on. The youth and the tattered soldier followed, creeping along like beaten men. They felt unable to face the stricken man if he turned toward them again. They began to think of a solemn ceremony. There was something ritual-like in the doomed soldier’s movements. He resembled a follower of a mad religion that sucked blood, wrenched muscles, and crushed bones. They were filled with awe and fear. They hung back, afraid that he might have a terrible weapon at his command.

At last, they saw him stop and stand motionless. Hastening up, they perceived that his face wore an expression telling that he had at last found the place for which he had struggled. His spare figure was erect; his bloody hands were quietly at his side. He was waiting with patience for something that he had come to meet. He was at the rendezvous. They paused and stood, expectant.

At last, they saw him stop and stand still. They hurried up and saw from his face that he had finally found the place he had struggled to reach. His thin body stood upright, and his bloody hands rested quietly at his sides. He was patiently waiting for something he had come to meet. He had reached the meeting place. They stopped and stood waiting.

There was a silence.

There was a silence.

Finally, the chest of the doomed soldier began to heave with a strained motion. It increased in violence until it was as if an animal was within and was kicking and tumbling furiously to be free.

Finally, the dying soldier’s chest began to heave with effort. The movement grew more violent. It was as if an animal inside him were kicking and tumbling furiously to get free.

This spectacle of gradual strangulation made the youth writhe, and once as his friend rolled his eyes, he saw something in them that made him sink wailing to the ground. He raised his voice in a last supreme call.

Watching his friend slowly strangle made the youth writhe. Then, as his friend rolled his eyes, the youth saw something in them that made him sink to the ground, wailing. He raised his voice in one last desperate call.

“Jim—Jim—Jim—”

“Jim, Jim, Jim...”

The tall soldier opened his lips and spoke. He made a gesture. “Leave me be—don’t tech me—leave me be—”

The tall soldier opened his mouth and spoke. He made a gesture. “Leave me alone. Don’t touch me. Leave me alone.”

There was another silence while he waited.

There was another silence while he waited.

Suddenly his form stiffened and straightened. Then it was shaken by a prolonged ague. He stared into space. To the two watchers there was a curious and profound dignity in the firm lines of his awful face.

Suddenly, his body stiffened and straightened. Then he trembled for a long time. He stared into space. To the two people watching, the firm lines of his horrifying face held a strange and profound dignity.

He was invaded by a creeping strangeness that slowly enveloped him. For a moment the tremor of his legs caused him to dance a sort of hideous hornpipe. His arms beat wildly about his head in expression of implike enthusiasm.

A strange feeling crept over him, slowly taking hold. For a moment, his legs trembled, making him dance a hideous jig. His arms flailed wildly around his head with devilish enthusiasm.

His tall figure stretched itself to its full height. There was a slight rending sound. Then it began to swing forward, slow and straight, in the manner of a falling tree. A swift muscular contortion made the left shoulder strike the ground first.

His tall body stretched to its full height. There was a faint tearing sound. Then his body began to fall forward, slowly and straight, like a falling tree. His muscles twisted suddenly, making his left shoulder hit the ground first.

The body seemed to bounce a little way from the earth. “God!” said the tattered soldier.

The body seemed to bounce a little off the ground. “God!” said the tattered soldier.

The youth had watched, spellbound, this ceremony at the place of meeting. His face had been twisted into an expression of every agony he had imagined for his friend.

The young man had watched this ceremony at the meeting place, spellbound. His face had twisted with every agony he had imagined his friend suffering.

He now sprang to his feet and, going closer, gazed upon the pastelike face. The mouth was open and the teeth showed in a laugh.

He jumped to his feet, moved closer, and stared at the pale, pasty face. The mouth was open, with the teeth showing in a laugh.

As the flap of the blue jacket fell away from the body, he could see that the side looked as if it had been chewed by wolves.

As the blue jacket fell open, he could see that the side of the body looked as if wolves had chewed it.

The youth turned, with sudden, livid rage, toward the battlefield. He shook his fist. He seemed about to deliver a philippic.

The young man turned toward the battlefield, suddenly furious. He shook his fist. He seemed ready to launch into an angry speech.

“Hell—”

“Hell...”

The red sun was pasted in the sky like a wafer.

The red sun looked like a wafer pasted onto the sky.