Chapter 7

The youth cringed as if discovered in a crime. By heavens, they had won after all! The imbecile line had remained and become victors. He could hear cheering.

The young man cringed as if he had been caught committing a crime. Good heavens, they had won after all! The foolish line had held its ground and won. He could hear cheering.

He lifted himself upon his toes and looked in the direction of the fight. A yellow fog lay wallowing on the treetops. From beneath it came the clatter of musketry. Hoarse cries told of an advance.

He rose on his toes and looked toward the fighting. A yellow fog churned over the treetops. Muskets rattled beneath the fog. Hoarse cries signaled an advance.

He turned away amazed and angry. He felt that he had been wronged.

He turned away, amazed and angry. He felt that he had been treated unfairly.

He had fled, he told himself, because annihilation approached. He had done a good part in saving himself, who was a little piece of the army. He had considered the time, he said, to be one in which it was the duty of every little piece to rescue itself if possible. Later the officers could fit the little pieces together again, and make a battle front. If none of the little pieces were wise enough to save themselves from the flurry of death at such a time, why, then, where would be the army? It was all plain that he had proceeded according to very correct and commendable rules. His actions had been sagacious things. They had been full of strategy. They were the work of a master’s legs.

He had run away, he told himself, because destruction was coming. He had done his part by saving himself, one small piece of the army. At such a time, he said, every little piece had a duty to save itself if possible. Later, the officers could put the little pieces back together and form a battle line. If none of the little pieces were wise enough to escape the rush of death, where would the army be? Clearly, he had followed entirely proper and admirable rules. His actions had been wise. They had been full of strategy. They were the work of a master’s legs.

Thoughts of his comrades came to him. The brittle blue line had withstood the blows and won. He grew bitter over it. It seemed that the blind ignorance and stupidity of those little pieces had betrayed him. He had been overturned and crushed by their lack of sense in holding the position, when intelligent deliberation would have convinced them that it was impossible. He, the enlightened man who looks afar in the dark, had fled because of his superior perceptions and knowledge. He felt a great anger against his comrades. He knew it could be proved that they had been fools.

He thought of his comrades. The fragile blue line had held against the attacks and won. He grew bitter about their victory. It seemed that the blind ignorance and stupidity of those little figures had betrayed him. Their foolishness in holding the position had overwhelmed and crushed him. If they had thought carefully, they would have seen that holding it was impossible. He was the enlightened man who could see far into the darkness. He had fled because of his superior insight and knowledge. He felt great anger toward his comrades. He knew he could prove they had been fools.

He wondered what they would remark when later he appeared in camp. His mind heard howls of derision. Their density would not enable them to understand his sharper point of view.

He wondered what they would say when he returned to camp. In his mind, he heard them howling with laughter at him. They were too dense to understand his sharper point of view.

He began to pity himself acutely. He was ill used. He was trodden beneath the feet of an iron injustice. He had proceeded with wisdom and from the most righteous motives under heaven’s blue only to be frustrated by hateful circumstances.

He began to feel intense pity for himself. He had been treated badly. He was trampled under the feet of an iron injustice. He had acted wisely and with the most righteous motives under heaven’s blue sky. Yet hateful circumstances had thwarted him.

A dull, animal-like rebellion against his fellows, war in the abstract, and fate grew within him. He shambled along with bowed head, his brain in a tumult of agony and despair. When he looked loweringly up, quivering at each sound, his eyes had the expression of those of a criminal who thinks his guilt little and his punishment great, and knows that he can find no words.

A dull, animal-like revolt grew within him against his companions, war itself, and fate. He shuffled along with his head bowed, his mind in turmoil with agony and despair. When he looked up with a sullen glare, he trembled at every sound. His eyes looked like those of a criminal who thinks his guilt is small and his punishment great. He knew he could find no words.

He went from the fields into a thick woods, as if resolved to bury himself. He wished to get out of hearing of the crackling shots which were to him like voices.

He left the fields and went into thick woods, as if determined to bury himself. He wanted to get out of hearing of the crackling gunfire, which sounded like voices to him.

The ground was cluttered with vines and bushes, and the trees grew close and spread out like bouquets. He was obliged to force his way with much noise. The creepers, catching against his legs, cried out harshly as their sprays were torn from the barks of trees. The swishing saplings tried to make known his presence to the world. He could not conciliate the forest. As he made his way, it was always calling out protestations. When he separated embraces of trees and vines the disturbed foliages waved their arms and turned their face leaves toward him. He dreaded lest these noisy motions and cries should bring men to look at him. So he went far, seeking dark and intricate places.

Vines and bushes covered the ground, and the trees grew close together, spreading out like bouquets. He had to force his way through, making a great deal of noise. The vines caught on his legs and cried out harshly as their branches tore away from the tree bark. The swishing saplings seemed to announce his presence to the world. He could not make peace with the forest. As he pushed through, it kept calling out in protest. When he pulled apart the trees and vines wrapped around each other, the disturbed leaves waved their arms and turned their faces toward him. He feared that these noisy movements and cries would bring men to look at him. So he went farther, seeking dark, tangled places.

After a time the sound of musketry grew faint and the cannon boomed in the distance. The sun, suddenly apparent, blazed among the trees. The insects were making rhythmical noises. They seemed to be grinding their teeth in unison. A woodpecker stuck his impudent head around the side of a tree. A bird flew on lighthearted wing.

After a while, the gunfire faded and the cannons boomed in the distance. The sun suddenly came into view, blazing among the trees. The insects made rhythmic noises. They sounded as if they were grinding their teeth together. A woodpecker poked its cheeky head around the side of a tree. A bird flew by on lighthearted wings.

Off was the rumble of death. It seemed now that Nature had no ears.

The rumble of death sounded in the distance. It seemed now that Nature had no ears.

This landscape gave him assurance. A fair field holding life. It was the religion of peace. It would die if its timid eyes were compelled to see blood. He conceived Nature to be a woman with a deep aversion to tragedy.

The landscape reassured him. A beautiful field full of life. It was the religion of peace. It would die if its timid eyes were forced to see blood. He imagined Nature as a woman who deeply hated tragedy.

He threw a pine cone at a jovial squirrel, and he ran with chattering fear. High in a treetop he stopped, and, poking his head cautiously from behind a branch, looked down with an air of trepidation.

He threw a pine cone at a cheerful squirrel, and the squirrel ran away, chattering in fear. High in a treetop, the squirrel stopped. It cautiously peeked out from behind a branch and looked down fearfully.

The youth felt triumphant at this exhibition. There was the law, he said. Nature had given him a sign. The squirrel, immediately upon recognizing danger, had taken to his legs without ado. He did not stand stolidly baring his furry belly to the missile, and die with an upward glance at the sympathetic heavens. On the contrary, he had fled as fast as his legs could carry him; and he was but an ordinary squirrel, too—doubtless no philosopher of his race. The youth wended, feeling that Nature was of his mind. She re-enforced his argument with proofs that lived where the sun shone.

The young man felt triumphant at what he had seen. There was the law, he told himself. Nature had given him a sign. As soon as the squirrel recognized danger, it ran off without hesitation. It did not stand there stubbornly, baring its furry belly to the missile. It did not die looking up at the sympathetic heavens. On the contrary, it had fled as fast as its legs could carry it. And it was only an ordinary squirrel, too, surely no philosopher among its kind. The young man went on his way, feeling that Nature agreed with him. She had supported his argument with living proof found out in the sunshine.

Once he found himself almost into a swamp. He was obliged to walk upon bog tufts and watch his feet to keep from the oily mire. Pausing at one time to look about him he saw, out at some black water, a small animal pounce in and emerge directly with a gleaming fish.

Once he found himself nearly in a swamp. He had to walk on clumps of grass and watch his feet to stay out of the oily mud. He paused to look around and saw a small animal dive into some black water. It immediately emerged with a gleaming fish.

The youth went again into the deep thickets. The brushed branches made a noise that drowned the sounds of cannon. He walked on, going from obscurity into promises of a greater obscurity.

The young man went back into the dense thickets. The branches brushed against him, making enough noise to drown out the cannon. He walked on, leaving the darkness behind for the promise of even deeper darkness.

At length he reached a place where the high, arching boughs made a chapel. He softly pushed the green doors aside and entered. Pine needles were a gentle brown carpet. There was a religious half light.

At last, he reached a place where high, arching branches formed a chapel. He gently pushed the green doors aside and entered. Pine needles made a soft brown carpet. The dim light felt sacred.

Near the threshold he stopped, horror-stricken at the sight of a thing.

Near the entrance, he stopped, horrified by the sight of something.

He was being looked at by a dead man who was seated with his back against a columnlike tree. The corpse was dressed in a uniform that had once been blue, but was now faded to a melancholy shade of green. The eyes, staring at the youth, had changed to the dull hue to be seen on the side of a dead fish. The mouth was open. Its red had changed to an appalling yellow. Over the gray skin of the face ran little ants. One was trundling some sort of bundle along the upper lip.

A dead man sat with his back against a tree shaped like a column. He seemed to be looking at the youth. The corpse wore a uniform that had once been blue but had faded to a gloomy shade of green. Its eyes stared at the youth, dull like the side of a dead fish. Its mouth was open. The red of its mouth had turned a horrifying yellow. Little ants crawled over the gray skin of its face. One ant was carrying some kind of bundle along its upper lip.

The youth gave a shriek as he confronted the thing. He was for moments turned to stone before it. He remained staring into the liquid-looking eyes. The dead man and the living man exchanged a long look. Then the youth cautiously put one hand behind him and brought it against a tree. Leaning upon this he retreated, step by step, with his face still toward the thing. He feared that if he turned his back the body might spring up and stealthily pursue him.

The young man screamed when he came upon the thing. For a few moments, he stood frozen before it. He stared into its liquid-looking eyes. The dead man and the living man exchanged a long look. Then the young man cautiously reached behind him and put a hand against a tree. Leaning on the tree, he backed away step by step, still facing the thing. He feared that if he turned his back, the body might spring up and silently follow him.

The branches, pushing against him, threatened to throw him over upon it. His unguided feet, too, caught aggravatingly in brambles; and with it all he received a subtle suggestion to touch the corpse. As he thought of his hand upon it he shuddered profoundly.

The branches pushed against him, threatening to knock him onto the corpse. His feet wandered and caught in the brambles, adding to his frustration. Amid all this, he felt a subtle urge to touch the corpse. He shuddered deeply at the thought of putting his hand on it.

At last he burst the bonds which had fastened him to the spot and fled, unheeding the underbrush. He was pursued by the sight of black ants swarming greedily upon the gray face and venturing horribly near to the eyes.

At last, he broke free from whatever held him in place and ran, paying no attention to the underbrush. The sight pursued him: black ants swarming greedily over the gray face, crawling horribly close to the eyes.

After a time he paused, and, breathless and panting, listened. He imagined some strange voice would come from the dead throat and squawk after him in horrible menaces.

After a while, he stopped and listened, breathless and panting. He imagined that a strange voice would squawk horrible threats after him from the dead throat.

The trees about the portal of the chapel moved soughingly in a soft wind. A sad silence was upon the little guarding edifice.

The trees around the chapel entrance rustled in a soft wind. A sad silence hung over the little building standing guard.