Crying out he knew not
what, he leapt among them with clutched rifle, striking madly to right
and left. There was a roar of fright, and for a moment a space was
cleared around him. He fought like a maniac, stumbling with his crushed
foot and leaving two men stunned at his feet. But it was only for a
moment. A bayonet entered his side and his rifle snapped at the stock.
He grappled with the nearest man and pulled him to the ground, for he
could stand no longer. Then there came a wild surge around, a dozen
bayonets pierced him, and in the article of death he was conscious of a
great press which ground him into the earth. The next moment the column
was marching over his body.
Dawn came with light and sweet airs to the dark cleft in the hills.
Just at that moment, when the red east was breaking into spires and
clouds of colour, and the little morning winds were beginning to flutter
among the crags, two men were standing in the throat of the pass. The
ground about them was ploughed up as if by a battery, the rock seamed
and broken, and red stains of blood were on the dry gravel. From the
north, in the direction of the plain, came the confused sound of an army
in camp. But to the south there was a glimpse through an aperture of
hill of a far side of mountain, and on it a gleam as of fire.
Marka, clad in the uniform of a captain of Cossacks, looked fiercely at
his companion and then at the beacon.
Pages:
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367