New Ulm weekly review. [volume] (New Ulm, Minn.) 1878-1892, 1889-01-23

steps distance Here and there the
light is reflected upon it. This is
either a dead or q Wounded body, AL.
the same Eli lie down.
No, it cannot be! Ours have not
gone away They are here; they
have defeated the Turks and remain
in this position. Why, then, do /
not hear them talk? Neither the
cracking of the campfire, They are
here!
Help! help! help!'
Wild, hoarse, senseless, lamenta-
tions escape from my lips. There is
no response, only my wailing disturbs
the calm of the night, and the cricket
is heard chirping. The moon gazes
upon me pityingly.
Were he wounded he would no
doubt be awakened by my noise, He
is a corpse. Is it one of ours, or a
Turk? My God! as if it would make
any difference! Sleep again lights on
my infamed eyes.
I lie with my eyes tightly closed,
though have awakened long ago. /
do not want to open them, because I
feel the sun shine thro ugh my eyelids.
lit is better by all means not tomove.
observation-disclosures it was yesterday
Il was wounded; one day has
passed, another will pass and 1 shall
die. No matter. It's better not
ito move. Let my body remain
motionless. How glad 1 would be if
| were able to arrest the function of
my brain, but that cannot be
stopped. Thoughts and memories
are crowding into my head. But
this will not last long; the end isl near.
In the newspaper the statement will
appear: ssOur loss is insignificant.
So many wounded; killed, one volun-
teer, lvonov." No, mot even my
name will appear; the report will
read, Gone killed" merely one sol
der killed, like thatilittle, dog.
My imagination carries me back
to a day long gone'by. Twas walk
ing in the street; a crowd was in my
way. The crowd was idly looking at
a white bleeding object, which was
whining pitifully. 1t was a beauti-
full little dog that had CHANGED to fall
under the wheels Eof horse car.
1t was dying, like [ am
dying now. Somebody pushed him,
self through the crowd, seized it by
the neck and carried it away. The
crowd dispersed. VIII somebody
carry me away? No; | am doomed
to lie here and die! o, how beautiful
is life. On that day when I saw the
dog | Was happy: | was drunk with
happiness, and ]; had reasonfo for being
SO.
The sun burns. / open my eyes
and see the shrubs, the same sky, IL
lumined blythe same sun land therei is
my neighbor. Yes, it is a Turk, a
corpse. How5big! l recognize him; it
is the same.
Before ne lies q man killed by nv
own hand. Why have | killed him?
Why has fate brought him hither?
Who is he? Maybe he, like myself,
has an aged mother. Years
after years she will sit at
the doer sof her poor hut and
look to the far North, awaiting the
return other darling boy. And I? I
also. I would gladly change places
with hin1. How happy is he! He
hears nothing, feels neither narrowing
pain deadly anxiety OF unquencha-
bic thirst. The bayonet pierced right
through his heart. There, on his
uniform, is a black hole; around it is
his blood. Ibid that.
| did notsintend to do it; I did not
want to do any harm to anybody
when [ wentto fight. The thought
that | would :have to kill men did
not enter my mind. went with the
intention ofibearing my breast out
to the bullets softhe enemy. [ went
/ and held it out.
And now, fool! fool! This fellah
|. Che wears an Egyptian uniformly is
less to be blamed than you. Before
the Egyptians wera packed like her
rings in the steamer that brought
them to Constantinople, he never
heard of Russia or Bulgaria. He was
bid to go, and hewent. Had he re-
fused to comply, he would have been
numerically beaten and tortured.
and, perhaps, some madpasha would
have emptied his revolver into him.
He went along, and away from STAN
tboul to Rustchuk. Wefattacked, he
defended himself. Seeing that we
terrible men were NOT afraid of his
Peabody and Martina patent car
,bines, and are moving forward, he
became terrified when he wanted to
retreat. Some pigmy whom he could
have killed with one stroke of his
dark fist came and pierced his heart
Through. Was it any fault of his?
Was I wrong in kill
ing him? What is my
guilt? Why does thirst torment me?
Thirst! Who knows the full Ineaning
OF that word? Oh! would to heaven
some one may come.
In that bottle of his there must be
some water; but | must get to him.
What pain it will cost me. Still I
viii try.