Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1893-03-29
On the Field Of Death.
Translated II ON the French of George
lie Fdure.
BY ISABEL sNuTHsoN.

The battle had begun at daybreak.
The firing of guns and roar of cannons
had deufened the echo for ten leagues
arouud, and over the battlefield there
now hung "A thick veil which the suns
bright rays could hardly penetrate.
Blood flowed in rivers, watering the
ground with a horrible dew, and on
every side we've seen cOrpses. Mutil-
ated crushed, maugie forms and faces
which in desth retained the same ex-
preston Of fierce hatred that they had
worn IN life.
For several hours Russians and
Turks had disputed the ground, the
former attacking, and the latter de-
Tending the position, but at last, the
Russian battalions and squadrons mad
weakened, and the Cars flag had re-
treated before the standard OF the
Sultan.
Now, every thing was qniet; the
terrible noise OF grape-shOt was sue
ceeded by profound silence, and little
by little, the black clouds of smoke
which envelOped the country like
winding sheet, tore themselves apart
and went floating to ards the horizon.
around, and the dead, with upturned
faces, slept the eternal sleep under the
fierce rays OF the sun. Every few
minutes, Il cry of agony would rise, or
q low moaning sound be heard; 1t was
a wounded man calling on death, or
dying one greeting 1t.
The next instant, the silence of this
immense tomb would be broken by
the sound of low sad song, from the
Il rOat of bird III the woods near by,
mourning the loss ofits brood which had
been destroyed IN the nest by gun
hot. There was something plaiutive
in tie wall of that innocent victim of
human hate.
1t was uOOn-dny: the hour at which
the earth slumbers beneath the sun
rays, and tie silent meadows seemed
10 be smiling at the blue sky, and
awaiting tie arrival OF the fIrmer
with his plough. There was not
breath of wind stirring. not even the
fight of crows, those dread murauiers
of the battlefield, was heard.
Suddenly two shadOwy forms might be
seen coming slowly from the direction
of the Russion camp, stepping over
the cOrpses and slipping on the bloody
ground. One of these wore a dalmatic,
with silver embroidery which glittered IN
the sunlight; be carried golden
censor from which arose the smoke of
incense; his head was bare, his eyes
dOwncast, and his lips moving as II IN
prayer. This was Russian priest.
Behind him walked soldier, carry
ing book aud silver cross
AS the two men stepped between the
bloody furrOws of the human harvest,
the priest V as filed with pity, but the
soldiers face was stOlid-looking.
Now the priest stopped and looked
around as if overwhelmed by the terri
ble sight which presented itself on
every side, and the soldier, silent and
with lips compr essed piled up some
knapsacks to form Il sort of altar, on
which he laid the book and silver
cross.
Then he removed his hat, snd the
priest, stretching out his arms as ii to
include all the dead and dying in his
benediction, began the office for the
dead. He pronounced the words as
calmly as if he were III the Cathedral
of st. Petersburg, bat there was tone
of sorrow in his voice. for all these IN
fortunates were brothers.
The soldier made responses to the
prayers.
While the priest prayed. the wounded
men, even the dying ones seemed to
gather new strength to fight against
Death, and family, but with reverence,
Joined IN the responses. The wounded
MussuImen were amazed at the vener-
able figure standing there distinctly
outlined against the deep blue of the
sky, and as they listened, thev under
stood vaguely that this Christian was
praying for them; and as they called
on Allah, they thought of the Chris
tiRns' God, who was so great and cen
erous as to open his Paradise to his
enemies.
The priest swung the censor, and
turning to tine four quarters of the
heaven.
Suddenly he stopped and stood
mOtionless with his eyes fixed upon
the horizon. He had been asking of
God the reason Why the Christian Rus
SLAMS had not been allowed to triumph
over the followers of Mahomet, aud he
had received the answer.
The Battlefield was transformed, and
to the eyes of the Russian priest there
seemed to be In its place a devastated
land with harvests destroyed, villages
burned, women and children slang ghter
ed iu the streets
He groaned aloud, fell upon his
knees, and lifting his arms towards
Heaven, cried: "Poland! Polandi Oh,
God, hast thou not yet forgiven