Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1896-04-01

looking at something white, covered
with blood. 1t was a pretty little dog,
which had been killed by the framway..
A man came and carried it away.
Will they carry me away too? Or
shall remain here to die? How sweet
life seems to mel When saw the little
dog that day, I had felt happy. Re-
membrance, why do you torture me:
The past happiness; the present misery.
Homesickness, thou art worse than all
the wounds!
1t is growing warm, the sun is burn
ing. open my eyes and see tho same
bushes, the same sky, but in broad day
light. And there is my neighbor. Yes,
it is a dead Turk. What giant! re-
member him. he is the same killed.
Why did I kill him? Why did he come
here? Who is he? Like myself, he may
have an old mother looking out for him
And I? And I also. Yes, I should like
to change with him. He does not hear;
he does not feel the pain in his-wounds,
anguish or thirst. The bayonet pierced
his heart right through.
There is a great black hole in his
not want to do it. did not wish to
harm anybody when I went to the war.
did not expect to kill people. had
thought more of exposing my own
breast to the enemy's balls. And then?
Fool fool! And this wretched fellah
Che wears the Egyptian uniformly, his
fault it was still less. He had never
heard of Russia On Bulgaria. He was
told to go, and he went. We attacked,
he defended himself Where is his fault,
and why did I kill him? Why does
thirst torture me? Who knows what
that means? Even when we marched
through Roumelia. under a glaring
tropical sun, I did not feel the thirst as
feel it now. Oh, if some one would
but conel
Good heavens In his great flask
there may still be some water, but how
to reach it? 1t will cost me agonies,
but must try. l begin to crawl. My
: feet drag. My weakened hands are hard
ly able to movo the lifeless body. There
are but few steps to the dead body,
but for me tho distance seems endless.
must My throat is parched and burns
like fire. I should die soon without
water, but I 60 en-. Every movement
is agony. I SCI oam-I scream with sobs.
AT last 1 reach the flask There is wa
ter enough to last me until die He
whom I have killed saves me now.
try to open the flask, but the effort is
too great. / lose balance and fall right
On tho body of the dead Turk. I could
smell the odor of decay. took long
draft The water was warm, but fresh,
and would last me several days. I had
read somewhere that man could live
week without food if he lad water.
What if I lived several days longer?
Our men are gone, the Bulgarians dis
persed. There are no roads. Die must.
but instead of three days. suffering
shall suffer week. Perhaps it would
be better to end directly. Near my
neighbor lies Lis gun. I have but to
stretch out my arm. One moment and
all is finished. Shall I3do it, or shall I
wait? Delivera1ce or death? No, shall
have courage. shall struggle Oh to the
last. If they find me, am saved. Per
haps my bones are not touched, and then
they will cure me. shall once more see
my home, mother and Mary.
o Lord, never let them know the
truth Let them think that was killed
at once.
I am beginning to feel dizzy. My
visit to my neighbor. has entirely e1-
hausted me- lie is growing black and
beginning to decay. What will become
Of him later? can hardly bear the odor,
and am not able to move. The sun
scorches my face and my hands. Moth
ing to cover NE. If night would but
come! This will be the second, think.
My thoughts are growing confused.
I must have slept long, for when
awoke it was night. My condition is the
same. My wounds hurt My neighbor.
huge and lifeless, is still there.
cannot help thinking of him. Is it
possible that I have left all that is dear
and precious to me, that have come
thousands Of versts, have starved and
frozen and been tormented by heat and
thirst and an now lying here in agony
only in order to kill this miserable Turk?
Did accomplish anything else besides
this murder?
Murder--murderer And who? /!
When longed to join the army, my
mother and sister did not keep me back,
although they Srieved deeply. I was
sorry fer them, but, blinded, I refused
to see their tears. I did not understand
how much I hurt them. Now do.
If I could but bring back the past!
How strange my conduct seemed to our
friends.
''Madman, you do not know what you
are doingI' they had said. How could
they talk like this when our country
was in question? Where was the love
and patriotism thsy were constantly ex-
tolling? When aimed at all these laud-
ed virtues, why did they call me mad
man? / went with thousands OF others,
some OF them like myself, as volunteers.
A sharp morning wind stirring the
bushes reminds me that this is my third
day of suffering. The third! How many
more? I am too weak to move away
from the dead body. We shall soon be
equals. I am thirsty. I shall drink three
times day, morning, noon and night.
The sun has risen. It's great olrcis,
crossed and divided by the boughs OF
the hawthorn, is red as blood. 1t will
surely be warm today. My nelghbor-
what will become Of him? He is terrible
now. His hair is beginning to fall OIL
his dark. Egyptian skin has become yel-
low; his face has swollen to such an ex-
tent that it has burst on one side, ana
the worms are covering it. What Will
the sun do with him today? To-lie near
him is impossible must move fartn-
er, however shall have to suffer for IT,
But how? am able to extend my hand
and open the flask, but to move my
heavy, immovable body! must, II IL
should take me hours to make step.
The whole morning passes IN the e!-
fort. The pain is terrible, but what is
that to me? I have forgotten how 1t IS
to feel we'll. have succeeded III reach
ing the old place. but even here nave
the terrible odor Of the decaying BODY
carried to and fro by the wind. 1t makes
me- sick. Nv empty stomach is SHRINK