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

menr VIII IL De better to end life IN the
hands of the Turks or here? But il they
should be our men? Oh, these bushes
Why are they so thick? can hardly see
through them! There is one little place
like window which enables me to see
in the distance. There seems to be the
little brook where we quenched our
thirst III the battle, and there is the big
stone which was our bridge across the
brook. They will surely come this way |!
My hearing has grown SO weak that 1
cannot distinguish the language which
they talk. Lord if they should be ours
] shall call out! They will hear me
from the brook. Why does it take them
SO long? Impatience tortures me. do
not even notice the odor, although it is
increasing, and suddenly Cossacks ap-
pear on the other side Of the brook. The
blue coats, with red stripes on the trou-
Eers, the lances, a whole battalion In
front, On a beautiful horse, the dark oi1i
Ger. As soon as they had reached the
brook he suddenly commanded:
"Turn-march!
"For heavens sake, stopl Help!
HelpP' scream, but the stamping Of
the boots and the general noise drown
ny rafting cries, and am not heard.
Oh, God In my helplessness fall with
my face to the ground and sob. From
the overturned flask flows the water
my life, my salvation from death. After
this ] lost consciousness, and must have
lain for many hours in this state, till at
last gust Of wind blowing the terrible
odor over me brought me to my senses.
I looked at my neighbor. He had changed
beyond expression. The first look at him
nearly frightened me to death. The flesh
had dropped off his face, and, although
I had often touched skull, l had never
yet seen anything that might have been
compared to that awful, hideous, bony
smile. began to shiver when looked
at the skeleton in the uniform with the
bright buttons. sThis is war;" I
thought; the representation of itP'
Once more the burning sun scorches
my face and hands and causes me to feel
thirsty. Not drop Of water is left in
the flask. Why did not scream louder?
The Cossacks might have heard me.
Even the Turks would be better than
these pangs Mother, darling mother
You would tear your hair if you knew!
You would curse those who instigated
the war to bring suffering over people
Goodby, mother, sister-all!
Once more the little white dog. Why
did come here? Tomorrow is the third
day. How many more? Death, where
art thou? Come and take me.
But death does not come. I have still
to live and to suffer. I am here under
the burning sun, without drop of wa
ter, and the ueaTness of the dead body
is poisoning me- The worms have near
ly finished him, and then they will be
ready for Inc. The day passes and the
night. The same thing. Another morn
ing and another night.
There is stir in the branches, and a
noise as if they were talking. "You
will die, die, dio!'' they whisper.
"Never sec again'' answer the bushes
from the other side.
.'E'rom hare yoa can see theml' says
loud voice near me.
oed1o anu gan OOAoOAOuSASoo oo
once. Through the bushes can see the
kind blue eyes Of Iakovlev, our corporal,
looking at me.
...Shovels!'' be cried. "Here are two
more. ours and theirs.
''No shovels! l don't need to be
buried am alive r' Iwant to call out,
but my throat is parched, and the closed
line oro 717,a !,10 fO 17tfp7 n cOurid
Heavens He is alive! Mr.. Ivanoff.'
Boys come here! Our young carine
(master) is alive. Quickly call the doc
tor p
Although one Of my legs had to be
operated upon, l have lived to tell and
write of the terrible days ! passed on
the field Of war.-Exchange.