The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1897-07-10

from Angoria. That is the blessing of
conscriptiVe army. You need never so far
for any tradesman you may be pleased TO
want.
Meanwhile they lit brushwood in hole.
ripped the rafters from convenient barn
the proprietor will miss them If he ever
comes back. but what would youE War IS
war, and soldiers must eat, and even cor
respondents-and we had a glorious fire.
We put the ends of the beams In the ire
till they got charred, then broke of the
charred ends and rammed the beams IN
again. When there was good zeal OF i've
wood we let the fire out. Asian slashed
up the lamb with his yataghan and propped
the pieces on crooked sticks over the en-
bers. Charley cut up the liver into little
bits, strung them on q string and roasted
them likewise. Asian preferred the lights,
which he dumped down frankly in the
ashes: Then. with jack knives and fingers,
we fell to and ate gloriously. 1t was burnt
outside and raw inside very tough ana very
greasy. But it was glorious. and in the
fierce quitting of animal needs the very
water for the moment seemed almost SAN
ltary. Then we wrapped ourselves up IN
our capotes and went 10 sleep on fresh-cqt
rye in the stable till the dawn crept bash
fully in through the broken roof. Who
said that war is not all glory?
But all evenings are not like that. For
example. there was the cold night in Neles-
tino station; no rye there, and nothing but
the nard gravel platform to sleep on.
There was the night at Volo-a bed to sleep
in certainly. but no bedclothes, and | had
a horse roll over my legs in the afternoon,
and the night was a sleepless alienation of
sweat ana SnlVeG ana dCneS ana MOSQUITOES
There was the next day with twenty-mile
gallop in Greek, Springless wagon over
Greek hghroad l sat and lay and stood
and knelt but / could not get away from
the agonizing jolts without getting out of
the carriage. 1t the worst hardship
of the whole war; but after all that was
my own fault. What business had | to let
my horse get himself lost while l was
lunching?
But last night was not my fault Why
must his Excellence choose to make his
headquarters in out-of-the-way hill by
q deSolate. ruined convent called TekeS?
Why, as | followed him. must inky rain
clouds beat up from over Meluna to bring
on nightfall an hour too soon. and swallow
up the baggage from sight of me and of
the headquarters? Why must the clouds
Immediately thereupon dissolve into
streams of logged rain? Who was to have
foreSeen a December night i'm the middle OF
the dog-day part of Thessalian May? There
is corn fit to cut even now. if there was
anybody to cut it; why should winter dip
down over ii so suddenly?
There tent, to be sure. In theory,
| own. no man need wish for more than
a tent, even when its door will not shut,
and its canvas lets in water. | know that
thousands of Turkish soldiers spent an un-
complainable night without a tent. many
without an oVercOat, and some without the
egg and bit of cheese, the cigarette. and
liqueur glass of resnous red wine that
had In theory the war correspondent
wraps his shaggy coat round him and
sleeps peacefully. In practice he hasn't got
a shaggy coat; at least | hadn't last night
only a waterproof overcoat between my
self and friend. and that had to go on the
dank ground. In the old story the Highland
chief kicked away the lump of snow which
his soft son was using for a pillow. In
this new story, if anybody had kicked away
my revolver, which was my simple cushion,
/ would have shot him with it. Moreover,
the war correspondent of romance never
buys a pasteboard box of vasene because
the skin is peeling off his nose and if he
did the box would never telescope in his
pocket while he was asleep. and let out
the vaseline over his long-cold pipe and
his long-stopped watch. and his last two
matches. All trifles, of course. Hunger
and thirst, cold and wet, dirt and sticki-
ness. pain and sleeplessness-they are none
of them any real hardship. Blu! taking
them all together they are as near an APP
proach to it as | can comfortably do with.