Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1893-1920, 1901-11-05
THE DAILY
SHORT STORY.
Three Ravens
eY AIphonse Daudet.


His hands are black with powder and
his clothes are pierced with bullet
holes. lie was in the very heart of the
battle. under full fire, and his COM
rades. seeing him fall. believe him tn
he dead. But he still lives. He calls
with all his remaining strength, but the
only response is means and the Surgle
of the death rattle. At last, numb with
cold and pain, exhausted 10y the wills
thing Of grape and canister. the Hash
ing OF cannons aud all the scenes of
bloody contest, and overcome 10y the
deep quiet OF nature, he is OH the point
Of giving up aud abandoning himself To
sleep or To death.
Suddenly Oh the faron horizon he
sees through his half open eyes three
black Specks come out of the north and
gradually grow larger as they APP
proach. They have wings-dark wings
that bear them on. Soon they stop
above his head, and lie sees three IA
vens suspended in the white air, motion
less with tranquility of beasts of prey
on the lookout for victims. while the
atmosphere is yet Vibrating from the
shock of battle. The almost imper-'
"ceptible beating OF the great wings as
the birds poise in midair seems like the
fiuttering of three flags of war. each
one bearing as its emblem a lowering
gaven.
Have they come for me-" he asked
himself. faint with terror.
He shudderS as lie watches the three
ravens descend slowly and perch on
hillock but 4 short distance from him.
They are indeed great birdS-fat glossy
ana well fell. Not Il feather is missing
from their sleek plumagc. Moreover,
these birds live in the very midst OF
carnage. They not only live i'm it, but
they even thrive OH il and look on from
afar-froIn great heights beyond the
reach OF misunderstanding only when
the regiments are gone and the dead
and dying meet Oh the same dreadful
plane.
In truth. these birds have an air OF
importance. They salute one another
with their beaks. they march To and
fro. as If on dress parade. leaving the
prints OF their pointed claws on the
redeemed SNOW. Then. when they have
acted the part OF tops to perfection,
they begin to croak softly, very softly,
=
ing man
Cousins says one OF them. Il have
brought you hithcr for that little sol
dier of France who is lying there be-
fore you. lie was proud little soldier,
animated by unusual courage. but pos
sessing neither prudence nor reflection
See ms riddIed coat and consider how
many balls were necessary To bring
L., los 2 iC .tn
IL you are willing. we will partake. But
we must wait yet little before we go
TO him Though his arms are bruised
and his hands seem pOwerless. he
would be an object To be feared if ne
I should revive"
/ The speaker is the largest Of the
party. The two others. as they listen,
( keep out of the reach of his ferocious,
hooked beak. He continues:
"Ah, we shall soon partake! 1 will
eat his heart. 1t was II warm. valiant
heart and will rejuvenate mine"
] Does the little soldier hear what they
arc saying? Is it true, then, that his
1 heart no longer beats?
The second raven takes up the sen
tence:
II will eat his eyes. French eyes are
/ large and clear and beaning with life"
! Quick, open. your eyes. little soldier.
/ and cry out loudly. Though you are
weak from loss of blood, little still re-
mains in your veins.
I Alas! Truly do they say that he is
dead, and when, their conference ended,
( the three birds approach him with evil
eye and ravenous beak and dropping
wings not a CULVER passes through his
| body. Poor little soldier of Francei
They are going to dismember him.
They will begin with the buttons on
his coat. for these birds of plumber
gather up everything that glistens-
even blood. Softly the three birds draw
near, and the oldest of them ventures 4
peck at his finger. Then the soldier
rouses; his whole frame starts.
He is not deadl He is not dead!
cry the cowardly birds, retreating to
their hillock.
All, no, The little soldier OF France
/ Is not dead. He raises his head. In
dignation has brought back something
of the old spirit. His eyes grow bright
his nostrils dilate. The air seems less
heavy and he breathes more freely. \
ray of the pale red winter sun creeps
across the torn and furrowed earth. As
he gaZes in admiration at the mel
ancholy sunset. gradually fading into
the glimmer OF twilight, suddenly, I'M
der the warmth of his extended hand,
the slow melting snow exposes a green
point-a tiny blade of wheat.
Miracle of iifeI The dying man feels
as if lie were born again. Resting his
hands on the soil of his fatherland, he
tries to sit up. From afar the three
birds watching him prepare for fight,
and when they see him standing up
right at last, searching with trem-
bling step for his abandoned arms. they
slowly rise from their hillock and soar
AWAY toward the north already dark