The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1925-08-21
The Command to
"Move On"
By MORGAN SHEPARD
tCopyright.)

= earthquake" and the after days of
flame and chaos had become memo
ries only In our turmoil Of untimed
work and feverish readjustment Bread
and canned goods were plentiful while
the embers of our city cooled. and
there was promise, too, for time for
rest. and time 20 gather our scattered
faculties-but still we hungered, our
canned and picked stomachs cried
out for fresh green stuff, and the
gnawing ache was worse than thirst
and more relentless.
Here and there a vicious Jet of fire
spurted upward with hiss of tri-
umph in searching out and finding
some hidden chaff to deal with as a
great city had been dealt with. Chaos
was subsiding and man had begun to
think again. Eyes glazed by terror
or dim with stupid resignation once
more carried low light of some rea-
soning thought.
The water front-that haven for the
distracted throngs of the fire days
gave up its covering and waiting
crews. Move on-move en-" had been
yelled from behind the bayonets
point. Little bands of aimless crea-
lures stumbled forth into the ruins
to start again, beyond or amid that
crushed and still smouldering city of
memory.
From my hill could see scores of
these plodding bands melt like sha-
dows into the lowering murk that
chung to the long stretches of gray
streets-named streets in irony surely.
All these shadows of men lent upon
some vague purpose were the fiotsam
and jetsam after a storm of fire and
a quaking earth. But to US who had
worked and sickened for the lack of
fresh green things the word orange"
was music and potato" was song. /
was hidden to find them or anything,
be it ever so green.
My path to the water front by way
of Vallejo street looked comparatively
cool and plain. 1t was no hard mat
ter to select, for all streets were as
clearly defined as if painted on red
map. Oakland lay bright and clean
across the bay. Surely our need might
be found for price in that oasis be-
yond the water!
Coming my way l saw mother,
with no man to guide and guard
Through reeking ashes there trudged
behind her four children, boy, per-
haps of twelve, and three girls, all
younger-one of them a silent little
fodder. Each wayfarer bore some
burden too great, but too precious to
abandon-potS, pans, besmudged bed
ding and the ever-familiar pillowcase,
stuffed with God knows what-ana
bread.
"Move on, move on" the military
had ordered. They We're moving on,
but action had no meaning The moth
er's lips were dry, fiabby and purpose
less CLEAN that distorted the heavy
eyelids She stared before her out
of those dull eyes and turned neither
to right nor left, her sordid little es-
cort of wordless offspring following
along after, her.
In that company there was a sixth.
Wrapped by a soiled red shawl to it's
mother was nursing babe, with face
buried deep in the bare breast of the
woman. One little arm. released from
bond, dangled in rhythm with the
mothers Flooding steps. saw that
the child was dead.
Mother" 1 said, in the language
of her people, "your baby-do you
know, mother-that-tha your baby
is dead?
She made no reply, there was no
exclamation. She stopped heavily. as
did all Of her followers-my word
might have been a military halt"
Her expression did not change a shade
from it's fixed despair, there was not
even a twitch of the Swallowed lips or
a tremor of the swollen eyelids Then
with awkward, ifumbling fingers she
undid the bonds that held her babe
to her; the child's head fell back in
ertly against the mothers soiled hand
and slowly she raised the little body
to her parched cheek as if to listen
for a heart beat; Tut she heard none,
for, turning to the dust and ashes
about her she stared forth vacantly as
she had before | had given my mes
sage Judging by that unmoved face
life might have been to her the same
as it was before she learned that death
reposed upon her bosom.
Near where she stood there flared
up one of those vicious spurts of
flame, dying reluctantly amid a tangle
of wreckage. Thrusting itself through
this mass was a mound of glowing
embers. Deliberately she stopped and
laid her babe upon that waiting pyre,
and leaned over it little time. Dust
to dust" | said in my heart
She spoke no word. there was no
cry, no tears came TO the dull eyes,
and her lips were unchanged. Then
she fell again into the weary trudg-
ing had interrupted. The drowsy,
smoke hung low along the broken
street up which the woman passed,
The sun shone red through veil that
rose over the funeral pyre of a city
and a babe, as a mother obeyed the
command Of God and the military to
r,,aya IN