The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1929-09-02
CHAPTER xI Continued

CHAPTER XII (ConUlnueQJ
I make a jump. I catch hold OF
one and the next instant the sec
ond. Like a mailman I bash their
heads against the wall to stun them.
But I haven't quite enough weight
The beasts cackle and strike out
with their feet and wings. 1 fight
desperately, but Lord! what KICK
goose has! They struggle and l
stagger about. In the dark these
white patches are terrifying.
my arms have grown wings and
I'm almost afraid of going up into
the sky, as though I held couple
of captive balloons in my fists.
Then the row begins: one OF them
gets his breath and goes off like an
alarm clock. Before I can do any
thing, something comes in from out
side; feel blow, lie outStretched
on the floor, and hear awful growls.
A dog. I steal glance to the side,
he makes a snap at my throat. I
lie still and tuck my chin into my
collar.
It's a bull dog. After an eternity
he withdraws his head and sits
down beside me. But if I make the
least movement he growls. I con-
slider.
The only thing to do is to get
hold of my small revolver, and that,
too, before any one arrives. Inch
by inch I move my hand toward it..
I have the feeling that it lasts
an hour. The slightest movement
and then an awful growl; lie still,
then try again. When at last I have
the revolver my hand starts to
tremble. I press it against the
ground and then say over to my
self; Jerk the revolver up, fire be-
fore he has chance to grab, and
then jump up.
Slowly I take a deep breath and
become calmer. Then I hold my
breath, whip up the revolver, it
cracks, the dog leaps bowling to
one side, I make for the door of the
shed and fall head over heels over
one Of the damned geese.
At full speed seize it again, and
with a swing, toss it over the wall
and Chamber up. No sooner am I
on top than the dog is up again as
lively as ever and springs at me.
Quickly I let myself drop. Ten
PAGES away stands Kat, with the
goose under his arm. AS soon as he
sees me we run.
At last we can take a breather.
The goose is dead, Kat saw to that
in moment. We intend to roast
it, without telling anybody. I fetch
stove and wood from the hut and
we crawl into small deserted lean
to which we use for such purposes.
The single window space is heavi-
Iy curtained. There is a sort of
hearth, an iron plate set on some
bricks. We kindle a fire.
Kat plucks and cleans the goose.
We put the feathers carefully to
one side. We intend to make two
cushions out of them with the in
scription: "Sleep soft under she'll
fire" The sound of the gun-fire
from the front penetrates into our
refuge.
The glow of the fire lights up our
faces, shadows dance on the wall.
Sometimes a heavy crash and the
hut Sllivers. Airplane bombs. Once
we hear a stif1ed cry. A hut must
have been hit.
Airplanes drone; the tack-tack of
machine guns breaks out. But no
light that could be observed shows
from us.
We sit opposite one another, Kat
and 1, two soldiers in shabby coats,
cooking a goose in the middle of the
night. We don't talk much, but I
believe we have a more complete
communion with one another than
even lovers have.
We are two men, two minute
sparks of life; outside is the night
and the circle of death. We sit on
the edge of it crouching in danger,
| the grease drips from our hands,
in our hearts we are close to one
another, and the hour is like the
room; fecked over with the lights
and shadows of our feelings cast by
a quiet fire.
What does he know of me or I