战争与和平(上)-第369章

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Chapter　8
ONE　would　naturally　have　expected　that　in　the　almost　inconceivably　wretched　conditions　in　which　the　Russian　soldiers　were　placed　at　that　time—without　thick　boots；　without　fur　coats；　without　a　roof　over　their　heads　in　the　snow；　with　a　frost　of　eighteen　degrees；　often　without　full　rations—they　must　have　presented　a　most　melancholy　and　depressing　spectacle。
It　was　quite　the　opposite。　Never　under　the　most　favourable　material　conditions　had　the　army　worn　a　livelier　and　more　cheerful　aspect。　This　was　due　to　the　fact　that　every　element　that　showed　signs　of　depression　or　weakness　was　sifted　every　day　out　of　the　army。　All　the　physically　and　morally　weak　had　long　ago　been　left　behind。　What　was　left　was　the　pick　of　the　army—in　strength　of　body　and　of　spirit。
The　camp…fire　of　the　eighth　company；　screened　by　their　wattle　fence；　attracted　a　greater　crowd　than　any。　Two　sergeants　were　sitting　by　it；　and　the　fire　was　blazing　more　brightly　than　any　of　them。　They　insisted　on　logs　being　brought　in　return　for　the　right　of　sitting　under　the　screen。
“Hi；　Makyev；　hullo　…　are　you　lost；　or　have　the　wolves　eaten　you？　Fetch　some　wood；”　shouted　a　red…faced；　red…haired　soldier；　screwing　up　his　eyes；　and　blinking　from　the　smoke；　but　not　moving　back　from　the　fire。
“You　run；　Crow；　and　fetch　some　wood；”　he　cried；　addressing　another　soldier。　The　red…headed　man　was　not　a　non…commissioned　officer；　nor　a　corporal；　but　he　was　a　sturdy　fellow；　and　so　he　gave　orders　to　those　who　were　weaker　than　himself。　A　thin；　little　soldier；　with　a　sharp　nose；　who　was　called　the　“Crow；”　got　up　submissively；　and　was　about　to　obey；　but　at　that　moment　there　stepped　into　the　light　of　the　fire　the　slender；　hand…some　figure　of　a　young　soldier；　carrying　a　load　of　wood。
“Give　it　here。　Well；　that’s　something　like！”
They　broke　up　the　wood　and　threw　it　on；　blew　up　the　fire　with　their　mouths；　and　fanned　it　with　the　skirts　of　their　coats；　and　the　flame　began　to　hiss　and　crackle。　The　soldiers　drew　nearer　the　fire　and　lighted　their　pipes。　The　handsome　young　soldier　who　had　brought　in　the　wood　put　his　arms　akimbo；　and　began　a　smart　and　nimble　shuffle　with　his　frozen　feet　as　he　stood。
“Ah；　mother　dear；　the　dew　is　cold；　but　yet　it　is　fine；　and　a　musketeer！”　…　he　began　singing；　with　a　sort　of　hiccup　at　each　syllable　of　the　song。
“Hey；　his　soles　are　flying　off！”　cried　the　red…haired　man；　noticing　that　the　dancer’s　soles　were　loose。　“He’s　a　rare　devil　for　dancing！”
The　dancer　stopped；　tore　off　the　loose　leather；　and　flung　it　in　the　fire。
“You’re　right　there；　brother；”　said　he；　and　sitting　down　he　took　out　of　his　knapsack　a　strip　of　French　blue　cloth；　and　began　binding　it　round　his　foot。　“It’s　the　steam　that　warps　them；”　he　added；　stretching　his　feet　out　to　the　fire。
“They’ll　soon　serve　us　new　ones。　They　say　when　we　finish　them　off；　we　are　all　to　have　a　double　lot　of　stuff。”
“I　say；　that　son　of　a　bitch；　Petrov；　has　sneaked　off；　it　seems；”　said　a　sergeant。
“It’s　a　long　while　since　I’ve　noticed　him；”　said　the　other。
“Oh；　well；　a　poor　sort　of　soldier　…”
“And　in　the　third　company；　they　were　saying；　there　were　nine　men　missing　at　the　roll…call　yesterday。”
“Well；　but　after　all；　when　one’s　feet　are　frozen；　how’s　one　to　walk？”
“Oh；　stuff　and　nonsense！”　said　the　sergeant。
“Why；　do　you　want　to　do　the　same？”　said　an　old　soldier；　reproachfully　addressing　the　man　who　had　talked　of　frozen　feet。
“Well；　what　do　you　think？”　the　sharp…nosed　soldier；　called　“Crow；”　said　suddenly；　in　a　squeaking　and　quavery　voice；　turning　himself　on　one　elbow　behind　the　fire。　“If　a　man’s　sleek　and　fat；　he　just　grows　thin；　but　for　a　thin　man　it’s　death。　Look　at　me；　now！　I　have　no　strength　left；”　he　said；　with　sudden　resolution；　addressing　a　sergeant。　“Say　the　word　for　me　to　be　sent　off　to　the　hospital。　I’m　one　ache　with　rheumatism；　and　one　only　gets　left　behind　just　the　same　…”
“There；　that’s　enough；　that’s　enough；”　said　the　sergeant　calmly。
The　soldier　was　silent；　and　the　conversation　went　on。
“There’s　a　rare　lot　of　these　Frenchies　have　been　taken　to…day；　but　not　a　pair　of　boots　on　one　of　them；　one　may　say；　worth　having；　no；　not　worth　mentioning；”　one　of　the　soldiers　began；　starting　a　new　subject。
“The　Cossacks　had　stripped　them　of　everything。　We　cleaned　a　hut　for　the　colonel；　and　carried　them　out。　It　was　pitiful　to　see　them；　lads；”　said　the　dancer。　“We　overhauled　them。　One　was　alive；　would　you　believe　it；　muttering　something　in　their　lingo。”
“They’re　a　clean　people；　lads；”　said　the　first。　“White—why；　as　white　as　a　birch…tree；　and　brave　they　are；　I　must　say；　and　gentlemen　too。”
“Well；　what　would　you　expect？　Soldiers　are　taken　from　all　classes　with　them。”
“And　yet　they　don’t　understand　a　word　we　say；”　said　the　dancer；　with　a　wondering　smile。　“I　says　to　him；　‘Of　what　kingdom　are　you？’　and　he　mutters　away　his　lingo。　A　strange　people！”
“I’ll　tell　you　a　wonderful　thing；　mates；”　went　on　the　man　who　had　expressed　surprise　at　their　whiteness。　“The　peasants　about　Mozhaisk　were　telling　how；　when　they　went　to　take　away　the　dead　where　the　great　battle　was；　why；　their　bodies　had　been　lying　there　a　good　month。　Well；　they　lay　there；　as　white　and　clean　as　paper；　and　not　a　smell　about　them。”
“Why；　from　the　cold；　eh？”　asked　one。
“You’re　a　clever　one！　Cold；　indeed！　Why；　it　was　hot　weather。　If　it　had　been　from　the　cold；　our　men；　too；　wouldn’t　have　rotted。　But　they　say；　go　up　to　one　of　ours；　and　it　would　all　be　putrefied　and　maggoty。　They　tie　handkerchiefs　round　their　noses；　and　drag　them　off；　turning　their　faces　away；　so　they　say。　They　can’t　help　it。　But　they’re　white　as　paper；　not　a　smell　about　them。”
There　was　a　general　silence。
“Must　be　from　the　feeding；”　said　the　sergeant：　“they　are　gorged　like　gentry。”
No　one　replied。
“That　peasant　at　Mozhaisk；　where　the　battle　was；　was　saying　that　they　were　fetched　from　ten　villages　round；　and　at　work　there　for　twenty　days；　and　couldn’t　get　all　the　dead　away。　A　lot　of　those　wolves；　says　he　…”
“That　was　something　like　a　battle；”　said　an　old　soldier。　“The　only　one　worth　mentioning；　everything　since　…　it’s　simply　tormenting　folks　for　nothing。”
“Oh；　well；　uncle；　we　did　attack　them　the　day　before　yesterday。　But　what’s　one　to　do？　They　won’t　let　us　get　at　them。　They　were　so　quick　at　laying　down　their　arms；　and　on　their　knees。　Pardon！—they　say。　And　that’s　only　one　example。　They　have　said　twice　that　Platov　had　taken　Polion　himself。　He　catches　him；　and　lo！　he　turns　into　a　bird　in　his　hands　and　flies　away　and　away。　And　as　to　killing　him；　no　manner　of　means　of　doing　it。”
“You’re　a　sturdy　liar；　Kiselov；　by　the　look　of　you！”
“Liar；　indeed！　It’s　the　holy　truth。”
“Well；　if　you　ask　me；　I’d　bury　him　in　the　earth；　if　I　caught　him。　Yes；　with　a　good　aspen　cudgel。　The　number　of　folk　he　has　destroyed！”
“Any　way；　we　shall　soon　make　an　end　of　him；　he　won’t　come　again；”　said　the　old　soldier；　yawning。
The　conversation　died　away；　the　soldiers　began　making　themselves　comfortable　for　the　night。
“I　say；　what　a　lot　of　stars；　how　they　shine！　One　would　say　the　women　had　been　laying　out　their　linen！”　said　a　soldier　admiring　the　Milky　Way。
“That’s　a　sign　of　a　good　harvest；　lads！”
“We　shall　want　a　little　more　wood。”
“One　warms　one’s　back；　and　one’s　belly　freezes。　That’s　queer。”
“O　Lord！”
“What　are　you　shoving　for—is　the　fire　only　for　you；　eh？　See　…　there　he　sprawls。”
In　the　silence　that　reigned　snoring　could　be　heard　from　a　few　who　had　gone　to　sleep。　The　rest　turned　themselves　to　get　warm　by　the　fire；　exchanging　occasional　remarks。　From　a　fire　a　hundred　paces　away　came　a　chorus　of　merry　laughter。
“They　are　guffawing　in　the　fifth　company；”　said　a　soldier。　“And　what　a　lot　of　them　there！”
A　soldier　got　up　and　went　off　to　the　fifth　company。
“There’s　a　bit　of　fun！”　he　said；　coming　back。　“Two　Frenchies　have　come。　One’s　quite　frozen；　but　the　other’s　a　fine　plucky　fellow！　He’s　singing　songs。”
“O…O！　must　go　and　look　…”　Several　soldiers　went　across　to　the　fifth　company。


Chapter　9
THE　FIFTH　COMPANY　was　bivouacking　close　up　to　the　birch　copse。　An　immense　camp…fire　was　blazing　brightly　in　the　middle　of　the　snow；　lighting　up　the　rime…covered　b