The Red Badge of Courage | Page 9

the landscape was streaked with two long, thin,
black columns which disappeared on the brow of a hill in front and
rearward vanished in a wood. They were like two serpents crawling
from the cavern of the night.
The river was not in view. The tall soldier burst into praises of what he
thought to be his powers of perception.
Some of the tall one's companions cried with emphasis that they, too,
had evolved the same thing, and they congratulated themselves upon it.
But there were others who said that the tall one's plan was not the true
one at all. They persisted with other theories. There was a vigorous
discussion.
The youth took no part in them. As he walked along in careless line he
was engaged with his own eternal debate. He could not hinder himself
from dwelling upon it. He was despondent and sullen, and threw
shifting glances about him. He looked ahead, often expecting to hear
from the advance the rattle of firing.
But the long serpents crawled slowly from hill to hill without bluster of
smoke. A dun-colored cloud of dust floated away to the right. The sky
overhead was of a fairy blue.
The youth studied the faces of his companions, ever on the watch to
detect kindred emotions. He suffered disappointment. Some ardor of
the air which was causing the veteran commands to move with
glee--almost with song--had infected the new regiment. The men began
to speak of victory as of a thing they knew. Also, the tall soldier
received his vindication. They were certainly going to come around in
behind the enemy. They expressed commiseration for that part of the
army which had been left upon the river bank, felicitating themselves
upon being a part of a blasting host.
The youth, considering himself as separated from the others, was
saddened by the blithe and merry speeches that went from rank to rank.
The company wags all made their best endeavors. The regiment
tramped to the tune of laughter.

The blatant soldier often convulsed whole files by his biting sarcasms
aimed at the tall one.
And it was not long before all the men seemed to forget their mission.
Whole brigades grinned in unison, and regiments laughed.
A rather fat soldier attempted to pilfer a horse from a dooryard. He
planned to load his knapsack upon it. He was escaping with his prize
when a young girl rushed from the house and grabbed the animal's
mane. There followed a wrangle. The young girl, with pink cheeks and
shining eyes, stood like a dauntless statue.
The observant regiment, standing at rest in the roadway, whooped at
once, and entered whole-souled upon the side of the maiden. The men
became so engrossed in this affair that they entirely ceased to
remember their own large war. They jeered the piratical private, and
called attention to various defects in his personal appearance; and they
were wildly enthusiastic in support of the young girl.
To her, from some distance, came bold advice. "Hit him with a stick."
There were crows and catcalls showered upon him when he retreated
without the horse. The regiment rejoiced at his downfall. Loud and
vociferous congratulations were showered upon the maiden, who stood
panting and regarding the troops with defiance.
At nightfall the column broke into regimental pieces, and the fragments
went into the fields to camp. Tents sprang up like strange plants. Camp
fires, like red, peculiar blossoms, dotted the night.
The youth kept from intercourse with his companions as much as
circumstances would allow him. In the evening he wandered a few
paces into the gloom. From this little distance the many fires, with the
black forms of men passing to and fro before the crimson rays, made
weird and satanic effects.
He lay down in the grass. The blades pressed tenderly against his cheek.
The moon had been lighted and was hung in a treetop. The liquid

stillness of the night enveloping him made him feel vast pity for
himself. There was a caress in the soft winds; and the whole mood of
the darkness, he thought, was one of sympathy for himself in his
distress.
He wished, without reserve, that he was at home again making the
endless rounds from the house to the barn, from the barn to the fields,
from the fields to the barn, from the barn to the house. He remembered
he had so often cursed the brindle cow and her mates, and had
sometimes flung milking stools. But, from his present point of view,
there was a halo of happiness about each of their heads, and he would
have sacrificed all the brass buttons on the continent to have been
enabled to return to them. He told himself that he was not formed for a
soldier.