The Daily Worker Newspaper, December 12, 1925, Page 11

ae “Advances are good, lad. Remember, we musn’t make a-mess of our end of it.” The muzhiks, lined up along the embankment if for mowing. They waited. f embankment looked unnaturally, disagree- y@mpty. During the last few days echelons of refugees, of Japanese, American, Russian sol- liers, had passed eastward} one after the other. Then a thread snapped somewhere and men were thrown in another direction. There were rumors that the peasants coming from the hills -were plundering the refugees, and the soldiers were snyious. Armored Train No. 14-69 was dashing between the stations, and it alone prevented the soldiers from dropping everything and making The everills. staff was sitting in the switch- 's booth." The switchman stood dejectedly at the telephone receiver and asked the station: s the armored train coming soon?” ext to-him sat a guerilla fighter with a calm ; he held a revolver and he was gazing at the techman’s mouth. aska Okorok was baiting the switchman: “Dpn’t get cold feet. We'll make you a cook.” pointing to the telephone he said: hey say that the learned Bolsheviks in Petro- talk with the moon.” ell, who can help it, even if it’s so?” he muzhiks sighed and looked at the embank- ts ruth can climb even to the stars.” he staff was awaiting the armored trajn. Five dred muzhiks were detailed to the bridge. Russian carts brot logs to the embank- t, so as to prevent the armored train from g back. Crowbars lay near the ties—ready tearing up the rails. ‘Vnobov said grumblingly: ‘Truth and truth is all you know. But we of:’t know ourselves what it’s for. What do you ¢j/nt to talk to the moon for, Vaska?” ‘Just from curiosity, that’s all! Perhaps we zht want to build a muzhik on the moon.” She muzhiks roared. ‘Damned sinner!” ‘Darn his hide!” : ‘Here we’re trying to dope out how. to lose as y rmen as we can, and he goes batting about the on.) How. are, we. going. to take the armored : y im, meesrna THRing W4any tie wdiiw | ‘We'll take it!” ; Tt ain’t a squirrel that you can just nip off vine.” \t that moment Vershinin arrived. He enter- | breathing heavily; with a weary movement he ; his cap on the table and said to Znobov: Soon?” ‘he switchman at the telephone said: They don’t answer.” ‘he muzhiks sat silently. One of them began talk about hunting. Znobov remembered the sident of the Revcom in the city. That light-haired fellow?” asked the muzhik 9 Ifid just been talking about hunting; and aiat off he began to spin a yarn about Pekle- 10, that his face is whiter than wheat flour, i that women cling to him like frogs to a unp, and that the American minister had of- ed seven hundred billion to induce Peklevanov assume the American faith, but that Pekle- ‘ov had answered, proudly: “We won’t accept t into our faith, even for nothing.” ° Son of a——!” said the muzhiks admiringly. ‘or some reason it was pleasant to Znobov to en to all this lying, and he felt moved to tell 1ething, himself. . Vershinin took off his boots | began to rewrap his foot-cloths. Suddenly switchman spoke timidly into the telephone: When? . Five-twenty?” ind turning to the muzhiks he.gaid : Coming!” bn .nd as if the train.were already at the booth, of}them ran out and, shoulidering their rifles, ed the carts and drove eastward to the 1 both it!” Okorok was saying. \ séout was sent forward. — ‘hey looked at the rails that stretched with a 1 glitter among the trees. Rip ’em. up, and that’s all.” ind from;another wagon came the retort: ( poy done. Who'll put ’em together We'll go straight in the train, brother!” We'll, just roll into the city!” it We can’t afford to meddle with the track!” Ykorok shouted: . —_. 2 a Oh _Brothers,.but they have men!” On the train. Special men who fix the track, ‘en’t they?” You're a fool, Vaska; and what if we kill them off? All of ’em?” And getting agreed: oe i3 “That’s the stuff... Kill ’em off!” “No, no, there’ll be nobody to fix the track.” They kept looking back to see if the armored train was coming. They were careful to remain under cover of the woods, for rarely did men ex- pose themselves along the line—the armored train fired on the run. Hearts were beating with fear; the men flogged their horses, urging them on as if shelter awaited them at the bridge. : About two versts from the switchman’s booth they saw a rider on the embankment. “Ours!” shouted Znobov. Vaska took aim. “Shall I nip him off?) Or is he ours?” “The devil he is! Would I be aiming at him if he were?” Sin-Bin-Ou, the Chinaman, who sat -next to Vaska, restrained him: .. .. “Wa-it, Va-si-ka-a!?.~ ; “Wait!” shouted Znaboyo.. The rider came nearer... It was the muzhik with the bandaged head, the.one who had brot the American. “Ts Nigita Yegorich here?” “Well?” The muzhik shouted joyfully: “We come there, and we find—Cossacks. Near the bridge! We shot ’em down and turned back.” “Where from?” Vershinin rode up to the muzhik and, looking him over, asked: “Did you kill them all?” “All, Nikita Yegorich. Five of ’em, god bless their souls!” . “But where are the Cossacks from?” The muzhik slapped his horse on the mane: “Well, the bridge ain’t blowed up yet, Nigita Yegorich. It’s standing.” The muzhiks yelled: “What’s that?” “Pravokater !” “Smash his mug for him!” The muzhik began to cross himself hastily. “On the cross!’ It ain’t blowed up. They blowed themselves up near a rock, ’bout two thousand feet from here. Must have been tryin’ out the dynamite. All we found was a part of a man’s leg, with a bit of pants around it,—and-all the rest... gone!” DIMAS HOP 9407 wOtLuy The muzhiks were silent. They went forward, but suddenly stopped. Vaska, his face all dis- torted, cried: “Brothers, but the armored-train will get away to the city! Brothers!” The crowd of muzhiks who had been sent to the bridge swarmed from the woods. One of them said: “There are logs piled up on the bridge, across the track, Nikita Yegorich. We’re answering the fire of the Cossacks. Well, there ain’t many of "em.” “Shall we go to the bridge?” asked Znobov. At this moment, for some reason, they all look- ed back. A stream of smoke was spreading light- ly over the forest. “Coming!” said Okorok. Znobov repeated, fiercely flogging his horse: “Coming !” ‘ The muzhiks echoed: “Coming! .. .” “Comrades!” rang out Okorok’s voice. must stop it!” They leaped from the wagons, grabbed their rifles, and rushed to the embankment. The horses “We walked off to graze, munching busily and swing: ing their bridles. The muzhiks ran up the embankment. They stretched out on the ties, inserted» the maga- zines; all was ready...’ The rails moaned softly. was approaching. ~ .,.;. Znobov said in a low yoice: “Tvl just cut us in two. They won’t even bother to shoot!” ’ Suddenly all of them realized this, and they quietly crawled into the bushes, again leaving the track bare. ~ : The smoke was becoming thicker. The wind tore it into shreds, but.still.it erawled stubbornly over the forest. “Coming! . . . Coming!” the muzhiks shouted, running up to Vershinin. ’ Vershinin and the whole staff, all wet, were ly- ing shamefacedly in’ the bushes. Vaska Okorok smote the ground angrily with his fist. The Chinaman squatted, silently pulling up leaves of Znobov said hastily, with fear in hig voice: “Tf only we had a corpse!” “What for?” “You see, there’s a law—when theyrun over a. The armored. train inte the Spirit of it, they all corpse—the train must stop. To make out a protocol . . , certificate and all that!” “Well?” “Well, suppose we had a corpse. . We'd put it across the track. They’d cut it and stop, and then, when the engineer comes out, we shoot him. Then we can take the train.” The smoke was: growing denser. sounded. Vershinin jumped up and cried: “Comrades, who volunteers... on the track ...toberun over! We’ye got to croak, anyhow. Well? ... And then we'll nip off the engineer! But it’s more likely she’ll stop before running the man over.” The muzhiks raised their heads and glanced at the emlgnkment that looked like a funeral mound. . “Comrades!” Vershinin shouted. Not a sound from the muzhiks. Vaska threw his rifle aside and began to climb the. embankment. _ “Where. to?” shouted Znobov. , Vaska snapped back angrily: “You go to hell! Sons of-——!” A whistle And extending his arms along his body he stretched himself across the track. The trees were already murmuring and echo- ing, and shreds of yellowish-red smoke, like foam, were leaping over the tree-tops . Vaska turned around with his face down. The ties smelt of pitch. Vaska put a handful of sand on one of the ties and rested his cheek on it. The sand was warm and big-grained. The muzhiks’ voices came from the bushes indis- tinctly, like wind among the leaves. In the forest the rails were rumbling. Vaska raised his head and shouted toward the bushes: “Got some home-brew? . . . Heart’s burning!” A yellow-bearded muzhik crawled up to him on all fours, with a flask of home-brew. Vaska took a drink and placed the flask by his side. Then he raised his head, and brushing the sand from his cheek, listened intently to the rumbling: the blue trees were rumbling, the blue rails were rumbling. He raised himself on his elbows. His face contracted into one yellow wrinkle, his eyes were like two blood-red tears. . . ‘¥ can’t! >. . My'soul! .. .” »TPhe muzhiks were silent. > The Chinaman threw his rifle aside and began to climh the embankment. “Where to?” asked Znobov. Sin-Bin-On, without turning his head, articu- lated : “Lo-ne-some! .~ . Va-si-ka-a!” And he stretched himself next to Vaska. . His face, yellow, like an autumn leaf, became darker and more wrinkled. The rails were moan- ing. Whether it was a man crawling back down the embankment, or the bushes receiving some- one . Sin-Bin-Ou did not see, did not know... “I can-not! Bro-thers?” howled Vaska, crawl- ing down. The grass grew -slimy.... slimy. . . Sin-Bin-Ou was alone. His flat head with the emerald eyes, like the head of a cobra, touched the ties, tore away from them, and swaying, rose above the rails... A glance around. In the bushes the motionless heads of the muz- hiks were staring with waiting, hungry eyes, Sin-Bin-Ou lay down again. And once more the emerald-eyed cobra: swayed. upward, and once more a few hundred heads stirred the bushes and gazed toward him. Again the Chinaman lowered his head. a rough, yellow-bearded muzhik shouted to im: “Throw the flask over here, Chink! The sky grew And you’d better leave the livorver here... What do you want it for? ... Really, now... And I could use it.” Without lifting his head Sin-Bin-On took out the revolver; he swung his arm as if to throw the weapon into the bushes, and suddenly shot him- self in the back of the neck. * The Chinaman’s body clung close to the rails. The pines threw forth the armored trafii.’’ Tt was gray, square, and the eyes of the locomotive © burned an angry red. The sky became overeast ° — gray mildew, the trees stood out like blue CIOTR. «2 o : And the corpse of the Chinaman, Sin-Bin-Ou, clinging closely to the earth, listened to the ring- ing reverberation of the rails. . , “é * * © Taken from the book of short stories, “Flying Osip,” by courtesy of Interna- tional Publishers Co., Ine, a