War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy [79]
“How come they said Kutuzov was blind in one eye?”
“Hell he’s not! Stone blind…”
“Naw…brother, he’s sharper-eyed than you—the boots and the foot cloths, he took it all in…”
“The way he looked my feet over, dear brother mine…Well! I think…”
“And that other one, the Austriak with him, it’s like he’s all smeared with chalk. White as flour! I s’pose they clean him like ammunition!”
“What about it, Fedeshou!…Did he say when the fighting would begin? You were standing closer. They all said Boonapart himself was stationed in Brunovo.”
“Boonapart stationed there! Lies, you fool! What do you know! It’s the Prussky’s up in arms now. The Austriak’s pacifying him. Soon as they make peace, the war with Boonapart will open up. And he says Boonapart’s in Brunovo! It’s plain you’re a fool, no point listening to you.”
“Devilish billeters! The fifth company’s already tucked into the village, see, they’ll have their kasha boiled, and we’ve still got no place.”
“Give us a biscuit, you devil.”
“And did you give me tobacco yesterday? So there, brother. Well, here, take it, God help you.”
“They could at least call a halt, or else we’ll slog on for three more miles unfed.”
“It was a pretty thing the way the Germans sent us carriages.3 You go riding along, you know: it’s grand!”
“But here, brother, the folk have gone clean wild. There it was all some kind of Poles, all under the Russian crown, but now, brother, it’s gone solid German.”
“Singers, up front!” the captain’s shout was heard.
And some twenty men from various ranks ran to the front of the company. The drummer and lead singer turned to face the singers, waved his arm, and struck up a drawn-out soldiers’ song that began: “It was dawn, the sun was rising…” and ended with the words: “And that, brothers, will our glory be with old man Kamensky…” The song had been composed in Turkey, and was now being sung in Austria, only with one change, that instead of “old man Kamensky,” they put in “old man Kutuzov.”
Having snapped out these last words in soldierly fashion and waved his arms as if throwing something on the ground, the drummer, a lean and handsome soldier of about forty, sternly looked the soldier-singers over and narrowed his eyes. Then, making sure that all eyes were aimed at him, he raised his arms as if carefully lifting some invisible precious object over his head, held it there for a few seconds, and all at once desperately threw it down:
Ah, my porch, my new porch!
“Ah, my new porch…” twenty voices picked up, and a spoon player, despite the weight of his ammunition, nimbly leaped out in front and walked backwards facing the company, moving his shoulders and threatening someone with his spoons. The soldiers swung their arms in time with the song, striding freely along and involuntarily keeping in step. From behind the company came the sound of wheels, the creaking springs, and the tramping of horses. Kutuzov and his suite were returning to town. The commander in chief gave a sign for the men to go on marching freely, and his face and all the faces of his suite expressed pleasure at the sounds of the song, at the sight of the dancing soldier and the merrily and briskly marching soldiers. In the second row of the right flank, where the coach overtook the company, the eye was involuntarily struck by the blue-eyed soldier Dolokhov, who marched especially briskly and gracefully in time with the song and looked at the faces of people passing by with such an expression as if he pitied all those who were not then marching with the company. The hussar cornet from Kutuzov’s suite, who had been mimicking the regimental commander, dropped behind the coach and rode over to Dolokhov.
The hussar cornet Zherkov had belonged for some time to the rowdy company headed by Dolokhov in Petersburg. Abroad, Zherkov had encountered Dolokhov as a soldier, but had found it unnecessary to recognize him. Now, after Kutuzov had talked with the demoted man, he addressed him with the joy of an old friend.
“Friend of my heart, how are you?” he