The wounded soldiers, for the most part Austrians, began crawling toward the farm. There they bound up their wounds. The children looked on and sometimes gave aid, holding with their tiny fingers the blood-soaked cotton, or winding long and transparent bandages around the wounded limbs. They became accustomed to pain and to the groans of the dying, and in their naive and simple way rendered all the help of which they were capable.
At night, when darkness fell and when firing from both sides would cease, the Austrian relief workers would come, place the wounded on long and unsteady stretchers, and carry them to the rear. On one occasion the wounded sent the eldest girl to the pond to fetch some water. She stayed away for a long, long time. Later she was found lying on the grass with a bullet in her slender little shoulder. The pails lay near her empty.
During the night she, too, was placed on a stretcher and was carried away. With her went the mother and the rest of the children. From that night on the farm remained forsaken.
The wounded, however, continued crawling to the hut, their numbers increasing from day to day. At times the litter bearers could not manage to look into the farm, and the wounded lay for days at a stretch without aid.
III—"THERE WAS NO ONE TO BURY THE BODIES"
At the end of October a serious cholera epidemic broke out among the Austrian troops. From that time on there appeared among those creeping toward the lonely farm large numbers of emaciated and pale-blue forms—shadows of men. On reaching the farm they fell on to the straw, coiled and groaned in agony, and for the most part remained lying there, silenced by everlasting sleep.
There was no one to bury the bodies, and they gradually began decomposing. On top of those bodies fell more and more. It became impossible to live amid these hellish surroundings, and if by chance some unfortunate wounded happened to come along most of them would leave the little hut and limp ahead, preferring to dare the firing line rather than be stifled in this horrible atmosphere of death and stench.
The engagements, having lasted several weeks, became more and more stubborn. The trenches crept nearer and nearer, until they resembled two live, gigantic horns about to embrace each other. Presently one of the Austrian trenches came so near the farm that the house became an obstacle to firing, and an order was issued to apply the torch to the incumbrance.
It was a dangerous task; all knew through experience that the Russians keep a sharp lookout on all that transpires in the enemy line and do not allow to pass with impunity the most insignificant move on the part of the enemy. At night the men, while smoking, would lie low at the very base of the trench, as the mere striking of a match sufficed to draw fire from the opposite lines.
As a result of some faint noise or a slight movement, vigorous firing would not infrequently burst out all along the line, and instead of getting the much-needed rest, the soldiers would pass nights on their feet and remain fatigued from sleeplessness and nervous exertion.