III—THE PRIMITIVE SAVAGERY OF WAR
"Yet I had to get so near the Russian that I could seize him by the throat at one jump. He must not be able to cry out.
"And that was the hardest part of my task; compared to it, all the rest was only child's play. For when one man is so near another man, the other must either see or hear him. I breathed as softly as a dying man, but kept pushing forward.
"And when one is so impatient he imagines everything possible. It seemed to me as if each movement I made caused a frightful disturbance. But that was only the hot beating of my blood.
"At last there was nothing which should have hidden me from the vision of the Russian. I saw him distinctly when he came in my direction. The snow beat in my eyes, but I could not turn my gaze away from him.
"He was a tall Siberian and wore a snow cap. His cheek bones stood out like those of a heathen, which he probably was. He was thinking of nothing; sleeping as he stood, like a rabbit with open eyes.
"That was my luck and his misfortune. That made me bold. I ventured a quicker movement, sliding a whole pace forward. He stood there, half turned toward the wood. He must suddenly have sensed my presence, for he became at once more wide awake and uneasy, walking quickly to and fro with a restless movement, like a hen when she sees a hawk above her.
"He lifted his gun as though to shoot; but not at me, for I was almost at his feet. I think that he did not dare to look ahead—at me—for the fright would have been too great for him; he would have died of it.
"Then he turned to the other side to see whether an enemy might be creeping up from that direction. That was my moment—my time to do what I intended to do.