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The Little Regiment by Stephen Crane
Book, page 91 / 92


and where could be heard in its fulness the terrible chorus of the
flames, laden with tones of hate and death, a hymn of wonderful ferocity.

He flung a blanket over an old mare's head, cut the halter close to the
manger, led the mare to the door, and fairly kicked her out to safety.
He returned with the same blanket, and rescued one of the work horses.
He took five horses out, and then came out himself, with his clothes
bravely on fire. He had no whiskers, and very little hair on his head.
They soused five pailfuls of water on him. His eldest son made a clean
miss with the sixth pailful, because the old man had turned and was
running down the decline and around to the basement of the barn, where
were the stanchions of the cows. Some one noticed at the time that he
ran very lamely, as if one of the frenzied horses had smashed his hip.

The cows, with their heads held in the heavy stanchions, had thrown
themselves, strangled themselves, tangled themselves--done everything
which the ingenuity of their exuberant fear could suggest to them.

Here, as at the well, the same thing happened to every man save one.
Their hands went mad. They became incapable of everything save the power
to rush into dangerous situations.

The old man released the cow nearest the door, and she, blind drunk
with terror, crashed into the Swede. The Swede had been running to and
fro babbling. He carried an empty milk-pail, to which he clung with an
unconscious, fierce enthusiasm. He shrieked like one lost as he went
under the cow's hoofs, and the milk-pail, rolling across the floor, made
a flash of silver in the gloom.

Old Fleming took a fork, beat off the cow, and dragged the paralysed
Swede to the open air. When they had rescued all the cows save one,
which had so fastened herself that she could not be moved an inch, they
returned to the front of the barn, and stood sadly, breathing like men
who had reached the final point of human effort.

Many people had come running. Some one had even gone to the church, and
now, from the distance, rang the tocsin note of the old bell. There was
a long flare of crimson on the sky, which made remote people speculate
as to the whereabouts of the fire.


 
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