Page:The Way of the Cross, Doroshevich, tr. Graham, 1916.djvu/84

 68 A whole sea of bonfires.

It is damp. The smoke settles downward.

It is impossible to breathe along the road for the smoke.

It stops the breathing, makes the eyes smart.

The lights of the relief cars cannot penetrate this thick smoke.

And all around in the smoke are crimson fires.

Showers of sparks fly about in the sky.

This great glare is the necessary outcome of all these camp-fires.

Possibly only in the times of the Tartar invasion were there such pictures.

All around in the forest is the unceasing chatter of some gigantic crowd.

Saws are creaking. As in an Old Believers' settlement in the woods when people are called to prayer with a wooden clapper is the sound of the axes, the axes