Page:The cry for justice - an anthology of the literature of social protest. - (IA cryforjusticea00sinc).pdf/595

 have been crushed by the horses' hoofs and the wheels. Many of them are still alive—a pulpy, bleeding mass, but "still alive.

And yet there is still something more hellish even than all this, and that is the appearance of the most vile scum of humanity, as it shows itself in war—the appearance and activity of "the hyenas of the battlefield." "Then slink on the monsters who grope after the spoils of the dead, and bend over the corpses and over the living, mercilessly tearing off their clothes from their bodies. The boots are dragged off the bleeding limbs, the rings off the wounded hands, or to get the ring the finger is simply chopped off, and if a man tries to defend himself from such a sacrifice, he is murdered by these hyenas; or, in order to make him unrecognizable, they dig his eyes out."

I shrieked out loud at the doctor's last words. I again saw the whole scene before me, and the eyes into which the hyena was plunging his knife were Frederick's soft, blue, beloved eyes.

"Pray, forgive me, dear lady, but it was by your own wish"

"Oh, yes; I desire to hear it all. What you are now describing was the night that follows the battle; and these scenes are enacted by the starlight?"

"And by torchlight. The patrols which the conquerors send out to survey the field of battle carry torches and lanterns, and red lanterns are hoisted on signal poles to point out the places where flying hospitals are to be established."

"And next morning, how does the field look?"

"Almost more fearful still. The contrast between the bright smiling daylight and the dreadful work of man on