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"What a fine fellow you are, friend!" said the Cossack to a

convoy soldier with a wagon, who was pressing onto the

infantrymen who were crowded together close to his wheels and his

horses. "What a fellow! You can't wait a moment! Don't you see

the general wants to pass?"

But the convoyman took no notice of the word "general" and

shouted at the soldiers who were blocking his way. "Hi there,

boys! Keep to the left! Wait a bit." But the soldiers, crowded

together shoulder to shoulder, their bayonets interlocking, moved

over the bridge in a dense mass. Looking down over the rails

Prince Nesvitski saw the rapid, noisy little waves of the Enns,

which rippling and eddying round the piles of the bridge chased

each other along. Looking on the bridge he saw equally uniform

living waves of soldiers, shoulder straps, covered shakos,

knapsacks, bayonets, long muskets, and, under the shakos, faces

with broad cheekbones, sunken cheeks, and listless tired

expressions, and feet that moved through the sticky mud that

covered the planks of the bridge.