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  greatestpunishmentwillbetoknowthatyouhavenotshownyourselfworthyof

  the confidence placed in you and that at the right moment you were unable to

  behaveatyourpostlikeamanandasoldier.Nowgo!'

  Not even these words, heavy, curt, carefully enunciated, could bring anything

  fresh to the young man's mind. He felt all that already. The appearance and

  speech of that woman, the bandit's mistress, the behaviour of Stevan and the

  wholecourseofthatshortenquiryhadsuddenlyrevealedtohiminitstruelight

  histhoughtless,naïveandunpardonablespringfeveronthe kapia. The major's

  wordsonlyseemedtohimtoplacetheofficialsealonallthat;theyweremore

  necessary to the major himself, in order to satisfy some unwritten but eternal

  demand for law and order, than to Fedun. As before a prospect of unsuspected

  grandeur,theyoungmanfoundhimselffacedwithaknowledgethathecouldnot

  grasp; the meaning of a few moments of forgetfulness in an evil hour and in a

  dangerousplace.Hadtheybeenlivedthroughandremainedunknown,thereon

  the kapia, they would have meant nothing at all; one of those youthful pranks later told to friends during dull patrol duties at night. But thus, reduced to a

  questionofdefiniteresponsibility,theymeanteverything.Theymeantmorethan

  death,theymeanttheendofeverything,anunwantedandunworthyend.There

  wouldbenomorefullandfrankexplanationseithertohimselfortocomrades.

  TherewouldbenomorelettersfromKolomea,nomorefamilyphotographs,no

  moneyorderssuchashehadsenthomewithpride.Itwastheendofonewho

  hasdeceivedhimselfandallowedotherstodeceivehim.

  Thereforehefoundnotawordtoreplytothemajor.

  ThesupervisionoverFedunwasnotparticularlystrict.Theygavehimbreakfast,

  whichheateasthoughwithsomeoneelse'smouth,andorderedhimtopackup

  hispersonaleffects,handinhisarmsandallgovernmentpropertyandbeready

  to leave at ten o'clock accompanied by a gendarme by the postal courier for

  Sarajevo,wherehewouldbehandedovertothegarrisoncourt.

  Whiletheyoungmanwastakingdownhisthingsfromtheshelfabovehisbed,

  those of his comrades who were still in the dormitory tiptoed out, closing the

  door carefully and silently behind them. Around him grew that circle of

  loneliness and deep silence which is always formed around a. man whom ill

  fortunehasstruck,asaroundasickanimal.Firsthetookoffitshookstheblack

  tabletonwhichhisname,rank,detachmentnumberandunitwerewritteninoil

  colours in German and placed it on his knees, with the writing down. On the

  blackbackofthetablettheyoungmanscribbledhastilywithascrapofchalk:

  'AllthatIleavepleasesendtomyfatheratKolomea.Isendgreetingstoallmy

  comradesandbegmysuperiorstopardonme.G.Fedun.'Thenhelookedonce

  morethroughthewindow,relishingthatlittlepieceoftheoutsideworldthathe

  wasabletoseethroughitsnarrowframe.Thenhetookdownhisrifle,loadedit

  withasinglechargeofballstillstickywithgrease.Thenhetookoffhisshoes

  and with a penknife cut his stocking over his big toe, lay down on the bed,

  wrapped his arms and legs around the rifle so that the top of the barrel was

  pressed firmly beneath his chin, shifted his right leg so that the hole in his

  stockingfittedoverthetriggerandpressed.Thesoundoftheshotrangthrough

  thebarracks.

  Afteragreatdecision,everythingbecomessimpleandeasy.Thedoctorcame.A

  Commission of Enquiry was held and attached to its findings a record in

  duplicateofFedun'sinterrogation.

  ThenarosethequestionofFedun'sburial.DraženovićwasorderedtogotoPop

  Nikolaanddiscussthematterwithhim;couldFedunbeburiedinthegraveyard

  eventhoughhehadtakenhisownlife,andwouldthepriestagreetoconductthe

  service,forthedeceasedwasbyfaithaUniate.

  InthelastyearPopNikolahadsuddenlygrownoldandweakinhislegs,sohe

  hadtakenasassistantforhisgreatparishPopJoso,ataciturnandnervoussortof

  man,thinandblackasaspentmatch.Inthepreviousfewmonths,hehadcarried

  outalmostallthedutiesofthepriestandtheservicesinthetownandvillages,

  whilePopNikola,whocouldonlymovewithdifficulty,dealtmainlywithwhat

  hecoulddoathomeorinthechurchnexttohishouse.

  Bythemajor'sorder,DraženovićwenttoPopNikola.Theoldmanreceivedhim

  lying on a divan; by him stood Pop Joso. After Draženović had explained the

  circumstances of Fedun's death and the question of his burial, both priests

  remained silent for a moment. Seeing that Pop Nikola did not speak, Pop Joso

  began first, timidly and uncertainly; the matter was exceptional and unusual,

  there were difficulties both in the canons of the church and in established

  custom, but if it could be shown that the suicide had not been of sound mind

  then something might be done. But then Pop Nikola sat up on his hard and

  narrowcouch,coveredwithanoldandfadedrug.Hisbodyonceagainassumed

  that monumental form which it had once had when he walked through the

  marketplaceandwasgreetedonallsides.Thefirstwordthathesaidilluminated

  his broad and still ruddy face, with his huge moustaches which tangled in his

  beardandhisheavyalmostwhiteeyebrows,thickandbushy,thefaceofaman

  who has learnt from birth how to think independently, to give his opinion

  sincerelyandtodefenditwell.

  Withouthesitationandwithoutbigwordsheansweredbothpriestandsergeant-

  majordirectly:

  'Nowthatthemisfortunehashappened,thereisnothingmoretobedoneabout

  it.Whowithasoundmindwouldeverraisehishandagainsthimself?Andwho

  would dare to take it on his soul to bury him as if he were without faith,

  somewherebehindafenceandwithoutapriest?Butyou,sir,goandgiveorders

  thatthedeadmanbepreparedandweshallburyhimassoonaswecan.Inthe

  graveyard,mostcertainly!Iwillsinghisrequiem.Later,ifeversomepriestof

  hislawshouldhappentopassthisway,lethimaddoralterashewishes,should

  henotfindeverythingtohisliking.'

  When Draženović had left, he turned once more to Pop Joso, who was

  astonishedandhumiliated.

  'HowcouldweforbidaChristiantobeburiedinthegraveyard?Andwhyshould

  Inotsinghisrequiem?Isn'titenoughthathehadbadluckwhenhewasalive?

  There,ontheotherside,letthoseaskabouthissinswhowillaskalltherestof

  usaboutours.'

  Thustheyoungmanwhohadmadehismistakeonthe kapia remainedforever

  inthetown.Hewasburiedthefollowingmorning.PopNikolasangtherequiem,

  assistedbythesacristanDimitrije.

  Onebyonehiscomradesofthe streifkorps filed past the grave and each threw

  o
n it a handful of earth. While two sextons worked rapidly, they stood there a

  fewsecondslongerasifwaitingfororders,lookingacrosstothefarsideofthe

  riverwhere,closetotheirownbarracks,roseastraightwhitecolumnofsmoke.

  There, on the level patch of grass above the barracks, they were burning the

  bloodstainedstrawfromFedun'smattress.

  The cruel fate of the young streifkorps boy, whose name no one ever

  remembered and who had paid with his life for a few spring moments of

  inattentionandemotiononthe kapia, was one of those incidents for which the

  townspeople had much understanding and long remembered and repeated. The

  memoryofthatsensitiveandunluckyyouthlastedfarlongerthantheguardon

  the kapia.

  BynextautumntheinsurrectioninHerzegovinahadfizzledout.

  Afewofthemoreimportantleaders,MoslemsandSerbs,fledtoMontenegroor

  Turkey. There remained only a few haiduks who in fact never had much real connection with the insurrection about conscription but had worked for

  themselves. Then those too were either captured or driven away. Herzegovina

  was pacified. Bosnia gave recruits without resistance. But the departure of the

  firstrecruitswasneithersimplenoreasy.

  Notmorethan100youngmenweretakenfromtheentiredistrict,butontheday

  they were mustered before the konak, peasants with their bags and a few

  townsmenwiththeirwoodenchests,itseemedasiftherewereplagueanduproar

  inthetown.Manyoftherecruitshadbeendrinkingsteadilyfromearlymorning

  andmixingtheirdrinks.Thepeasantswereincleanwhiteshirts.Therewerefew

  whohadnotbeendrinkingandthesesatneartheirbelongings,drowsingbehind

  awall.Themajoritywereexcited,flushedwithdrinkandsweatingintheheatof

  the day. Four or five boys from the same village would embrace, and then put

  their heads close together and swaying like a living forest begin a harsh and

  long-drawnchantingasiftheyweretheonlypeopleintheworld.

  'Oymymai-ai-ai-ai-den!O-o-o-y!''Afargreatercommotionthanthatmadeby

  the recruits themselves was made by the women, mothers, sisters and other

  relativesoftheyoungmen,whohadcomefromdistantvillagestosayfarewell,

  toseethemforthelasttime,toweep,towailandtogivethemsomelastgiftor

  finalsignoflove.Thesquarenearthebridgewaspackedwithwomen.Theysat

  thereasifturnedtostone,talkedamongthemselvesandfromtimetotimewiped

  away their tears with the fringes of their kerchiefs. In vain it had been earlier explainedtothemintheirvillagesthattheyoungmenweregoingneithertowar

  nortoslavery,butthattheywouldservetheEmperorinVienna,andbewellfed,

  well clothed and well shod; that after a term of two years they would return

  home,andthatyoungmenfromalltheotherpartsoftheEmpireservedinthe

  army,andthattheyservedforathree-yearterm.Allthatpassedovertheirheads

  like the wind, foreign and completely incomprehensible. They listened only to

  their instincts and would only be guided by them. These ancient and inherited

  instincts brought tears to their eyes and a wail to their throats, forced them

  persistently to follow as long as they could and try to get a last glance at him whomtheylovedmorethanlifeandwhomanunknownEmperorwascarrying

  off into an unknown land, to unknown trials and tasks. In vain even now the

  gendarmesandofficialsfromthe konak wentamongthemandassuredthemthat

  therewasnoreasonforsuchexaggeratedgriefandadvisedthemnottoblockthe

  waynorrushaftertherecruitsandcreatetroubleanddisorder,fortheywouldall

  return hale and hearty. But it was all in vain. The women listened to them,

  agreed to all they said dully and humbly and then returned once more to their

  tearsandwailing.Itseemedasiftheylovedtheirtearsandtheirwailingasmuch

  astheylovedthoseforwhomtheywept.

  Whenthetimecametomoveandtheyoungmenweredrawnupinfourranksin

  thecorrectmannerandmovedacrossthebridge,acrowdingandrushingbegan

  inwhicheventhemostequableofgendarmescouldhardlyretainhiscomposure.

  Thewomenranandtorethemselvesfromthehandsofthegendarmesinorderto

  be beside someone of their own, pushing and overturning one another. Their

  wails were mingled with cries, entreaties and last moment recommendations.

  Some of them even ran in front of the line of recruits whom four gendarmes

  werekeepinginfileandfellundertheirfeet,clutchingattheirbarebreastsand

  shouting:

  'Overmybody!Overmybody!'

  Themenlifted themupwith difficulty,carefullydisentangling bootsandspurs

  fromdishevelledhairanddisorderedskirts.

  Someoftherecruits,ashamed,triedbyangrygesturestomakethewomenreturn

  home. But most of the young men sang or shouted, increasing the general

  disorder. The few townsmen among them, pale with emotion, sang together in

  thetownmanner:

  'InSarajevoandBosnia

  Everymothermourns

  Whohassentherson

  AsarecruitfortheEmperor....'

  Thissongcreatedevengreaterweeping.

  When, somehow or other, they crossed the bridge towards which the whole

  convoy was headed and took the Sarajevo road, all the townspeople were

  awaitingthem,drawnuponeachsideoftheroad,inordertoseetherecruitsand

  toweepforthemasiftheywerebeingtakenawaytobeshot.Thereweremany

  women there too who wept for every one of them although none of their own

  relationswasamongstthosewhoweregoing.Foreverywomanhassomereason

  toweepandweepingissweetestwhenitisforanother'ssorrow.

  But little by little the ranks along the road became sparser. Even some of the

  peasantwomengaveup.Themostpersistentwerethemotherswhoranaround

  theconvoyasthoughtheywerefifteenyearsold,leapttheditchatthesideofthe

  road from one side to the other and tried to outwit the gendarmes and stay as

  long as possible close to their sons. When they saw that, the young men

  themselves.

  palewithemotionandasortofembarrassment,turnedandshouted:

  'GetalonghomewhenItellyou!'

  Butthemotherswentonforlong,blindtoallsavethesonsthatwerebeingtaken

  fromthemandlisteningtonothingsavetheirownweeping.

  Buteventhesetroublousdayspassed.Thepeopledispersedtotheirvillagesand

  the town again grew calm. When letters and the first photographs from the

  recruitsinViennabegantoarrive,everythingbecameeasierandmoretolerable.

  The women wept for long over those letters and photographs, but more gently

  andmorecalmly.

  The streifkorps was disbanded and left the barracks. For a long time there had beennoguardonthe kapia andthetownsfolkwentonsittingthereastheyhad
r />   donebefore.

  Two years quickly pass. That autumn the first recruits returned from Vienna,

  clean,close-croppedandwell-fed.Thepeopleclusteredaroundthemastheytold

  tales of army life and of the greatness of the cities they had seen, their talk

  interlarded with strange names and unfamiliar expressions. At the next call-up

  therewaslessweepingandagitation.

  Generally speaking, everything became easier and more normal. Young men grew up who no longer had any clear or lively memory of Turkish times and

  who had to a great extent accepted the new ways. But on the kapia they still lived according to the ancient custom of the town. Without regard for the new

  fashionsofdress,newprofessionsandnewtrades,thetownspeoplestillwenton

  meetingthereastheyhaddoneforcenturiespast,inthoseconversationswhich

  hadalwaysbeenandstillwerearealneedoftheirheartsandtheirimaginations.

  The recruits went to their service without uproar and without commotion.

  The haiduks were mentioned only in old men's tales. The streifkorps was forgotten as completely as that earlier Turkish guard when there had been a

  blockhouseonthe kapia.

  XIV

  Life in the town beside the bridge became more and more animated, seemed

  more and more orderly and fuller, assuming an even pace and a hitherto

  unknown balance, that balance towards which all life tends, everywhere and at

  alltimes,andwhichisonlyrarely,partiallyandtemporarilyachieved.

  Inthefaroffcitiesunknowntothetownsmenwhenceatthattimethepowerand

  administration over these districts originated, there was —in the last quarter of

  thenineteenthcentury—oneofthoseshortandrarelullsinhumanrelationships

  and social events. Something of that lull could be felt even in these remote

  districts,justasagreatcalmatseamaybefelteveninthemostdistantcreeks.

  Such were those three decades of relative prosperity and apparent peace in the

  Franz-Josef manner, when many Europeans thought that there was some

  infallibleformulafortherealizationofacenturies-olddreamoffullandhappy

  development of individuality in freedom and in progress, when the nineteenth