第467章

第467章aboutthekolotcha,inborodino,andbothsidesofit,especiallytotheleftwherethevoinarunsthroughswampygroundintothekolotcha,amiststillhungoverthescene,melting,parting,shimmeringwithlightinthebrightsunshine,andgivingfairy-likebeautytotheshapesseenthroughit.thesmokeofthegunsmingledwiththismist,andeverywheregleamsofsunlightsparkledinitfromthewater,fromthedew,fromthebayonetsofthesoldierscrowdingontheriverbanksandinborodino.throughthismistcouldbeseenawhitechurch,hereandthereroofsofcottagesinborodino,andfitfulglimpsescameofcompactmassesofsoldiers,andgreenammunition-boxesandcannons.andthewholescenemoved,orseemedtomove,asthemistandsmoketrailedoverthewideplain.inthislowgroundaboutborodinointhemist,andaboveit,andespeciallyalongthewholelinetotheleft,inthecopses,inthemeadowsbelow,andonthetopsoftheheights,cloudsofsmokewereincessantlyspringingoutofnothing,nowsingly,nowseveralatonce,thenatlongerintervals,theninrapidession.thesecloudsofsmoke,puffing,rolling,meltingintooneanother,andsunderingapart,trailedallacrossthewideplain.thesepuffsofsmoke,andthereportsthatfollowedthem,were,strangetosay,whatgavethechiefcharmtothescene.

“poooff！”suddenlythereflewuparound,compactballofsmoke,withshadesofpurple,grey,andmilk-whiteinit,and“booom！”followedtheroarofthecannonaminutelater.

“pooff-pooff！”twocloudsofsmokerose,meetingandminglingintoone;and“boom-boom,”thesoundrepeatedwhattheeyehadseen.

pierrelookedroundatthefirstpuffofsmoke,whichhehadseenasecondbeforearound,compactball,andalreadyinitsplacewerewreathsofsmoketrailingawaytooneside,and“pooff”…（thenapause）“pooff-pooff”—threemoreflewup,andanotherfouratonce,andatthesameintervalsaftereachother“boom…boom-boom-boom,”rangoutthesonorous,resolute,unfailingsounds.atonemomentitseemedthatthosecloudsofsmokewerescuddingacrosstheplain,atthenext,thattheywerestationary,andthecopses,fields,andglitteringbayonetswereflyingbythem.fromtheleftsidethesegreatcloudsofsmokewereincessantlyflyingoverthefieldsandbushes,withthestatelyroarresoundingaftereachofthem.stillnearer,inthelowmeadowsandcopses,theredartedupfromthemusket-firetinypuffsthathardlyformedintoballsofsmoke,andeachofthese,too,haditstinyreportechoingafterit.tra-ta-ta-tasoundedthecrackofthemusketsatfrequentintervals,butthinandirregularincomparisonwiththerhythmicroarofthecannon.

pierrelongedtobethereinthemidstofthesmoke,theglitteringbayonets,themovement,andthenoise.helookedroundatkutuzovandhissuitetocomparehisownimpressionwiththatofothers.alllikehimwerelookingbeforethematthefield,and,hefancied,withthesamefeeling.everyfacenowwaslightedupbythatlatentheatoffeelingthatpierrehadnoticedthedaybefore,andunderstoodperfectlyafterhistalkwithprinceandrey.

“go,mydearfellow,go,andchristbewithyou！”saidkutuzov,nevertakinghiseyesoffthefieldofbattle,toageneralstandingbesidehim.thegeneral,whoreceivedthisorder,ranbypierredownthedescentfromthemound.

“torideacross！…”thegeneralsaidcoldlyandseverely,inanswertoaquestionfromoneofthestaff.

“anditoo,itoo,”thoughtpierre,andhewentinthesamedirection.

thegeneralmountedahorse,leduptohimbyacossack.pierrewentuptothegroom,whowasholdinghishorses.askinghimwhichwasthequietest,pierregotonit,clutchedatthehorse’smane,pressedhisheelsintothebeast’sstomach,andfeelingthathisspectacleswereslippingoff,andthathewasincapableoflettinggoofthemaneandthereins,hegallopedafterthegeneral,followedbysmilesfromthestaffofficersstaringathimfromthemound.