GARIBALDI, STRETCHER-BEARER
The long night set in, and the soldier, wearied from his long wait,
dropped to sleep in spite of the noise. Lucia's tired little body
rested, but her eyes never relaxed their watch in the darkness.
The fire kept up steadily, and at irregular intervals a star-shell
would illuminate the high mountains. Towards midnight there was an
extra loud explosion, and once more the terrifying flames seemed to
encircle Cellino.
Lucia wondered dully what had been struck. The church was gone, and
she supposed this was the town hall. It looked too near, as far as she
could judge, for the convent.
Her ears were becoming accustomed to the sound, and she thought the
fire from both sides was being concentrated towards the south. The
shells near them lessened, and at last stopped. Before dawn the
Italian stirred, and called out in his sleep.
Lucia spoke to him, but he did not answer; he was so exhausted that he
was soon unconscious again.
Lucia watched the east, and tried to imagine Beppi safe and sound in a
town far away from this terrible din, but she could be sure of nothing.
She remembered Roderigo's words, 'She is safe,' and knew that he must
have meant Maria. Surely Beppi and Nana were with her and Aunt Rudini;
it could not be otherwise.
With a guilty start she remembered Garibaldi. Where was she, and what
had become of her in all the terrors of yesterday? Lucia could not
remember having noticed her after she left the footbridge. Was she
safe in the mountains, or lying dead in a shell hole?
"My Garibaldi, poor little one, she would not understand, and she will
think I neglected her."
Tears of pity and weariness stung Lucia's cheeks. The thought of her
little goat, suffering and neglected, seemed to be more than she could
bear. She buried her head in her arm and cried softly. The tears were
a relief to her, and long after she had stopped sobbing they trickled
down her cheeks.
She fell into a light doze now that her watch was so nearly ended, and
did not waken until the east was streaked with gray. She might not
have awakened then, had it not been for a cold, wet nose burrowing in
her neck, and a plaintive, "Naa, Naa!"
She sat up suddenly to discover Garibaldi, covered with mud from her
ears to her tail, looking very woe-begone, standing beside her.
Regardless of the mud Lucia threw her arms around her pet, and for once
in her life the little goat seemed to return her caress.
When Lucia lifted her head there was a smile on her lips, and the old
light of determination shone in her eyes. She got to her knees slowly
and looked about her. The guns were booming back and forth, but their
position seemed to be changed. The Austrian guns still sounded from
across the river, but their range was much farther south.
Lucia looked towards the west. None of the guns that were there the
night before could be heard. With a throb of joy she realized that the
booming now came from the town.
"Had the Italians crept up and into Cellino during the night?" The
very idea was so exciting that she could not rest until she made sure.
She stood up and walked over to the road. The gate had an odd
appearance in the half light. She walked up the hill a little way,
rubbing her eyes as she went. Something behind the wall seemed to
appear suddenly, emit a puff of smoke, and then disappear.
Lucia had never seen a big gun in her life, and she did not know that
one was hidden securely in the cover of the wall near the ruins of the
church, for so quietly had the great monster arrived, and so stealthily
had the soldiers worked, that its sudden appearance seemed almost a
miracle.
Lucia put it down as one, and offered her prayer of thankfulness from
the middle of the muddy road. Then the work at hand took the place of
her surprise, and she ran back to her wounded soldier and roused him
gently. He opened his eyes; they were bright with fever, and he tossed
restlessly.
Lucia tried to move him, but could not. He was very big, and she could
not pull him as she had the slender Roderigo.
As she stopped to consider, the walls of Cellino suddenly seemed to let
loose a fury of smoke and flame. Nothing that had happened during the
day before equalled it. The big guns boomed and the smaller ones sent
out sharp, cracking noises that were even more terrifying.
Poor Lucia dropped to her face again, and Garibaldi cowered beside her.
Nothing seemed to happen. The shells did not fall near them as she had
expected, and after her first fright had passed, she got to her feet
again.
Tugging at the soldier was useless, and an idea was forming in her
mind. She ran as fast as she could up the hill to the cottage, calling
Garibaldi to follow.
At the shed she stopped and looked at the door. It was light, and she
soon tore it away from its support. Then she went into the cottage and
came back with a rope. She made a loop and put it over the goat's
head. Then with two long pieces she contrived a harness and hitched
the door to it. One end dragged on the ground, and the other was about
a foot above it. The rope was crossed on the goat's back and tied
firmly to the long ends of the door that did duty as shafts. Garibaldi
was too disheartened to protest, and Lucia had little trouble in
leading her down the hill.
The soldier was delirious when she reached him, but he was so weak that
it was an easy matter to roll him on to the improvised stretcher.
Lucia took hold of one shaft, and with Garibaldi pulling too, they
started off.
It was a long and weary climb, but at last they reached the cottage.
The terrible jolting had been agony for the soldier. He regained
consciousness on the way, and from time to time a groan escaped him.
But when he was in the house he did his best to smile, and crawled onto
the mattress that Lucia had pulled to the floor.
She made haste to take off his knapsack, and under his direction she
dressed the ugly wound in his thigh. Her fingers, only used to rough
work, moved clumsily, but she managed to make him a little more
comfortable. He smiled up at her bravely.
"Poor little one, you are tired. Go and eat," he whispered. And
Lucia, after she saw his head sink back on the pillow, found a stale
loaf of black bread and began to munch it slowly.
The soldier pointed to his knapsack and told her to eat whatever she
found in it.
"There should be some of my emergency rations left," he said faintly.
Lucia found some dried beef and offered it to him, but he shook his
head and asked for a drink of water. She gave it to him, but his eyes
closed and his head fell back as he drank. She ate all the beef and a
cake of chocolate that she found; and then went to the door to look out.
Cellino was enveloped in smoke and she could not see the gate. The
guns were barking, and little spurts of white smoke seemed to punctuate
each separate fire. Away to the east the enemy's guns were still
booming.
Lucia realized that a hard battle was under way, and that it would be
useless to try to get help until there was a lull. She returned to the
room and looked down at the soldier. He was moaning softly, and his
eyes looked up at her beseechingly.