VI
Jimmie was distracted. He grabbed the lantern from the other man,
and ran this way and that, looking for some of the familiar
landmarks of his home--the chicken-house, the pig-sty, the back
fence with the broken elm tree in the corner, the railroad beyond.
He could not believe that he had come to the place at all--he could
not credit the reality of such nightmare sights as his eyes reported
to him. He rushed about, stumbling over mountains of upheaved brown
dirt, sliding down into craters that were filled with a strange,
penetrating odour which caused his eyes to smart; and then
clambering out again and running after men with lanterns, shouting
questions at them and not waiting for an answer. It seemed to him
that if he ran just a little farther he must surely find the house
and the other things he was looking for; but he found nothing but
more craters and more mountains of dirt; and little by little the
horrible truth became clear to him, that all the way down the
railroad track, as far as he could see or run, this gigantic trough
extended, a valley of raw dirt with mountains on each side, crowned
here and there with wheels and axles and iron trucks of blown-up
freight-cars, and filled in the bottom with the deadly fumes of
trinitrotoluol!
Jimmie cried out to the men and women with lanterns, asking had they
seen his wife and babies. But no one had seen them--no one had
notified them of the impending explosion! Jimmie was sobbing,
calling out distractedly; he ran out to the road, and after much
searching found a charred tree-stump which gave him his precise
bearings, so that he knew where the house should have been, and
could assure himself that it was precisely where that frightful
slope started down into the abyss. He slid around on this slope,
calling aloud, as if he expected the spirits of his loved ones might
have remained there, defying all the power of suddenly expanding
gases. He ran back across the road and called, as if they might have
fled that way.
At last he ran into Mr. Drew; old Mr. Drew, who a couple of weeks
before had taken Eleeza Betooser and her three little ones driving
in his buggy! That memory was the nearest Jimmie could get to them,
and so he clutched the old soldier's arm, and held on to it, weeping
like a little child.
The old man tried to draw him away, to get him to his home. But
Jimmie must stay on the spot, he was held by a spell of horror. He
wandered about, dragging Mr. Drew with him, pleading with people to
no purpose; now and then he would break out with curses against
war-makers, and especially those who made explosives and transported
them in freight-trains through other men's back-yards. For once
people heard him without threats of lynching.
So on through this night of anguish. Jimmie lost old man Drew in the
darkness, and was all alone when the dawn came, and he could see the
sweep of desolation about him, and the awe-stricken faces of the
spectators. Soon afterwards came the climax. He saw a crowd
gathered, and as he came up, this crowd parted for him. Nobody
seemed to want to speak, but they all watched, as if curious to see
what he would do. One of the men bore a burden, wrapped in a
horse-blanket; Jimmie gazed, and after a moment's hesitation the man
threw back part of the blanket and there before Jimmie's eyes was a
most horrible sight--a human leg, a large white leg, the lower half
covered with a black stocking tied at the top with a bit of tape. It
was such a leg as you see in the windows of stores where they sell
pretty things for ladies; only this leg was soft, mangled at the
top, smeared with blood, and partly charred black. One glance was
enough for Jimmie, and he put his hands over his eyes and turned and
ran--out to the road and away, away--anywhere from this place of
nightmares!
