“He smells potatoes,” Ejem continued, laughing. “If he could only pull up a few and take them to his wife!”
The others all laughed. “Sure,” calmly added Vaněk.
“Here, you’re fairly rolling in potatoes, aren’t you?” Ejem teased. “And when at home someone gives you a potato you don’t know what it is and have to go to the neighbors to ask.”
The soldiers burst out laughing anew. Vaněk growled out something, but later laughed with the rest.
Just then we caught a glimpse of Major Holay riding up to our division on his powerful horse, choosing his way along the slope of the hill so that the enemy shots could not reach him. The horse was going at a trot, his broad, smooth breast shining in the sunlight, while his lifted head tossed restlessly. From his mouth frothed white foam and his feet moved quickly through the air like black flexible metal rods. The Major’s brown coat with its gold collar, his blue trousers and high boots were distinctly outlined in the center of the open spaces with their dark, autumnal coloring. We heard the hollow sound of the hoofs and the neighing of the horse, indeed it seemed to us that we heard even the smack of the Major’s lips and the peculiar swish of his boots against the straps.
“The Major is coming!” cried Ejem, and we all felt a sudden fear.
Vaněk moved a little in trying to arrange himself to
