第1部分(第1/7 頁)

by　Ernest　Hemingway

1

In　the　late　summer　of　that　year　we　lived　in　a　house　in　a　village　that　looked　across　the　river　and　the　plain　to　the　mountains。　In　the　bed　of　the　river　there　were　pebbles　and　boulders；　dry　and　white　in　the　sun；　and　the　water　was　clear　and　swiftly　moving　and　blue　in　the　channels。　Troops　went　by　the　house　and　down　the　road　and　the　dust　they　raised　powdered　the　leaves　of　the　trees。　The　trunks　of　the　trees　too　were　dusty　and　the　leaves　fell　early　that　year　and　we　saw　the　troops　marching　along　the　road　and　the　dust　rising　and　leaves；　stirred　by　the　breeze；　falling　and　the　soldiers　marching　and　afterward　the　road　bare　and　white　except　for　the　leaves。

The　plain　was　rich　with　crops；　there　were　many　orchards　of　fruit　trees　and　beyond　the　plain　the　mountains　were　brown　and　bare。　There　was　fighting　in　the　mountains　and　at　night　we　could　see　the　flashes　from　the　artillery。　In　the　dark　it　was　like　summer　lightning；　but　the　nights　were　cool　and　there　was　not　the　feeling　of　a　storm　ing。

Sometimes　in　the　dark　we　heard　the　troops　marching　under　the　window　and　guns　going　past　pulled　by　motor…tractors。　There　was　much　traffic　at　night　and　many　mules　on　the　roads　with　boxes　of　ammunition　on　each　side　of　their　pack…saddles　and　gray　motor　trucks　that　carried　men；　and　other　trucks　with　loads　covered　with　canvas　that　moved　slower　in　the　traffic。　There　were　big　guns　too　that　passed　in　the　day　drawn　by　tractors；　the　long　barrels　of　the　guns　covered　with　green　branches　and　green　leafy　branches　and　vines　laid　over　the　tractors。　To　the　north　we　could　look　across　a　valley　and　see　a　forest　of　chestnut　trees　and　behind　it　another　mountain　on　this　side　of　the　river。　There　was　fighting　for　that　mountain　too；　but　it　was　not　successful；　and　in　the　fall　wh