The Baron's Sons: A Romance of the Hungarian Revolution of 1848Jókai, Mór
History
The Baron's Sons: A Romance of the Hungarian Revolution of 1848
Jókai, Mór
Hungary -- History -- Uprising of 1848-1849 -- Fiction
The hussars unsaddled their horses, and, while some of the men turned
blacksmiths and looked to the shoeing of their steeds, the rest betook
themselves to the kitchen, where, in an immense kettle hanging over
the fire, something was being cooked with much stirring and pouring in
of water, until the whole was of a uniform and proper consistency. The
technical name of this dish is "stirabout."
Meanwhile Richard had stationed outposts to guard against a surprise
from the enemy.
When the mush was done, a pole was put through the handle of the
kettle, twelve cavalry cloaks were spread out on the grass, and on
them the steaming food, which would not have tempted even a wolf's
hunger in its then scalding condition, was served with a great wooden
spoon. But just as the banqueters were about to sit down around the
white cloaks which did duty as table-cloths and plates in one, the
outposts came running in with the cry: "The cuirassiers are coming!"
To saddle and mount, first folding up the cloaks, stirabout and all,
and throwing them over the pommels, was the work of a moment. There
was not even time to take one taste of the savoury mess before the
men were up and away as fast as their horses could carry them. Without
pausing to choose his path, Richard galloped across country, over
stock and stubble, taking care only to hold his horse's head toward
the east, and spurring on his headlong flight until the sweat ran from
the animal's flanks.
"We shall kill all our horses," remarked old Paul, as he pressed hard
after his master and glanced back at the ragged line of cavalry behind
him. Some of the horses, indeed, broke down under this terrific pace,
whereupon the extra mounts were brought into service. It was well they
had not been left behind at the mill-dam.
The pursuers were in no better plight. On the highway it had been easy
for them to overtake the fugitives, as the latter were forced to make
numerous détours; but when they took to the ploughed fields it was a
different matter. Richard had been right in his reckoning; in the soft
and spongy soil the heavy cuirassiers could proceed only at a walk,
while the hussars were able to push forward at a trot.
Richard fell back and remained in the rear to hold all his men
together, and when any of them met with an accident he was prompt to
lend his aid. Thus he again came within earshot of Otto Palvicz.
Glancing back from time to time, he allowed the cuirassier major to
come near enough to make conversation possible.
"Stop a moment; I want to speak to you," called Palvicz.
"I can hear you very well as I am," answered Baradlay.
"If you are a brave man, don't run away from me like that."
"I am brave enough to run away so that you'll never catch me."
"That is cowardice. You are showing me your back."
"I shall have a look at yours one of these days."
"Will you stop and fight with me?"
"No; while we fought your men would overtake mine."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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