VIII
BOBRUISK
AND behold, we are in the province of Minsk.
Look, over there is where it began.
We go along the high-road at a footpace, as if in a town amid heavy traffic.
They are driving cattle along the road.
They drive the cattle here also, and sell them at the "points" to make soup for refugees.
The hungry cows blunder among the carts, and put up their forefeet on to the backs of them in order to pull out hay.
Cattle, relief cars, stray horses wandering about by themselves, peasant
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