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He
looked
very
small
,
dead
,
Robert
Jordan
thought
.
He
looked
small
and
gray
-
headed
and
Robert
Jordan
thought
,
I
wonder
how
he
ever
carried
such
big
loads
if
that
is
the
size
he
really
was
.
Then
he
saw
the
shape
of
the
calves
and
the
thighs
in
the
tight
,
gray
herdsman
’
s
breeches
and
the
worn
soles
of
the
rope
-
soled
shoes
and
he
picked
up
Anselmo
’
s
carbine
and
the
two
sacks
,
practically
empty
now
and
went
over
and
picked
up
the
rifle
that
lay
beside
Fernando
.
He
kicked
a
jagged
piece
of
steel
off
the
surface
of
the
road
.
Then
he
swung
the
two
rifles
over
his
shoulder
,
holding
them
by
the
muzzles
,
and
started
up
the
slope
into
the
timber
.
He
did
not
look
back
nor
did
he
even
look
across
the
bridge
at
the
road
.
They
were
still
firing
around
the
bend
below
but
he
cared
nothing
about
that
now
.
He
was
coughing
from
the
TNT
fumes
and
he
felt
numb
all
through
himself
.
He
put
one
of
the
rifles
down
by
Pilar
where
she
lay
behind
the
tree
.
She
looked
and
saw
that
made
three
rifles
that
she
had
again
.
"
You
are
too
high
up
here
,
"
he
said
.
"
There
’
s
a
truck
up
the
road
where
you
can
’
t
see
it
.
They
thought
it
was
planes
.
You
better
get
farther
down
.
I
’
m
going
down
with
Agustín
to
cover
Pablo
.
"
"
The
old
one
?
"
she
asked
him
,
looking
at
his
face
.
"
Dead
.
"
He
coughed
again
,
wrackingly
,
and
spat
on
the
ground
.
"
Thy
bridge
is
blown
,
Inglés
,
"
Pilar
looked
at
him
.
"
Don
’
t
forget
that
.
"
"
I
don
’
t
forget
anything
,
"
he
said
.
"
You
have
a
big
voice
,
"
he
said
to
Pilar
.
"
I
have
heard
thee
bellow
.
Shout
up
to
the
Maria
and
tell
her
that
I
am
all
right
.
"
"
We
lost
two
at
the
sawmill
,
"
Pilar
said
,
trying
to
make
him
understand
.
