All his life he had been accustomed to peace. He thought of
wars as small affairs that broke out now and then in South America or
when the American Indians got hold of whiskey. But for Germany, France,
England to fight, to hurl millions of men at each other! It was
inconceivable!
The boy's brain felt numb as if crushed beneath an enormous horror. The
world was at war!
Unless a person actually witness a murder, he cannot imagine the shock
and dreadfulness of seeing one man shot down, writhe, gasp, grow pale
and cease struggling. To picture ten men murdered simply stuns the mind.
An effort to realize hundreds, thousands, millions of men mangled,
wounded, bayoneted, crushed, blown to atoms by shells and mine--all this
becomes vague, formless, a dim, dreadful picture that is as unreal as a
dream, or history.
"What caused it?" asked Madden in a strained tone.
"I don't know," whispered the mate huskily. "They say it all started
because an anarchist killed an Austrian prince, but I don't believe
it--that sounds too onreasonable for me."
"What has an Austrian prince to do with the rest of the nations?"
"I told you I don't believe it!" repeated the mate.
Madden felt impotent at the conclusion of the narrative. As long as he
had conceived himself to be attacking a force of pirates and thieves, he
was ready to board this great vessel, hunt for an engineer, or attempt
any desperate scheme.
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