But there is one thought which every white man (and in this connection it doesn't matter twopence if he calls himself a socialist) thinks when he sees a black army marching past. "How much longer can we go on kidding these people? How long before they turn their guns in the other direction?"
然而，无论哪一个白人(哪怕是那些自称为社会主义者的人也不例外)，当他望着一支黑人军队从身边开过时，都会想到同一桩事："我们还能愚弄他们多久?他们倒戈相向的日子离现在还有多远?"
It was curious really. Every white man there had this thought stowed somewhere or other in his mind. I had it, so had the other onlookers, so had the officers on their sweating chargers and the white N. C. Os marching in the ranks. It was a kind of secret which we all knew and were too clever to tell; only the Negroes didn't know it. And really it was like watching a flock of cattle to see the long column, a mile or two miles of armed men, flowing peacefully up the road, while the great white birds drifted over them in the opposite direction, glittering like scraps of Paper.
真是怪有意思的。在场的每一个白人心里都有着这样一个共同的心思。我有，其他旁观者也有，骑在汗涔涔的战马上的军官们有，走在队伍中的白人军士也有。这是大家心里都明白而有彼此心照不宣的秘密，只有那些黑人对此尚茫然不知。看着这列一两英里长的队伍静静地向前开进，真好像看着一群牛羊一样，而那掠过它们头顶、朝着相反方向高翔的大白鹳恰似片片碎纸在空中泛着点点银光。