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le lay； bayonet forward on the road。 Robert Jordan looked away from the man lying with his head doubled under on the road to the bridge； and the sentry box at the other end。 He could not see the other sentry and he looked down the slope to the right where he knew Agust韓 was hidden。 Then he heard Anselmo shoot； the shot smashing an echo back from the gorge。 Then he heard him shoot again。
With that second shot came the cracking boom of grenades from around the corner below the bridge。 Then there was the noise of grenades from well up the road to the left。 Then he heard rifle…firing up the road and from below came the noise of Pablo's cavalry automatic rifle spat…spat…spat…spatting into the noise of grenades。 He saw Anselmo scrambling down the steep cut to the far end of the bridge and he slung the submachine gun over his shoulder and picked up the two heavy packs from behind the pine trunks and with one in each hand； the packs pulling his arms so that he felt the tendons would pull out of his shoulders； he ran lurching down the steep slope to the road。
As he ran he heard Agust韓 shouting； 〃_Buena caza； Ingl閟。 Buena caza！_〃 and he thought； 〃Nice hunting； like hell； nice hunting；〃 and just then he heard Anselmo shoot at the far end of the bridge； the noise of the shot clanging in the steel girders。 He passed the sentry where he lay and ran onto the bridge； the packs swinging。
The old man came running toward him； holding his carbine in one hand。 〃_Sin novedad_；〃 he shouted。 〃There's nothing wrong。 _Tuve que rematarlo_。 I had to finish him。〃
Robert Jordan； kneeling； opening the packs in the center of the bridge taking out his material； saw that tears were running down Anselmo's cheeks through the gray beard stubble。
〃_Yo mat椤no tambien_；〃 he said to Anselmo。 〃I killed one too；〃 and jerked his head toward where the sentry lay hunched over in the road at the end of the bridge。
〃Yes； man； yes；〃 Anselmo said。 〃We have to kill them and we kill them。〃
Robert Jordan was climbing down into the framework of the bridge。 The girders were cold and wet with dew under his hands and he climbed carefully； feeling the sun on his back； bracing himself in a bridge truss； hearing the noise of the tumbling water below him； hearing firing； too much firing； up the road at the upper post。 He was sweating heavily now and it was cool under the bridge。 He had a coil of wire around one arm and a pair of pliers hung by a thong from his wrist。
〃Hand me that down a package at a time； _viejo_；〃 he called up to Anselmo。 The old man leaned far over the edge handing down the oblong blocks of explosive and Robert Jordan reached up for them； shoved them in where he wanted them； packed them close； braced them； 〃Wedges； _viejo！_ Give me wedges！〃 smelling the fresh shingle smell of the new whittled wedges as he tapped them in tight to hold the charge between the girders。
Now as he worked； placing； bracing； wedging； lashing tight with wire； thinking only of demolition； working fast and skillfully as a surgeon works； he heard a rattle of firing from below on the road。 Then there was the noise of a grenade。 Then another； booming through the rushing noise the water made。 Then it was quiet from that direction。
〃Damn；〃 he thought。 〃I wonder what hit them then？〃
There was still firing up the road at the upper post。 Too damned much firing； and he was lashing two grenades side by side on top of the braced blocks of explosive； winding wire over their corrugations so they would hold tight and firm and lashing it tight； twisting it with the pliers。 He felt of the whole thing and then； to make it more solid； tapped in a wedge above the grenades that blocked the whole charge firmly in against the steel。
〃The other side now； _viejo_；〃 he shouted up to Anselmo and climbed across through the trestling； like a bloody Tarzan in a rolled steel forest； he thought； and then coming out from under the dark； the stream tumbling below him； he looked up and saw Anselmo's face as he reached the packages of explosive down to him。 Goddamn good face； he thought。 Not crying now。 That's all to the good。 And one side done。 This side now and we're done。 This will drop it like what all。 Come on。 Don't get excited。 Do it。 Clean and fast as the last one。 Don't fumble with it。 Take your time。 Don't try to do it faster than you can。 You can't lose now。 Nobody can keep you from blowing one side now。 You're doing it just the way you should。 This is a cool place。 Christ； it feels cool as a wine cellar and there's no crap。 Usually working under a stone bridge it's full of crap。 This is a dream bridge。 A bloody dream bridge。 It's the old man on top who's in a bad spot。 Don't try to do it faster than you can。 I wish that shooting would be over up above。 〃Give me some wedges； _viejo_。〃 I don't like that shooting still。 Pilar has got in trouble there。 Some of the post must have been out。 Out back； or behind the mill。 They're still shooting。 That means there's somebody still at the mill。 And all that damned sawdust。 Those big piles of sawdust。 Sawdust； when it's old and packed； is good stuff to fight behind。 There must be several of them still。 It's quiet below with Pablo。 I wonder what that second flare…up was。 It must have been a car or a motorcyclist。 I hope to God they don't have any armored cars come up or any tanks。 Go on。 Put it in just as fast as you can and wedge it tight and lash it fast。 You're shaking； like a Goddamn woman。 What the hell is the matter with you？ You're trying to do it too fast。 I'll bet that Goddamn woman up above isn't shaking。 That Pilar。 Maybe she is too。 She sounds as though she were in plenty trouble。 She'll shake if she gets in enough。 Like everybody bloody else。
He leaned out and up into the sunlight and as he reached his hand up to take what Anselmo handed him； his head now above the noise of the falling water； the firing increased sharply up the road and then the noise of grenades again。 Then more grenades。
〃They rushed the sawmill then。〃
It's lucky I've got this stuff in blocks； he thought。 Instead of sticks。 What the hell。 It's just neater。 Although a lousy canvas sack full of jelly would be quicker。 Two sacks。 No。 One of that would do。 And if we just had detonators and the old exploder。 That son of a bitch threw my exploder in the river。 That old box and the places that it's been。 In this river he threw it。 That bastard Pablo。 He gave them hell there below just now。 〃Give me some more of that； _viejo_。〃
The old man's doing very well。 He's in quite a place up there。 He hated to shoot that sentry。 So did I but I didn't think about it。 Nor do I think about it now。 You have to do that。 But then Anselmo got a cripple。 I know about cripples。 I think that killing a man with an automatic weapon makes it easier。 I mean on the one doing it。 It is different。 After the first touch it is it that does it。 Not you。 Save that to go into some other time。 You and your head。 You have a nice thinking head old Jordan。 Roll Jordan； Roll！ They used to yell that at football when you lugged the ball。 Do you know the damned Jordan is really not much bigger than that creek down there below。 At the source； you mean。 So is anything else at the source。 This is a place here under