You'd look fine," said a corporal, chaffing a thin little soldier who bent under the weight of his knapsack.

"Take a stick between your legs, that'll suit you for a horse!" the hussar shouted back.

The last of the infantry hurriedly crossed the bridge, squeezing together as they approached it as if passing through a funnel.

At last the baggage wagons had all crossed, the crush was less, and the last battalion came onto the bridge.

Only Denisov's squadron of hussars remained on the farther side of the bridge facing the enemy, who could be seen from the hill on the opposite bank but was not yet visible from the bridge, for the horizon as seen from the valley through which the river flowed was formed by the rising ground only half a mile away.