...of the field after battle

He forces his way through the thicket, among clubs and dried brush and stakes. From card to card, the tale advances in brusque leaps which have somehow to be graduated. The wood ends suddenly. The open country stretches out all around, silent; it seems deserted in the evening's shadow. On closer inspection, you can see that it is crammed with men, a disorderly throng that covers it, leaving no corner clear. But it is a flattened crowd, as if smeared over the surface of the ground: none of these men are standing, they lie on their bellies or on their backs, unable to raise their heads higher than the trampled blades of grass.

[The Tavern Of Crossed Destinies, from The Castle Of Crossed Destinies, Calvino, I.]