bruce-第13节
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Mahan talked jubilantly。 The same jubilation ran all along the
line of victors。 But the colonel and his staff were not
rejoicing。 They had just learned of the withdrawal of the forces
to either side of them； and they knew they themselves could not
hope to stand against a second and larger charge。
Such a charge the enemy were certain to make。 The Germans； too；
must soon learn of the defection of the supports。 It was now only
a question of an hour or less before a charge with a double…
enveloping movement would surround and bag the Here…We…Comes；
catching the whole regiment in an inescapable trap。
To fall back； now； up that long bare hillside； under full fire of
the augmented German artillery； would mean a decimating of the
entire command。 The Here…We…Comes could not retreat。 They could
not hope to hold their ground。 The sole chance for life lay in
the arrival of strong reenforcements from the rear； to help them
hold the trenches until night； or to man the supporting
positions。 Reserves were within easy striking distance。 But； as
happened so many times in the war； there was no routine way to
summon them in time。
It was the chance sight of a crumpled message lying on his
dugout…table that reminded the colonel of Bruce's existence and
of his presence in the front trench。 It was a matter of thirty
seconds for the colonel to scrawl an urgent appeal and a brief
statement of conditions。 Almost as soon as the note was ready； an
orderly appeared at the dugout entrance； convoying the newly
awakened Bruce。
The all…important message was fastened in place。 The colonel
himself went to the edge of the traverse； and with his own arms
lifted the eighty…pound collie to the top。
There was tenderness as well as strength in the lifting arms。 As
he set Bruce down on the brink； the colonel said； as if speaking
to a fellow…human：
〃I hate to do it； old chap。 I HATE to！ There isn't one chance in
three of your getting all the way up the hill alive。 But there
wouldn't be one chance in a hundred； for a MAN。 The boches will
be on the lookout for just this move。 And their best
sharpshooters will be waiting for youeven if you dodge the
shrapnel and the rest of the artillery。 I'm sorry！ Andgood…by。〃
Then； tersely； he rasped out the command
〃Bruce！ Headquarters！ Headquarters！ QUICK！〃
At a bound； the dog was gone。
Breasting the rise of the hill； Bruce set off at a sweeping run；
his tawny…and…white mane flying in the wind。
A thousand eyes； from the Here…We…Come trenches； watched his
flight。 And as many eyes from the German lines saw the huge
collie's dash up the coverless slope。
Scarce had Bruce gotten fairly into his stride when the boche
bullets began to singnot a desultory little flurry of shots； as
before； but by the score； and with a murderous earnestness。 When
he had appeared； on his way to the trenches； an hour earlier； the
Germans had opened fire on him； merely for their own amusement
upon the same merry principle which always led them to shoot at
an Ally war…dog。 But now they understood his all…important
mission； and they strove with their best skill to thwart it。
The colonel of the Here…We…Comes drew his breath sharply between
his teeth。 He did not regret the sending of the collie。 It had
been a move of stark military necessity。 And there was an off
chance that it might mean the saving of his whole command。
But the colonel was fond of Bruce； and it angered him to hear the
frantic effort of the boche marksmen to down so magnificent a
creature。 The bullets were spraying all about the galloping dog；
kicking up tiny swirls of dust at his heels and in front of him
and to either side。
Mahan； watching； with streaming eyes and blaspheming lips；
recalled the French sergeant's theory that Bruce bore a charmed
life。 And he prayed that Vivier might be right。 But in his prayer
was very little faith。 For under such a fusillade it seemed
impossible that at least one highpower bullet should not reach
the collie before the slope could be traversed。 A fast…running
dog is not an easy mark for a bulletespecially if the dog be a
collie； with a trace of wolfancestry in his gait。 A dog； at
best； does not gallop straight ahead as does a horse。 There is
almost always a sidewise lilt to his run。
Bruce was still further aided by the shell…plowed condition of
the hillside。 Again and again he had to break his stride； to leap
some shell…hole。 Often he had to encircle such holes。 More than
once he bounded headlong down into a gaping crater and scrambled
up its far side。 These erratic moves； and the nine…hundred…yard
distance （a distance that was widening at every second） made the
sharpshooters' task anything but an exact science。
Mahan's gaze followed the dog's every step。 Bruce had cleared
more than three…fourths of the slope。 The top…sergeant permitted
himself the luxury of a broad grin。
〃I'll buy Vivier all the red…ink wine he can gargle； next pay…
day！〃 he vowed。 〃He was dead right about the dog。 No bullet was
ever molded that can get〃
Mahan broke off in his exultation； with an explosive oath； as a
new note in the firing smote upon his trained hearing。
〃The swine！〃 he roared。 〃The filthy； unsportsmanly； dog…eating
Prussian swine！ They're turning MACHINE…GUNS on him！〃
In place of the intermittent rattle of rifleshots now came the
purring cough of rapidfire guns。 The bullets hit the upper
hillside in swathes； beginning a few yards behind the flying
collie and moving upward toward him like a sweeping of an unseen
scythe。
〃That's the wind…up！〃 groaned Mahan。 〃Lord； send me an even break
against one of those Hun machinegunners some day！ If〃
Again Mahan failed to finish his train of thought。 He stared
open…mouthed up the hill。 Almost at the very summit； within a rod
or two of the point where the crest would intervene between him
and his foes； Bruce whirled in mid…air and fell prone。
The fast…following swaths of machine…gun bullets had not reached
him。 But another German enemy had。 From behind a heap of offal；
on the crest； a yellow…gray dog had sprung； and had launched
himself bodily upon Bruce's flank as the unnoticing collie had
flashed past him。
The assailant was an enormous and hyena…like German police…dog。
He was one of the many of his breed that were employed （for work
or food） in the German camps； and which used to sneak away from
their hard…kicking soldier…owners to ply a more congenial trade
as scavengers； and as seekers for the dead。 For； in traits as
well as in looks； the police…dog often emulates the ghoulish
hyena。
Seeing the approaching collie （always inveterate foe of his
kind）； the police…dog had gauged the distance and had launched
his surprise attack with true Teuton sportsmanship and
efficiency。 Down went Bruce under the fierce weight that crashed
against his shoulder。 But before the other could gain his coveted
throat…grip； Bruce was up again。 Like a furry whirlwind he was at
the police…dog； fighting more like a wolf than a civilized collie
tearing into his opponent with a maniac rage； snapping；
slashing； his glittering white fangs driving at a dozen
vulnerable points in a single second。
It was as though Bruce knew he had no time to waste from his
life…and…death mission。 He could not elude this enemy； so he must
finish him as quickly as possible。
〃Give me your rifle！〃 sputtered Mahan to the soldier nearest him。
〃I'll take one potshot at that Prussian cur； before the machine…
guns get the two of 'em。 Even if I hit Bruce by mistake； he'd
rather die by a Christian Yankee…made bullet than〃
Just then the scythelike machine…gun fire reached the hillcrest
combatants。 And in the same instant a shell smote the ground；
apparently between them。 Up went a geyser of smoke and dirt and
rocks。 When the cloud settled； there was a deep gully in the
ground where a moment earlier Bruce and the police…dog had waged
their death…battle。
〃That settles it！〃 muttered the colonel。
And he went to make ready for such puny defense as his men might
hope to put up against the German rush。
While these futile preparations were still under way； terrific
artillery fire burst from the Allied batteries behind the hill；
shielding the Here…We…Come trenches with a curtain of fire whose
lower folds draped themselves right unlovingly around the German
lines。 Under cover of this barrage； down the hill swarmed the
Allied reserves！
〃How did you get word？〃 demanded the astonished colonel of the
Here…We…Comes； later in the day。
〃From your note； of course；〃 replied the general he had
questioned。 〃The collieold Bruce。〃
〃Bruce？〃 babbled the colonel foolishly。
〃Of course；〃 answered the general。 〃Who else？ But I'm afraid it's
the last message he'll ever deliver。 He came rolling and
staggering up to headquartersone mass of blood； and t
