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第15节

bruce-第15节

小说: bruce 字数: 每页4000字

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but he gave no other manifestation that he knew any one was

there。



〃Well; I'll be blessed!〃 snickered the Missourian in high

derision; as Bruce passed out of sight around an angle of the

trench。 〃So that's the pup who is such a pal of you fellows; is

he? Gee; but it was a treat to see how tickled he was to meet you

again!〃



To the rookie's amazement none of his hearers seemed in the least

chagrined over the dogs chilling disregard of them。 Instead;

Mahan actually grunted approbation。



〃He'll be back;〃 prophesied the Sergeant。 〃Don't you worry。 He'll

be back。 We ought to have had more sense than try to stop him

when he's on duty。 He has better discipline than the rest of us。

That's one of very first things they teach a courier…dogto pay

no attention to anybody; when he's on dispatch duty。 When Bruce

has delivered his message to the K。O。; he'll have the right to

hunt up his chums。 And no one knows it better'n Bruce himself。〃



〃It was a sina thoughtlessnessof me to hold the sugar at

him;〃 said old Vivier。 〃Ah; but he is a so good soldier; ce brave

Bruce! He look not to the left nor yet to the right; nor yet to

the so…desired sugar…lump。 He keep his head at attention! All but

the furry tips of his ears。 Them he has not yet taught to be good

soldiers。 They tremble; when he smell the sugar and the good

soup…bone。 They quiver like the little leaf。 But he keep on。 He…

…〃



There was a scurry of fast…cantering feet。 Around the angle of

the trench dashed Bruce。 Head erect; soft dark eyes shining with

a light of gay mischief; he galloped up to the grinning Sergeant

Vivier and stood。 The dog's great plume of a tail was wagging

violently。 His tulip ears were cocked。 His whole interest in life

was fixed on the precious lump of sugar which Vivier held out to

him。



From puppyhood; Bruce had adored lump sugar。 Even at The Place;

sugar had been a rarity for him; for the Mistress and the Master

had known the damage it can wreak upon a dog's teeth and

digestion。 Yet; once in a while; as a special luxury; the

Mistress had been wont to give him a solitary lump of sugar。



Since his arrival in France; the dog had never seen nor scented

such a thing until now。 Yet he did not jump for the gift。 He did

not try to snatch it from Vivier。 Instead; he waited until the

old Frenchman held it closer toward him; with the invitation:



〃Take it; mon vieux! It is for you。〃



Then and then only did Bruce reach daintily forward and grip the

grimy bit of sugar between his mighty jaws。 Vivier stroked the

collie's head while Bruce wagged his tail and munched the sugar

and blinked gratefully up at the donor。 Mahan looked on;

enviously。 〃A dog's got forty…two teeth; instead of the thirty…

two that us humans have to chew on;〃 observed the Sergeant。 〃A

vet' told me that once。 And sugar is bad for all forty…two of

'em。 Maybe you didn't know that; Monsoo Vivier? Likely; at this

rate; we'll have to chip in before long and buy poor Brucie a

double set of false teeth。 Just because you've put his real ones

out of business with lumps of sugar!〃



Vivier looked genuinely concerned at this grim forecast。 Bruce

wandered across to the place where the donor of the soup…bone

brandished his offering。 Other men; too; were crowding around

with gifts。



Between petting and feeding; the collie spent a busy hour among

his comrades…at…arms。 He was to stay with the 〃Here…We…Comes〃

until the following day; and then carry back to headquarters a

reconnaissance report。



At four o'clock that afternoon the sky was softly blue and the

air was unwontedly clear。 By five o'clock a gentle India…summer

haze blurred the world's sharper outlines。 By six a blanket…fog

rolled in; and the air was wetly unbreatheable。 The fog lay so

thick over the soggy earth that objects ten feet away were

invisible。



〃This;〃 commented Sergeant Mahan; 〃is one of the times I was

talking about this morningwhen eyes are no use。 This is sure

the country for fogs; in war…time。 The cockneys tell me the

London fogs aren't a patch on 'em。〃



The 〃Here…We…Comes〃 were encamped; for the while; at the edge of

a sector from whence all military importance had recently been

removed by a convulsive twist of a hundred…mile battle…front。 In

this dull hole…in…a…corner the new…arrived rivets were in process

of welding into the more veteran structure of the mixed regiment。



Not a quarter…mile awayacross No Man's Land and athwart two

barriers of barbed wirelay a series of German trenches。 Now; in

all probability; and from all outward signs; the occupants of

this boche position consisted only of a regiment or two which had

been so badly cut up; in a foiled drive; as to need a month of

non…exciting routine before going back into more perilous

service。



Yet the commander of the division to which the 〃Here…We…Comes〃

were attached did not trust to probabilities nor to outward

signs。 He had been at the front long enough to realize that the

only thing likely to happen was the thing which seemed

unlikeliest。 And he felt a morbid curiosity to learn more about

the personnel of those dormant German trenches。



Wherefore he had sent an order that a handful of the 〃Here…We…

Comes〃 go forth into No Man's Land; on the first favorable night;

and try to pick up a boche prisoner or two for questioning…

purposes。 A scouring of the doubly wired area between the hostile

lines might readily harvest some solitary sentinel or some other

man on special duty; or even the occupants of a listening…post。

And the division commander earnestly desired to question such

prisoner or prisoners。 The fog furnished an ideal night for such

an expedition。



Thus it was that a very young lieutenant and Sergeant Mahan and

ten privatesthe lanky Missourian among themwere detailed for

the prisoner…seeking job。 At eleven o'clock; they crept over the


top; single file。



It was a night wherein a hundred searchlights and a million star…

…flares would not have made more impression on the density of the

fog than would the striking of a safety match。 Yet the twelve

reconnoiterers were instructed to proceed in the cautious manner

customary to such nocturnal expeditions into No Man's Land。 They

moved forward at the lieutenant's order; tiptoeing abreast; some

twenty feet apart from one another; and advancing in three…foot

strides。 At every thirty steps the entire line was required to

halt and to reestablish contactin other words; to 〃dress〃 on

the l ieutenant; who was at the extreme right。



This maneuver was more time…wasting and less simple than its

recital would imply。 For in the dark; unaccustomed legs are

liable to miscalculation in the matter of length of stride; even

when shell…holes and other inequalities of ground do not

complicate the calculations still further。 And it is hard to

maintain a perfectly straight line when moving forward through

choking fog and over scores of obstacles。



The halts for realignment consumed much time and caused no little

confusion。 Nervousness began to encompass the Missouri recruit。

He was as brave as the next man。 But there is something creepy

about walking with measured tread through an invisible space;

with no sound but the stealthy pad…pad…pad of equally hesitant

footsteps twenty feet away on either side。 The Missourian was

grateful for the intervals that brought the men into mutual

contact; as the eerie march continued。



The first line of barbed wire was cut and passed。 Then followed

an endless groping progress across No Man's Land; and several

delays; as one man or another had trouble in finding contact with

his neighbor。



At last the party came to the German wires。 The lieutenant had

drawn on a rubber glove。 In his gloved hand he grasped a strip of

steel which he held in front of him; like a wand; fanning the air

with it。



As he came to the entanglement; he probed the barbed wire

carefully with his wand; watching for an ensuing spark。 For the

Germans more than once had been known to electrify their wires;

with fatal results to luckless prowlers。



These wires; to…night; were not charged。 And; with pliers; the

lieutenant and Mahan started to cut a passageway through them。



As the very first strand parted under his pressure; Mahan laid

one hand warningly on the lieutenant's sleeve; and then passed

the same prearranged warning down the line to the left。



Silencemoveless; tense; sharply listening silencefollowed his

motion。 Then the rest of the party heard the sound which Mahan's

keener ears had caught a moment earlierthe thud of many

marching feet。 Here was no furtive creeping; as when the twelve

Yankees had moved along。 Rather was it the rhythmic beat of at

least a hundred pairs of shapeless army bootsperhaps of more。

The unseen marchers were moving wordlessly; but with no effort at

muffling the even tread of their multiple feet。



〃They're coming th

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