bruce(布鲁斯)-第17节
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a certainty； he has earned his welcome。〃
When Bruce； an hour later； trotted into the trenches； on the way to the
〃Here…We…Come〃 colonel's quarters； he was received like a visiting
potentate。 Dozens of men hailed him eagerly by name as he made his way
to his destination with the message affixed to his collar。
Many of these men were his well…remembered friends and comrades。
Mahan and Vivier； and one or two more； he had grown to likeas well as
he could like any one in that land of horrors； three thousand miles away
from The Place； where he was born； and from the Mistress and the Master；
who were his loyally worshiped gods。
Moreover； being only mortal and afflicted with a hearty appetite；
Bruce loved the food and other delicacies the men were forever offering
him as a variation on the stodgy fare dished out to him and his fellow war…
dogs。
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Bruce
As much to amuse and interest the soldiers whose hero he was； as for
any special importance in the dispatch he carried； Bruce had been sent
now to the trenches of the Here…We…Comes。 It was his first visit to the
regiment he had saved； since the days of the Rache assault two months
earlier。 Thanks to supremely clever surgery and to tender care； the dog was
little the worse for his wounds。 His hearing gradually had come back。 In
one shoulder he had a very slight stiffness which was not a limp； and a
new…healed furrow scarred the left side of his tawny coat。 Otherwise he
was as good as new。
As Bruce trotted toward the group that so recently had been talking of
him； the Missouri recruit watched with interest for the dog's joy at this
reunion with his old friends。 Bruce's snowy chest and black…stippled coat
were fluffed out by many recent baths。 His splendid head high and his
dark eyes bright； the collie advanced toward the group。
Mahan greeted him joyously。 Vivier stretched out a hand which
displayed temptingly the long…hoarded lump of sugar。 A third man
produced； from nowhere in particular； a large and meat…fringed soup…bone。
〃I wonder which of you he'll come to； first；〃 said the interested
Missourian。
The question was answered at once； and right humiliatingly。 For Bruce
did not falter in his swinging stride as he came abreast of the group。 Not
by so much as a second glance did he notice Mahan's hail and the
tempting food。
As he passed within six inches of the lump of sugar which Vivier was
holding out to him； the dog's silken ears quivered slightly； sure sign of
hard…repressed emotion in a thoroughbred collie； 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。
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Bruce
〃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；〃
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Bruce
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
