bruce-第11章
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Master。 〃I'll send word to Roberts not to bring up the car。〃
As he spoke; he scrawled a penciled line on an envelope…back;
then he whistled。
From a cool lounging…place beneath the wistaria…vines arose a
huge colliestately of form; dark brown and white of coat; deep…
set of eye and with a head that somehow reminded one of a
Landseer engraving。 The collie trotted up the steps of the
veranda and stood expectant before the Master。 The latter had
been folding the envelope lengthwise。 Now he slipped it through
the ring in the dog's collar。
〃Give it to Roberts;〃 he said。
The big collie turned and set off at a hand…gallop。
〃Good!〃 approved the guest。 〃Bruce didn't seem to be in any doubt
as to what you wanted him to do。 He knows where Roberts is likely
to be?〃
〃No;〃 said the Master。 〃But he can track him and find him; if
Roberts is anywhere within a mile or so from here。 That was one
of the first things we taught himto carry messages。 All we do
is to slip the paper into his collar…ring and tell him the name
of the person to take it to。 Naturally; he knows us all by name。
So it is easy enough for him to do it。 We look on the trick as
tremendously clever。 But that's because we love Bruce。 Almost any
dog can be taught to do it; I suppose。 We〃
〃You're mistaken!〃 corrected the guest。 〃Almost any dog CAN'T be
taught to。 Some dogs can; of course; but they are the exception。
I ought to know; for I've been where dog…couriers are a decidedly
important feature of trench…warfare。 I stopped at one of the dog…
training schools in England; too; on my way back from Picardy;
and watched the teaching of the dogs that are sent to France and
Flanders。 Not one in ten can be trained to carry messages; and
not one in thirty can be counted on to do it reliably。 You ought
to be proud of Bruce。〃
〃We are;〃 replied the Mistress。 〃He is one of the family。 We
think everything of him。 He was such a stupid and awkward puppy;
too! Then; in just a few months; he shaped up; as he is now。 And
his brain woke。〃
Bruce interrupted the talk by reappearing on the veranda。 The
folded envelope was still in the ring on his collar。 The guest
glanced furtively at the Master; expecting some sign of chagrin
at the collie's failure。
Instead; the Master took the envelope; unfolded it and glanced at
a word or two that had been written beneath his own scrawl; then
he made another penciled addition to the envelope's writing;
stuck the twisted paper back into the ring and said
〃Roberts。〃
Off trotted Bruce on his second trip。
〃I had forgotten to say which train you'll have to take in the
morning;〃 explained the Master。 〃So Roberts wrote; asking what
time he was to have the car at the door after breakfast。 It was
careless of me。〃
The guest did not answer。 But when Bruce presently returned;
this time with no paper in his collar…ring;the officer passed
his hand appraisingly through the dog's heavy coat and looked
keenly down into his dark eyes。
〃Gun…shy?〃 asked the guest。 〃Or perhaps he's never heard a gun
fired?〃
〃He's heard hundreds of guns fired;〃 said the Master。 〃I never
allow a gun to be fired on The Place; of course; because we've
made it a bird refuge。 But Bruce went with us in the car to the
testing of the Lewis machineguns; up at Haskell。 They made a most
ungodly racket。 But somehow it didn't seem to bother the Big Dog
at all。〃
〃H'm!〃 mused the guest; his professional interest vehemently
roused。 〃He would be worth a fortune over there。 There are a lot
of collies in the service; in one capacity or anotheralmost as
many as the Airedales and the police dogs。 And they are doing
grand work。 But I never saw one that was better fitted for it
than Bruce。 It's a pity he lives on the wrong side of the
Atlantic。 He could do his bit; to more effect than the average
human。 There are hundreds of thousands of men for the ranks; but
pitifully few perfect courier…dogs。〃
The Mistress was listening with a tensity which momentarily grew
more painful。 The Master's forehead; too; was creased with a new
thought that seemed to hurt him。 To break the brief silence that
followed the guest's words; he asked:
〃Are the dogs; over there; really doing such great work as the
papers say they are? I read; the other day〃
〃 'Great work!'〃 repeated the guest。 〃I should say so。 Not only
in finding the wounded and acting as guards on listening posts;
and all that; but most of all as couriers。 There are plenty of
times when the wireless can't be used for sending messages from
one point to another; and where there is no telephone connection;
and where the firing is too hot for a human courier to get
through。 That is where is the war dogs have proved their weight
in radium。 Collies; mostly。 There are a; million true stories of
their prowess told; at camp…fires。 Here are just two such
incidentsboth of them on record; by the way; at the British War
Office
〃A collie; down near Soissons; was sent across a bad strip of
fire…scourged ground; with a message。 A boche sharpshooter fired
at him and shattered his jaw。 The dog kept on; in horrible agony;
and delivered the message。 Another collie was sent over a still
hotter and much longer stretch of territory with a message。 (That
was during the Somme drive of 1916。) He was shot at; a dozen
times; as he ran。 At last two bullets got him。 He fell over;
mortally wounded。 He scrambled to his feet and kept on falling;
stumbling; staggeringtill he got to his destination。 Then he
dropped dead at the side of the Colonel the message had been sent
to。 And those are only two of thousands of true collie…anecdotes。
Yet some fools are trying to get American dogs done away with; as
'non…utilitarian;' while the war lasts! As if the dogs in France;
today; weren't earning their overseas brothers' right to live
and live well!〃
Neither of his hearers made reply when the guest finished his
earnest; eager recital。 Neither of them had paid much heed to his
final words。 For the Master and the Mistress were looking at each
other in mute unhappiness。 The same miserable thought was in the
mind of each。 And each knew the thought that was torturing the
mind of the other。
Presently; at a glint of inquiry in the Master's eye; the
Mistress suddenly bent over and buried her face in the deep mass
of Bruce's ruff as the dog stood lovingly beside her。 Then; still
stroking the collie's silken head; she returned her husband's
wretchedly questioning glance with a resigned little nod。 The
Master cleared his throat noisily before he could speak with the
calm indifference he sought。 Then; turning to the apparently
unnoticing guest; he said
〃I think I told you I tried to get across to France at the very
startand I was barred because I am past forty and because I
have a bum heart and several other defects that a soldier isn't
supposed to have。 My wife and I have tried to do what little we
can for the Cause; on this side of the ocean。 But it has seemed
woefully little; when we remember what others are doing。 And we
have no son we can send。〃
Again he cleared his throat and went on with sulky
ungraciousness:
〃We both know what you've been driving at for the past five
minutes。 Andand we agree。 Bruce can go。〃
〃Great!〃 applauded the guest。 〃That's fine! He'll be worth his〃
〃If you think we're a couple of fools for not doing this more
willingly;〃 went on the Master with savage earnestness; 〃just
stop to think what it means to a man to give up the dog he loves。
Not to give him up to some one who will assure him a good home;
but to send him over into that hell; where a German bullet or a
shell…fragment or hunger or disease is certain to get him; soon
or late。 To think of him lying smashed and helpless; somewhere in
No Man's Land; waiting for death; or caught by the enemy and
eaten! (The Red Cross bulletin says no less than eight