bruce-第13章

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daily　lessons。



At　the　end　of　three　months；　he　was　shipped　to　France。　There　his

seemingly　aimless　studies　at　the　training　camp　were　put　to　active

use。



　*　*　*　*　*　*　*　*　*　*



At　the　foot　of　the　long　Flanders　hill…slope　the　〃Here…We…Come〃

Regiment；　of　mixed　American　and　French　infantry；　held　a

caterpillar…shaped　line　of　trenches。



To　the　right；　a　few　hundred　yards　away；　was　posted　a　Lancashire

regiment；　supported　by　a　battalion　from　Cornwall。　On　the　left

were　two　French　regiments。　In　front；　facing　the　hill…slope　and

not　a　half…mile　distant；　was　the　geometric　arrangement　of

sandbags　that　marked　the　contour　of　the　German　first…line

trenches。



The　hill　behind　them；　the　boches　in　front　of　them；　French　and

British　troops　on　either　side　of　themthe　Here…We…Comes　were

helping　to　defend　what　was　known　as　a　〃quiet'　sector。　Behind　the

hill；　and　on　loftier　heights　far　to　the　rear；　the　Allied

artillery　was　posted。　Somewhere　in　the　same　general　locality　lay

a　division　of　British　reserves。



It　is　almost　a　waste　of　words　to　have　described　thus　the

surroundings　of　the　Here…We…Comes。　For；　with　no　warning　at　all；

those　entire　surroundings　were　about　to　be　changed。



Ludendorff　and　his　little　playmates　were　just　then　engaged　in　the

congenial　sport　of　delivering　unexpected　blows　at　various

successive　points　of　the　Allied　line；　in　an　effort　to　find　some

spot　that　was　soft　enough　to　cave　in　under　the　impact　and　let

through　a　horde　of　gray…clad　Huns。　And　though　none　of　the

defenders　knew　it；　this　〃quiet〃　sector　had　been　chosen　for　such　a

minor　blow。



The　men　in　higher　command；　back　there　behind　the　hill　crest；　had

a　belated　inkling；　though；　of　a　proposed　attack　on　the　lightly

defended　front　trenches。　For　the　Allied　airplanes　which　drifted

in　the　upper　heavens　like　a　scattered　handful　of　dragon…flies

were　not　drifting　there　aimlessly。　They　were　the　eyes　of　the

snakelike　columns　that　crawled　so　blindly　on　the　scarred　brown

surface　of　the　earth。　And　those　〃eyes〃　had　discerned　the　massing

of　a　force　behind　the　German　line　had　discerned　and　had　duly

reported　it。



The　attack　might　come　in　a　day。　It　might　not　come　in　a　week。　But

it　was　comingunless　the　behind…the…lines　preparations　were　a

gigantic　feint。



A　quiet　dawn；　in　the　quiet　trenches　of　the　quiet　sector。

Desultory　artillery　and　somewhat　less　desultory　sniping　had

prevailed　throughout　the　night；　and　at　daybreak；　but　nothing　out

of　the　ordinary。



Two　men　on　listening…post　had　been　shot；　and　so　had　an

overcurious　sentry　who　peeped　just　an　inch　too　far　above　a

parapet。　A　shell　had　burst　in　a　trench；　knocking　the　telephone

connection　out　of　gear　and　half　burying　a　squad　of　sleepers　under

a　lot　of　earth。　Otherwise；　things　were　drowsily　dull。



In　a　dugout　sprawled　Top…Sergeant　Mahan；formerly　of　Uncle　Sam's

regular　army；　playing　an　uninspiring　game　of　poker　with　Sergeant

Dale　of　his　company　and　Sergeant　Vivier　of　the　French　infantry。

The　Frenchman　was　slow　in　learning　poker's　mysteries。



And；　anyway；　all　three　men　were　temporarily　penniless　and　were

forced　to　play　for　I。O。U'swhich　is　stupid　sport；　at　best。



So　when；　from　the　German　line；　came　a　quick　sputt…sputt…sputt

from　a　half…dozen　sharpshooters'　rifles；　all　three　men　looked　up

from　their　desultory　game　in　real　interest。　Mahan　got　to　his　feet

with　a　grunt。



〃Some　other　fool　has　been　trying　to　see　how　far　he　can　rubber

above　the　sandbags　without　drawing　boche　fire；〃　he　hazarded；

starting　out　to　investigate。　〃It's　a　miracle　to　me　how　a　boche

bullet　can　go　through　heads　that　are　so　full　of　first…quality

ivory　as　those　rubberers'。〃



But　Mahan's　strictures　were　quite　unwarranted。　The　sharpshooters

were　not　firing　at　the　parapet。　Their　scattering　shots　were

flying　high；　and　hitting　against　the　slope　of　the　hill　behind　the

trenches。



Adown　this　shellpocked　hillside；　as　Mahan　and　the　other

disturbed　idlers　gazed；　came　cantering　a　huge　dark…brown…and…

white　collie。　The　morning　wind　stirred　the　black　stippling　that

edged　his　tawny　fur；　showing　the　gold…gray　undercoat　beneath　it。

His　white　chest　was　like　a　snowdrift；　and　offered　a　fine　mark　for

the　German　rifles。　A　bullet　or　two　sang　whiningly　past　his　gayly

up…flung　head。



A　hundred　voices　from　the　Here…We…Come　trenches　hailed　the

advancing　dog。



〃Why；　it's　Bruce！〃　cried　Mahan　in　glad　welcome。　〃I　might　'a'

known　he　or　another　of　the　collies　would　be　along。　I　might　'a'

known　it；　when　the　telephones　went　out　of　commission。　He〃



〃Regardez…donc！〃　interrupted　the　admiring　Vivier。　〃He　acts　like

bullets　was　made　of　flies！　Mooch　he　care　for　boche　lead…pills；　ce

brave　vieux！〃



〃Yes；〃　growled　Dale　worriedly；　〃and　one　of　these　days　a　bullet

will　find　its　way　into　that　splendid　carcass　of　his。　He's　been

shot　at；　a　thousand　times；　to　my　own　knowledge。　And　all　I　ask　is

a　chance；　with　a　rifle…butt；　at　the　skull　of　the　Hun　who　downs

him！〃



〃Downs　Bruce？〃　queried　Vivier　in　fine　scorn。　〃The　boche　he　is　no

borned　who　can　do　it。　Bruce　has　what　you　call　it；　in　Ainglish；

the　'charm　life。'　He　go　safe；　where　other　caniche　be　pepper…

potted　full　of　holes。　I've　watch　heem。　I　know。〃



Unscathed　by　the　several　shots　that　whined　past　him；　Bruce　came

to　a　halt　at　the　edge　of　a　traverse。　There　he　stood；　wagging　his

plume　of　a　tail　in　grave　friendliness；　while　a　score　of　khaki…

clad　arms　reached　up　to　lift　him　bodily　into　the　trench。



A　sergeant　unfastened　the　message　from　the　dog's　collar　and

posted　off　to　the　colonel　with　it。



The　message　was　similar　to　one　which　had　been　telephoned　to　each

of　the　supporting　bodies；　to　right　and　to　left　of　the　Here…We…

Comes。　It　bade　the　colonel　prepare　to　withdraw　his　command　from

the　front　trenches　at　nightfall；　and　to　move　back　on　the　main

force　behind　the　hill…crest。　The　front　trenches　were　not

important；　and　they　were　far　too　lightly　manned　to　resist　a　mass

attack。　Wherefore　the　drawing…in　and　consolidating　of　the　whole

outflung　line。



Bruce；　his　work　done　now；　had　leisure　to　respond　to　the　countless

offers　of　hospitality　that　encompassed　him。　One　man　brought　him　a

slice　of　cold　broiled　bacon。　Another　spread　pork…grease　over　a

bit　of　bread　and　proffered　it。　A　third　unearthed　from　some

sacredly　guarded　hiding…place　an　excessively　stale　half…inch

square　of　sweet　chocolate。



Had　the　dog　so　chosen；　he　might　then　and　there　have　eaten　himself

to　death　on　the　multitude　of　votive　offerings。　But　in　a　few

minutes　he　had　had　enough；　and　he　merely　sniffed　in　polite

refusal　at　all　further　gifts。



〃See？〃　lectured　Mahan。　〃That's　the　beast　of　it！　When　you　say　a

fellow　eats　or　drinks　'like　a　beast；'　you　ought　to　remember　that

a　beast　won't　eat　or　drink　a　mouthful　more　than　is　good　for　him。〃



〃Gee！〃　commented　the　somewhat　corpulent　Dale。　〃I'm　glad　I'm　not　a

beastespecially　on　pay…day。〃



Presently　Bruce　tired　of　the　ovation　tendered　him。　These　ovations

were　getting　to　be　an　old　story。　They　had　begun　as　far　back　as

his　training…camp　dayswhen　the　story　of　his　joining　the　army

was　told　by　the　man　to　whom　The　Place's　guest　had　written

commending　the　dog　to　the　trainers'　kindness。



At　the　training…camp　this　story　had　been　reenforced　by　the　chief

collie…teachera　dour　little　Hieland　Scot　named　McQuibigaskie；

who　on　the　first　day　declared　that　the　American　dog　had　more

sense　and　more　promise　and　more　soul　〃than　a'　t'other　tykes　south

o'　Kirkcudbright　Brae。〃



Being　only　mortal；　Bruce　found　it　pleasanter　to　be　admired　and

petted　than　ignored　or　kicked。　He　was　impersonally　friendly　with

the　soldiers；　when　he　was　off　duty；　and　he　relished　the　dainties

they　were　forever　thrusting　at　him。



But　at　times　his　soft　eyes　would　grow　dark　with　homesickness　for

the　quiet　loveliness　of　The　Place　and　for　the　Mistress　and　the

Master　who　were　his　loyally　worshiped　gods。　Life　had　been　so

happy　and　so　sweetly　uneventful　for　him；　at　The　Place！　And　there