bruce-第15章

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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　three

inches　thick　with　caked　dirt。　His　right　side　was　torn　open　from　a

shell…wound；　and　he　had　two　machine…gun　bullets　in　his　shoulder。

He's　deaf　as　a　post；　too；　from　shell…shock。　He　tumbled　over　in　a

heap　on　the　steps　of　headquarters。　But　he　GOT　there。　That's

Bruce；　all　over。　That's　the　best　type　of　collie；　all　over。　Some

of　us　were　for　putting　him　out　of　his　misery　with　a　shot　through

the　head。　We'd　have　done　it；　too；　if　it　had　been　any　other　dog。

But　the　surgeon…general　waded　in　and　took　a　hand　in　the　game

carried　Bruce　to　his　own　quarters。　We　left　him　working　over　the

dog　himself。　And　he　swears　Bruce　will　pull　through！〃







CHAPTER　IV。　When　Eyes　Were　No　Use



〃Yes；　it's　an　easy　enough　trade　to　pick　up；〃　lectured　Top…

Sergeant　Mahan；　formerly　of　the　regular　army。　〃You've　just　got　to

remember　a　few　things。　But　you've　got　to　keep　on　remembering

those　few；　all　the　time。　If　you　forget　one　of　'em；　it's　the　last

bit　of　forgetting　you're　ever　likely　to　do。〃



Top…Sergeant　Mahan；　of　the　mixed　French…and…American　regiment

known　as　〃Here…We…Come；〃　was　squatting　at　ease　on　the　trench

firing　step。　From　that　professorial　seat　he　was　dispensing

useful　knowledge　to　a　group　of　fellow…countrymen…newly　arrived

from　the　base；　to　pad　the　〃Here…We…Come〃　ranks；　which　had　been

thinned　at　the　Rache　attack。



〃What　sort　of　things　have　we　got　to　remember；　Sergeant？〃　jauntily

asked　a　lanky　Missourian。　〃　We've　got　the　drill　pretty　pat；　and

the　trench　instructions　and〃



〃Gee！〃　ejaculated　Mahan。　〃I　had　no　idea　of　that！　Then　why　don't

you　walk　straight　ahead　into　Berlin？　If　you　know　all　you　say　you

do；　about　war；　there's　nothing　more　for　you　to　learn。　I'll　drop　a

line　to　General　Foch　and　suggest　to　him　that　you　rookies　be

detailed　to　teach　the　game　to　us　oldsters。〃



〃I　didn't　mean　to　be　fresh；〃　apologized　the　jaunty　one。　〃Won't

you　go　ahead　and　tell　us　the　things　we　need　to　remember？〃



〃Well；〃　exhorted　Mahan；　appeased　by　the　newcomer's　humility；

〃there　aren't　so　many　of　them；　after　all。　Learn　to　duck；　when　you

hear　a　Minnie　grunt　or　a　whizzbang　cut　loose；　or　a　five…nine

begin　to　whimper。　Learn　not　to　bother　to　duck　when　the　rifles　get

to　jabberingfor　you'll　never　hear　the　bullet　that　gets　you。

Study　the　nocturnal　habits　of　machine…guns　and　the　ways　of

snipers　and　the　right　time　not　to　play　the　fool。　And　keep　saying

to　yourself：　'The　bullet　ain't　molded　that　can　get　ME！'　Mean　it

when　you　say　it。　When　you've　learned　those　few　things；　the　rest

of　the　war…game　is　dead　easy。〃



〃Except；〃　timidly　amended　old　Sergeant　Vivier；　the　gray　little

Frenchman；　〃except　when　eyes　areare　what　you　call　it；　no　use。〃　

〃That's　right；〃　assented　Mahan。　〃In　the　times　when　eyes　are　no

use；　all　rules　fail。　And　then　the　only　thing　you　can　do　is　to

trust　to　your　Yankee　luck。　I　remember〃



〃'When　eyes　are　no　use'？〃　repeated　the　recruit。　〃If　you　mean

after　dark；　at　nighthaven't　we　got　the　searchlights　and　the

starshells　and　all　that？〃