bruce-第18章

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lieutenant　had　been　at　work　with　the　pliers。　Thus　the　intruders；

from　their　present　course；　must　inevitably　pass　very　close　to　the

prostrate　Americansso　close；　perhaps；　as　to　brush　against　the

nearest　of　them；　or　even　to　step　on　one　or　more　of　the　crouching

figures。



Mahan　whispered　to　the　man　on　his　immediate　left；　the　rookie　from

Missouri：



〃Edge　closer　to　the　wireclose　as　you　can　wiggle；　and　lie　flat。

Pass　on　the　word。〃



The　Missourian　obeyed。　Before　writhing　his　long　body　forward

against　the　bristly　mass　of　wire　he　passed　the　instructions　on　to

the　man　at　his　own　left。



But　his　nerves　were　at　breaking…point。



It　had　been　bad　enough　to　crawl　through　the　blind　fog；　with　the

ghostly　steps　of　his　comrades　pattering　softly　at　either　side　of

him。　But　it　was　a　thousand　times　harder　to　lie　helpless　here；　in

the　choking　fog　and　on　the　soaked　ground；　while　countless　enemies

were　bearing　down；　unseen；　upon　him；　on　one　side；　and　an

impenetrable　wire　cut　off　his　retreat　on　the　other。



The　Missourian　had　let　his　imagination　begin　to　work；　always　a

mistake　in　a　private　soldier。　He　was　visualizing　the　moment　when

this　tramping　German　force　should　become　aware　of　the　presence　of

their　puny　foes　and　should　slaughter　them　against　the　merciless

wires。　It　would　not　be　a　fair　stand…up　fight；　this　murder…rush　of

hundreds　of　men　against　twelve　who　were　penned　in　and　could　not

maneuver　nor　escape。　And　the　thought　of　it　was　doing　queer　things

to　the　rookie's　overwrought　nerves。



Having　passed　the　word　to　creep　closer　to　the　wires；　he　began　to

execute　the　order　in　person；　with　no　delay　at　all。　But　he　was　a

fraction　of　a　second　too　late。　The　Germans　were　moving　in　hike…

formation　with　〃points〃　thrown　out　in　advance　to　either　sidea

〃point〃　being　a　private　soldier　who；　for　scouting　and　other

purposes；　marches　at　some　distance　from　the　main　body。



The　point；　ahead　of　the　platoon；　had　swerved　too　far　to　the　left；

in　the　blacknessan　error　that　would　infallibly　have　brought　him

up　against　the　wires；　with　considerable　force；　in　another　two

steps。　But　the　Missourian　was　between　him　and　the　wires。　And　the

point's　heavy…shod　foot　came　down；　heel　first；　on　the　back　of　the

rookie's　out…groping　hand。　Such　a　crushing　impact；　on　the

hand…back；　is　one　of　the　most　agonizing　minor　injuries　a　man　can

sustain。　And　this　fact　the　Missourian　discovered　with　great

suddenness。



His　too…taut　nerves　forced　from　his　throat　a　yell　that　split　the

deathly　stillness　with　an　ear…piercing　vehemence。　He　sprang　to

his　feet；　forgetful　of　orders　intent　only　on　thrusting　his

bayonet　through　the　Hun　who　had　caused　such　acute　torture　to　his

hand。　Half　way　up；　the　rookie's　feet　went　out　from　under　him　in

the　slimy　mud。　He　caromed　against　the　point；　then　fell　headlong。



The　German；　doubtless　thinking　he　had　stumbled　upon　a　single

stray　American　scout；　whirled　his　own　rifle　aloft；　to　dash　out

the　brains　of　his　luckless　foe。　But　before　the　upflung　butt　could

descend；before　the　rookie　could　rise　or　dodge；the　point　added

his　quota　to　the　rude　breaking　of　the　night's　silence。　He

screamed　in　panic　terror；　dropped　his　brandished　gun　and　reeled

backward；　clawing　at　his　own　throat。



For　out　of　the　eerie　darkness；　something　had　launched　itself　at

himsomething　silent　and　terrible；　that　had　flown　to　the

Missourian's　aid。　Down　with　a　crash　went　the　German；　on　his　back。

He　rolled　against　the　Missourian；　who　promptly　sought　to　grapple

with　him。



But　even　as　he　clawed　for　the　German；　the　rookie's　nerves　wrung

from　him　a　second　yellthis　time　less　of　rage　than　of　horror。



〃Sufferin'　cats！〃　he　bellowed。　〃Why　didn't　anybody　ever　tell　me

Germans　was　covered　with　fur　instead　of　clothes？〃



The　boche　platoon　was　no　longer　striding　along　in　hike…

formation。　It　was　broken　up　into　masses　of　wildly　running　men；

all　of　them　bearing　down　upon　the　place　whence　issued　this

ungodly　racket　and　turmoil。　Stumbling；　reeling；　blindly　falling

and　rising　again；　they　came　on。



Some　one　among　them　loosed　a　rifle…shot　in　the　general　direction

of　the　yelling。　A　second　and　a　third　German　rifleman　followed　the

example　of　the　first。　From　the　distant　American　trenches；　one　or

two　snipers　began　to　pepper　away　toward　the　enemy　lines；　though

the　fog　was　too　thick　for　them；　to　see　the　German　rifle…flashes。



The　boches　farthest　to　the　left；　in　the　blind　rush；　fouled　with

the　wires。　German　snipers；　from　behind　the　Hun　parapets；　opened

fire。　A　minute　earlier　the　night　had　been　still　as　the　grave。　Now

it　fairly　vibrated　with　clangor。　All　because　one　rookie's　nerves

had　been　less　staunch　than　his　courage；　and　because　that　same

rookie　had　not　only　had　his　hand　stepped　on　in　the　dark；　but　had

encountered　something　swirling　and　hairy　when　he　grabbed　for　the

soldier　who　had　stepped　on　him！





The　American　lieutenant；　at　the　onset　of　the　clamor；　sprang　to

his　feet；　whipping　out　his　pistol；　his　dry　lips　parted　in　a

command　to　chargea　command　which；　naturally；　would　have　reduced

his　eleven　men　and　himself　to　twelve　corpses　or　to　an　equal

number　of　mishandled　prisoners　within　the　next　few　seconds。　But　a

big　hand　was　clapped　unceremoniously　across　the　young　officer's

mouth；　silencing　the　half…spoken　suicidal　order。



Sergeant　Mahan's　career　in　the　regular　army　had　given　him　an

almost　uncanny　power　of　sizing　up　his　fellowmen。　And　he　had　long

ago　decided　that　this　was　the　sort　of　thing　his　untried

lieutenant　would　be　likely　to　do；　in　just　such　an　emergency。

Wherefore　his　flagrant　breach　of　discipline　in　shoving　his　palm

across　the　mouth　of　his　superior　officer。



And　as　he　was　committing　this　breach　of　discipline；　he　heard　the

Missourian's　strangled　gasp　of：



〃Why　didn't　anybody　ever　tell　me　Germans　was　covered　with　fur？〃



In　a　flash　Mahan　understood。　Wheeling；　he　stooped　low　and　flung

out　both　arms　in　a　wide…sweeping　circle。　Luckily　his　right　hand's

fingertips；　as　they　completed　the　circle；　touched　something

fast…moving　and　furry。



〃Bruce！〃　he　whispered　fiercely；　tightening　his　precarious　grip　on

the　wisp　of　fur　his　fingers　had　touched。　〃Bruce！　Stand　still；

boy！　It's　YOU　who's　got　to　get　us　clear　of　this！　Nobody　else；

short　of　the　good　Lord；　can　do　it！〃



Bruce　had　had　a　pleasantly　lazy　day　with　his　friends　in　the

first…line　trenches。　There　had　been　much　good　food　and　more

petting。　And　at　last；　comfortably　tired　of　it　all；　he　had　gone　to

sleep。　He　had　awakened　in　a　most　friendly　mood；　and　a　little

hungry。　Wherefore　he　had　sallied　forth　in　search　of　human

companionship。　He　found　plenty　of　soldiers　who　were　more　than

willing　to　talk　to　him　and　make　much　of　him。　But；　a　little

farther　ahead；　he　saw　his　good　friend；　Sergeant　Mahan；　and　others

of　his　acquaintances；　starting　over　the　parapet　on　what　promised

to　be　a　jolly　evening　stroll。



All　dogs　find　it　hard　to　resist　the　mysterious　lure　of　a　walk　in

human　companionship。　True；　the　night　was　not　an　ideal　one　for　a

ramble；　and　the　fog　had　a　way　of　congealing　wetly　on　Bruce's

shaggy　coat。　Still；　a　damp　coat　was　not　enough　of　a　discomfort　to

offset　the　joy　of　a　stroll　with　his　friends。　So　Bruce　had

followed　the　twelve　men　quietly　into　No　Man's　Land；　falling

decorously　into　step　behind　Mahan。



It　had　not　been　much　of　a　walk；　for　speed　or　for　fun。　For　the

humans　went　ridiculously　slowly；　and　had　an　eccentric　way　of

bunching　together；　every　now　and　again；　and　then　of　stringing　out

into　a　shambling　line。　Still；　it　was　a　walk；　and　therefore　better

than　loafing　behind　in　the　trenches。　And　Bruce　had　kept　his

noiseless　place　at　the　Sergeant's　heels。



Thenlong　before　Mahan　heard　the　approaching　tramp　of　feet

Bruce　caught　not　only　the　sound　but　the　scent　of　the　German

platoon。　The　scent　at　once　told　him　that　the　strangers　were　not

of　his　own　army。　A　German　soldier　and　an　American　soldier

because　of　their　difference　in　diet　as　well　as　for　certain　other

and　more　co