第 10 节
作者:风雅颂      更新:2021-02-21 10:00      字数:9322
  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 thousand
  dogs were eaten; in Saxony alone; in 1913; the year BEFORE the
  war began。) Or else to be captured and then cut up by some German
  vivisector…surgeon in the sacred interests of Science! Oh; we can
  bring ourselves to send Bruce over there! But don't expect us to
  do it with a good grace。 For we can't。〃
  〃I〃 began the embarrassed guest; but the Mistress chimed in;
  her sweet voice not quite steady。
  〃You see; Captain; we've made such a petsuch a babyof Bruce!
  All his life he has lived herehere where he had the woods to
  wander in and the lake to swim in; and this house for his home。
  He will be so unhappy andWell; don't let's talk about that!
  When I think of the people who give their sons and everything
  they have; to the country; I feel ashamed of not being more
  willing to let a mere dog go。 But then Bruce is not just a 'mere
  dog。' He ishe is BRUCE。 All I ask is that if he is injured and
  not killed; you'll arrange to have him sent back here to us。
  We'll pay for it; of course。 And will you write to whomever you
  happen to know; at that dog…training school in England; and ask
  that Bruce be treated nicely while he is training there? He's
  never been whipped。 He's never needed it; you see。〃
  The Mistress might have spared herself much worry as to Bruce's
  treatment in the training school to which he was consigned。 It
  was not a place of cruelty; but of development。 And when; out of
  the thousands of dogs sent there; the corps of trainers found one
  with promise of strong ability; such a pupil was handled with all
  the care and gentleness and skill that a temperamental prima
  donna might expect。
  Such a dog was the big American collie; debarked from a goods car
  at the training camp railway station; six weeks after the
  Mistress and the Master had consented to his enlistment。 And the
  handlers treated him accordingly。
  The Master himself had taken Bruce to the transport; in Brooklyn;
  and had led him aboard the overfu