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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 cogent reasonshave by no means the same odor； to a
collie's trained scent； nor to that of other breeds of war…dogs。
Official records of dog…sentinels prove that。
Aliens were nearing Bruce's friends。 And the dog's ruff began to
stand up。 But Mahan and the rest seemed in no way concerned in
spirit therebythough； to the dog's understanding； they must
surely be aware of the approach。 So Bruce gave no further sign of
displeasure。 He was out for a walk； as a guest。 He was not on
sentry…duty。
But when the nearest German was almost upon them； and all twelve
Americans dropped to the ground； the collie became interested
once more。 A German stepped on the hand of one of his newest
friends。 And the friend yelled in pain。 Whereat the German made
as if to strike the stepped…on man。
This was quite enough for loyal Bruce。 Without so much as a growl
of warning； he jumped at the offender。
Dog and man tumbled earthward together。 Then after an instant of
flurry and noise； Bruce felt Mahan's fingers on his shoulder and
heard the stark appeal of Mahan's whispered voice。 Instantly the
dog was a professional soldier once morealertly obedient and
resourceful。
〃Catch hold my left arm； Lieutenant！〃 Mahan was exhorting。 〃Close
up； there； boysevery man's hand grabbing tight to the shoulder
of the man on his left！ Pass the word。 And you； Missouri； hang
onto the Lieutenant！ Quick； there！ And tread soft and tread fast；
and don't let go； whatever happens！ Not a sound out of any one！
I'm leading the way。 And Bruce is going to lead me。〃
There was a scurrying scramble as the men groped for one another。
Mahan tightened his hold on Bruce's mane。
〃Bruce！〃 he said； very low； but with a strength of appeal that
was not lost on the listening dog。 〃Bruce！ Camp！ Back to CAMP！
And keep QUIET！ Back to camp； boy！ CAMP！〃
He had no need to repeat his command so often and so strenuously。
Bruce was a trained courier。 The one word 〃Camp！〃 was quite
enough to tell him what he was to do。
Turning； he faced the American lines and tried to break into a
gallop。 His scent and his knowledge of direction were all the
guides he needed。 A dog always relies on his nose first and his
eyes last。 The fog was no obstacle at all to the collie。 He
understood the Sergeant's order； and he set out at once to obey
it。
But at the very first step； he was checked。 Mahan did not release
that feverishly tight hold on his mane； but merely shifted to his
collar。
Bruce glanced back； impatient at the delay。 But Mahan did not let
go。 Instead he said once more：
〃CAMP； boy！〃
And Bruce understood he was expected to make his way to camp；
with Mahan hanging on to his collar。
Bruce did not enjoy this mode of locomotion。 It was inconvenient；
and there seemed no sense in it； but there were many things about
this strenuous war…trade that Bruce neither enjoyed nor
comprehended； yet which he perform