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Page 26
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 overfull ship. The new sights and
sounds around him interested the home-bred collie. But when the
Master turned him over to the officer in whose charge he was to
be for the voyage, Bruce's deep-set eyes clouded with a sudden
heartsick foreboding.
Wrenching himself free from the friendly hand on his collar, he
sprang in pursuit of his departing deity,--the loved Master who
was leaving him alone and desolate among all these strange scenes
and noises. The Master, plodding, sullen and heavy-hearted,
toward the gangway, was aware of a cold nose thrust into his
dejected hand.
Looking down he beheld Bruce staring up at him with a world of
stark appeal in his troubled gaze. The Master swallowed hard;
then laid his hand on the beautiful head pressed so confidingly
against his knee. Turning, he led the dog back to the quarters
assigned to him.
"Stay here, old friend!" he commanded, huskily. "It's all right.
You'll make good. I know that. And there's a chance in a billion
that you'll come back to us. I'm--I'm not deserting you. And I
guess there's precious little danger that any one on The Place
will ever forget you. It's--it's all right. Millions of humans
are doing it. I'd give everything I've got, if I could go, too.
IT'S ALL RIGHT!"
Then Bruce understood at last that he was to stay in this place
of abominations, far from everything he loved; and that he must
do so because the Master ordained it. He made no further effort
to break away and to follow his god ashore. But he shivered
convulsively from head to foot; and his desolate gaze continued
to trace the Master's receding figure out of sight. Then, with a
long sigh, he lay down, heavily, his head between his white
forepaws, and resigned himself to whatever of future misery his
deities might have ordained for him.
Ensued a fortnight of mental and bodily anguish, as the inland-
reared dog tasted the horrors of a voyage in a rolling ship,
through heaving seas. Afterward, came the landing at a British
port and the train ride to the camp which was to be his home for
the next three months.
Bruce's sense of smell told him the camp contained more dogs than
ever he had beheld in all his brief life put together. But his
hearing would have led him to believe there were not a dozen
other dogs within a mile of him.
From the encampment arose none of the rackety barking which
betokens the presence of many canines, and which deafens visitors
to a dog-show.
One of the camp's first and most stringent rules forbade barking,
except under special order. These dogs--or the pick of them--were
destined for work at the front. The bark of a dog has a carrying
quality greater than the combined shouting of ten men. It is the
last sound to follow a balloonist, after he has risen above the
reach of all other earth-noises.
Hence, a chance bark, rising through the night to where some
enemy airman soared with engines turned off, might well lead to
the bombing of hitherto unlocated trenches or detachment-camps.
For this and divers other reasons, the first lesson taught to
arriving wardogs was to abstain from barking.
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