But between eight and nine o’clock on that same evening Eugenia opened
her eyes. She was unable to think clearly at first and stared in
amazement at the canopy of blue sky above her head. What had become of
the familiar ceiling of her room at the farmhouse?
But then her head was aching dully so that it made her more
uncomfortable to try to think at all. She did not even wish to call for
the other girls, because Barbara would probably come to her in a little
while. She remembered that Barbara had been especially kind when she
had just such another absurd headache a short time before.
Closing her eyes again, Eugenia rested. But something warm and soft
seemed to be moving about near her face, breathing over her in a
curious, enveloping fashion impossible from a human being. It was like
a damp cloud.
Putting out her hand, Eugenia touched Duke’s moist nose, and then
almost instantly returned to a knowledge of the situation.
She recalled in detail the events of the past afternoon, but could
find no explanation for her own presence here upon the ground among
the wounded. For she was not suffering sufficient pain to suggest
that she had been shot by a stray rifle ball from the enemy’s lines.
Moreover, Eugenia found that she could move both her arms and legs
without difficulty. They were stiff, but that may have been due either
to fatigue or to her position upon the earth. However, the ache in her
head continued so that Eugenia put up her fingers to her temple. There
was a curious something clotted on her hair at the left side, which she
at once knew to be blood.
Then she understood what had happened. A piece of shell from an
exploding bomb must have struck and stunned her into unconsciousness.
However, it must have come from such a distance that it had spent its
force, for she was not seriously injured. Already the slight scalp
wound had closed and was no longer bleeding.
Eugenia rose up slowly to a sitting position, realizing fully the
gravity of her situation. Yet she would not allow herself to reflect
upon its horrors. She must decide what she should best do. Would it be
wiser to stay where she was for the rest of the night or try to seek
assistance? Yet what had taken place in the countryside during the
afternoon while she lay in a stupor? Were the French or the Germans in
possession of the neighborhood?
However, Eugenia was not to be allowed to reach her decision alone. For
no sooner had she gotten up than Duke once more began pulling at her
dress, very softly at first, as one who has respect for an invalid, but
no less insistently.
A dog’s devotion and a dog’s persistence are two qualities worthy of
human admiration and wonder.
At this moment Eugenia felt both. She laid her hand quietly and
affectionately on Duke’s head.
“I can’t go with you again. I am too used up, Duke, to help you find
your friend. You would simply have another victim on your hands. But
you need stay with _me_ no longer. I shall wait here for you until
daylight.”
But though Eugenia waved her hand in token of dismissal and farewell,
the dog did not leave her, although he seemed to appreciate the fact
that she was unable to accompany him. For he gave up his hold on her
and merely sat down reflectively by her side, as if he too were trying
to decide what course it was wise to pursue.
It was plain that Duke was wretchedly unhappy. If he could not show his
grief in a human fashion, he had his own especial methods. When Eugenia
put her arm about his body she could feel the anguished beating of his
heart.
“I wonder who it can be, Duke, that you wish to find so ardently?” the
girl questioned. “Surely some one whom you love very deeply! I am sorry
to be so useless and it is dreadful to think of your friend’s long
waiting for your return, so you must go, Duke, even if I cannot go
with you. Then if you are no longer needed, come back to me.”
Eugenia made this long speech aloud in a pleading tone, nevertheless
she again discovered that it was easier to say what this great dog
should do than to force him to obey one’s will.
Yet while Eugenia was reflecting upon this fact she had her moment of
inspiration. She knew that in many parts of the army dogs had been
trained for searching out the wounded. Only a short time before in the
papers distributed by the French Red Cross Society she had read that
these dogs were sent forth with long ropes tied about their necks, so
that when possible the wounded were thus dragged to places of aid.
Eugenia had no rope, but one often wonders why women are accused of
being without inventive talents. So far it is true that only a few of
their inventions have been of world value; to find them one must seek
among the homes. This American girl at once slipped off her long cloth
nursing coat. It was of strong, well-woven material, yet she managed
within a few moments to tear it into strips and then to knot the strips
firmly together.
Then she tied the long cord about Duke’s neck. One could not tell
whether the dog would understand his mission, or whether the rope would
be of service when Duke reached his goal. Yet in every uncertainty in
life one must simply attempt the thing that seems most intelligent. And
Eugenia felt convinced that Duke would bring his friend back to her.
Then she could decide on what should be done next.
Duke did seem to understand, for as soon as Eugenia had finished her
task and commanded him to be gone, he trotted obediently off until his
great shadow was lost in the distance.
Then the girl lay down again. She had natural self-control and her
nursing had taught her even more. She must sleep if possible and in any
case not let herself dwell on her own presence here within the field of
the dead.
When Eugenia closed her eyes the moon had not risen and the night was
fairly dark. Half an hour later, when she reopened them, a full moon
had flooded the field with light. She could see Duke approaching at
some yards away. He was moving slowly and it was difficult at first
to find out the reason. Eugenia rose quickly to her feet. Yes, it was
evident now: he _was_ drawing someone along behind him.
The girl walked forward to meet the dog and his burden. Then, although
she had been growing daily more accustomed to war and its inevitable
sorrows, she stopped and drew in her breath sharply. The next instant
Eugenia had forgotten everything but that she was a Red Cross nurse
whose purpose was to do whatever she could to relieve suffering.
The figure that the dog dragged along on the ground had the face turned
downward. But when she lifted the body up Eugenia was not surprised to
recognize in the white, still features, the face of young Captain Henri
Castaigne. All along she had thought it probable that Duke could feel
no such intense devotion for any one save his master.
After the dog’s return the young officer had somehow managed to tie the
long strip of cloth about his own body. He must have realized that he
would lose consciousness on his journey to find succor, for he had been
cruelly wounded in both legs.
Never before had Eugenia felt more painfully helpless. There were so
many things which should be done for the young soldier at once and she
was so unable to do any one of them.
Of course, she knelt and felt the action of his pulse and heart,
finding neither so feeble as she had feared. Then Eugenia, who was
given to definite actions, made another decision.
It would be impossible to be of service to Captain Castaigne here in
an open field with no water near, so far as she knew. She had a little
in the canteen in her pocket, but this would only be enough for him
to drink and would certainly be insufficient for the cleansing of his
wounds. Besides, even with the use of the small flashlight every Red
Cross nurse carries, she was unable to discover whether the rifle
balls were still imbedded in her patient’s flesh. Certainly he must be
carried to some place where he could receive proper attention, but in
the meantime Eugenia thanked Providence that she had with her her bag
of first aid appliances. It had been strapped about her waist while she
sat under the tree earlier in the day, waiting to start out with the
field hospital staff. Until now she had no thought or use for it.
Eugenia used the necessary antiseptics and then bound the wounds as
carefully as possible. But she made no effort to bring her patient back
to consciousness. For the purpose she had in mind it would be best that
he feel and know as little as possible.
Once her task accomplished Eugenia again wound her improvised rope
about Captain Castaigne’s waist. Again she signaled Duke to start upon
a journey, but this time she formed a member of the little party.
Her idea was to get the wounded officer back in the neighborhood of
the field hospital, and then if she could find no aid there, somehow
to reach their own farmhouse. From there word could be sent to the
chateau.
But the trip was a terrible one and took longer hours than one could
have imagined. Now and then Eugenia would try to assist by supporting
the young officer’s body with her own strength. But as she could not
lift him entirely this only seemed to make the task more difficult for
the devoted Duke. Often they were obliged to stop and then Eugenia
would kneel down beside the body to find out if the young man was still
alive.
It was about dawn when they arrived at last in the neighborhood of the
former French field hospital, where the four American girls had been
nursing. But Eugenia found few traces of the hospital left. Everywhere
in the vicinity the ground had been trampled under foot. The white
tents had been folded, and like the proverbial Arabian tents, had
silently stolen away. Neither was there a single human being about.
However, Eugenia had anticipated this. But she had also steadfastly
hoped that here upon more familiar ground she might make some useful
discovery.
Ordering Duke to remain quiet beside his burden, Eugenia started upon a
pilgrimage. She must find something to make the trip to the farmhouse
more endurable, more possible for the young French soldier. Yet she
could not make up her mind to desert him in order to seek for help.
At first, the girl could, of course, find nothing. But by wandering
around on the outskirts of the grounds, where the deserted hospital had
formerly stood, Eugenia finally came across an old wheelbarrow. It had
been used for bringing vegetables to the hospital staff, and being of
no value had been left behind.
Scarcely an ideal motor ambulance for a wounded officer. Nevertheless
Eugenia seized upon the wheelbarrow with almost as much enthusiasm as
if it had been. For at least it had wheels and she would be able to
push it.
Naturally this was a hard task, but one should not think upon the
difficulty when a task is to be accomplished.
The blue front door of the little farmhouse was standing open when
Eugenia reached home. Half lifting and half dragging her patient, she
finally succeeded in placing him upon a small couch in their living
room.
Then, being the methodical person she was, Eugenia went directly to the
kitchen, made herself a cup of coffee and drank it. For her strength
had almost given out and she knew not what work might lie ahead of her.