He was evidently a visitor in camp, so
I took him around and introduced him to the rest of the dogs and
several of the better sort of goats. In all of these he displayed a
friendly but dignified interest, seeming to question them on the life
of the camp, how they liked the Navy and what they thought were the
prospects for an early peace. He refused to be separated from me,
however, and even broke into the mess hall, from which he was
unceremoniously ejected, but not before he had gotten half of my
ration. In some strange manner he must have found out from one of the
other dogs my name and address and exactly where I swung, for in the
middle of the night I awoke to hear a lonesome whining in the darkness
beneath my hammock and then the sniff, sniff of an investigating nose.
As I know how it feels to be lonely in a big black barracks in the
dead of night I carefully descended to the deck and collected this
animal--it was my old friend, Mr. Fogerty, and he was quite overjoyed
at having once more found me. After licking my face in gratitude he
sat back on his haunches and waited for me to do something amusing. I
didn't have the heart to leave him there in the darkness.
Pages:
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97