A German officer, thinking to capture the flag, jumped forward, and leaning down laid his hand upon it; but at that moment a hairy, snarling body sprang forward, straight at the German’s throat. The latter released his hold on the flag and jumped to his feet to ward off the attack of this strange enemy, which he could not at first make out.
But this new enemy was not to be shaken off. His teeth found their mark, and with a cry, the German tumbled to earth.
The newcomer was Marquis.
Separated from Hal and Chester, Marquis, though a battle dog, had become uneasy at their absence and set out to find them. He had advanced with the second troop of Cossacks, and seeing the dead upon the field, had been trying to pick out the bodies of the two lads.
But when the Russian standard-bearer, almost beside him, had been shot down and the German had leaped for the colors, Marquis had turned from the search of his friends to dispose of his lifelong enemy.
As Marquis’ foe went to the ground, a second German sprang forward and, aiming a kick at the dog, also stooped and started to raise the colors. Marquis, disregarding the kick, seized upon the flag with his teeth at the same moment.
Then came a tug of war. Snarling, and with bristling back, Marquis pulled at the standard. Crying out hoarse epithets, the German pulled also; but neither made any headway.
Realizing that the dog was a match for him, the German uttered a fierce imprecation, dropped his hold on the flag, stepped back and aimed his revolver.
But the dog was ready for him. He had released his hold upon the flag almost as soon as had the German, and his canine reasoning told him the German’s object. Before the German could pull the trigger, Marquis was ready for him, and hurled his body straight at the German’s throat.
He had gauged the distance accurately enough, and beneath the shock the officer was hurled to the ground. He attempted to fight off his four-footed assailant, but he was no match for the angry dog.