El Paso herald. (El Paso, Tex.) 1901-1931, 1910-10-17
Tom, the Smuggler
BY Marcel Provost.

shall never forget the time when
1 lost my way among the downs that
stretch from Dunkirk to Furnes- two
years ago.. I had left Rosenthal at 4
in the afternoon for a walk to an old
church, the Steeple of which could be
seen in the north just across the Bel
gian frontier. 1t was downhill all the
way and after while / could no long
i er see the steepIe / went on, however,
trying to walk in a straight line, but
I had to walk around many sandhills
and after while 1 no longer kne "
which way l was going.
Do you know the cold shivering SEN
sation that overpowers you when you are
alone walking through an unknown
country, in the downs mountains or
woods, and you find out that you have
lost your way, just as dusk is falling?
1t is not fear, for there is no danger,
but it is something very much like it,
feeling born by your knowledge of
your own helplessness, and from
strong desire to see and hear other
human beings. II is also the dread
of the city man. who is used to spend
his nights in a comfortable bed
kept on walking, stumbling
through the deep sand and 1 must have
walked at least another hour in dark
ness when suddenly 1 saw light in
front of me and a moment later /
knocked at the door of a small house.
tall man with stern face and with
hair beginning to turn gray, opened
the door.
Good evening, Mynheer,'' he said.
Good evening" 1 replied. Forgive
me for troubling you but 1 have lost
my way in the downs, and would like
to know where 1 am
This house belongs to a man, gen
orally called Vert-Bouquet am
Michel Dewachter and the nearest VII
lage is Forduyct"
He conducted me into a large room,
serving as kitchen and living room, at
the same time. A door stood ajar
leading into smaller bed room.
How far am / from Dunkirk?"
asked
"A little over six miles, Mynheer
l will take you to Forduyct, where
you can easily get carriage, but
shall have to wait till Gudule comes
back l cannot leave the house now"
moaning sound came from the
next room Michel Dewachter ran in
there and through the open door l
saw dog lying on the bed and heard
him speak tenderly to it in Flemish
which I did not understand
When he returned his eyes were full
of tears.
rs somebody sick" l asked
He raised his head
ut is Tom that is dying"
And as 1 probably looked as if I did
not understand, he added
1T is Tom, my dog, that the custom
officers have killed. Do you want to
see him?'
Il followed him into the little bed
room and saw a big hunting dog. lying
on the bed just like a human being. |
Its right ear was bleeding, and one
Of its front paws had been cut off and
what was left of the leg was wrapped
in linen bandages. 1t was gasping for |
breath and evidently dying. Its tongue |
was hanging out and the white teeth |
were barred. The eyes were half closed |
Michel Dewachter stopped over 1t |
and kissed it as a father might have /
kissed his baby.
The beasts. The scoundrelsl I will |
make them pay dearly for that
He went back to the big room and |
my host filled two tankards with beer |
and set them on the table.
please have a drink with me-" he /
said "tGuduIe will soon be here. If !
you are hungry, 1 am sorry 1 can't |
ofer you anything but homemade bread |
and a little butter. but you are well |
come to that, if you want it
mo thank you, 1 am not hungry, |
but 1 will be very glad of a glass of |
beer
Maybe you will smoke too. Here is
a good pipe and some tobacco. that the |
customs officers would like to get hold |
off,
When we had lit our pipes we sat !
down at the table Michel was silent |
but the gasping of the dying dog.