The Madison daily leader. [volume] (Madison, S.D.) 1890-current, 1914-12-18

1t was the Pas de Calais at the end
OF October-an October blessed, In
this year of dread, with clear, cool,
bracing weather, much like our W
Indian summer. Around a turn in the
road came a strange, shutting multi
tude, doubly strange In that well-or-
dered landscape.
AT the head marched an old woman,
a stalwart, STRAIGHTFORWARD Flemish
woman, vigorous in spite of her sixty
years. Beside her walked a boy OF
not more than twelve, his figure al
ready settling into a peasant solidity.
lie, like the old woman, carried on his
back a bundle wrapped in a sheet.
And between them they dragged by
the hand a little girl, not more tina
six years old-half carried her, since
now and then she raised her feet from
the ground and let them support her.
It WAS plain to see why she lifted
her feet. Her poor little shoes, heavy
though they had been in the begin
ming, were worn clear through. Her
clothes and hair were matted with
dirt, and her face was gray with 1t,
save for the streaks made by her
tears. She had stopped crying now;
She was beyond that. There
the time with all these refugees, young
and old, when they get beyond tears.
Behind followed the rest of the refu-
gee caravan, like these leaders except
for minor details. OF course, there
was not among them a man of vigor-
Gus years-only a few grandfathers,
%trudging along beside their women
folks. Mainly, IL was a collection OF
young children-all, like the little girl
in the leading party. beyond tears
with misery.
A dozen Of the women, at least, car
ried babes in arms who had somehow
survived the miseries of days and
days of walking. These were the last
Of the Belgian refugees to pour into
France. They came, mainly from that
thickly settled, fertile, once prosper
Gus southwestern strip, along which
Germans and allies were now fighting
for the bridge-head of the User.
But not all. Some OF them-as /
learned from the few who had the en-
ergy to ~talk-liyed further north. A
month before they had fed from the
German advance after the capture of
Antwerp; and they had peer fleeing
ever since-sleeping in the fields
through rain and shine, eating what
bread of charity Heaven only knows.
The tail OF the procession, 1 found,
had halted at a crossroads beside
which someone had erected a tent
from blankets strung on sticks. AS
approached, wondering what this
might be, an automobile came whiz-
zing down the road at seventy miles
an h%our-there are no speed laws for
military automobiles in time OF war.
Ii stopped beside the tent; there was
"a parley and a man in Belgian uni
form wearing a Red Cross brassard
On his arm alighted.
What is it-what is happening" !
asked the first OF the refugees beside
the tent-an old man who crouched
In the gutter.
I'm enfant-a baby is being born, 3"
he said briefly. The man in uniform
was a Belgian surgeon taking time
from his work OF repairing death to
assist ia giving life.
Again. ii was the next day in Calais
Calais, once so busy and so veneer
able, and in spots so pretty, but now
faded and dirty with the passage OF
armies. Ten thousand of these refu.
gees came into Calais that day. That
day, also, the Red Cross was bringing
in Belgian wounded by the thousand
there had been serious fighting along
the User.
The refugees, herded or escorted by
the police, streamed down the streets
to the concentration yards prepared
for them on the docks of the French
government, which was going to trans
port them to the Midi as soon as it
could get the steamers. You would
heal now and then the foot of an au-
tomobile horn, and the refugees would
make way for the passage of a motor
car loaded to capacity with the white
faced wounded. The car would go on,
and the refugees would close their
gaps and resume their weary, nerve
less pace.
At the concentration yards they sat
In family groups, the children huddled
about their mothers and grandmothers
ike Cnlck6US dTOuHu Jc0S. NO CullO
among them laughed or played; they
were too weary for that; but no child
cried. ! was trying to ave speech
with these refugees, and finding them
too nerveless to give any account oil
their adventures, when an ambulance
arrived.
A nurse and a physician descended
A woman rose from a distant grouI
and joined them. She carried In heI
arms a bundle wrapped in rags. The
slant of her back showed that the bun
die contained a c~hild-there Is an atti
tude of motherhood which none car
mistake.
The women in the nearest group fol
lowed the pantomime with their tear
less, hopeless ayes.
What is it," | asked.
For a time none of the women an
swered. Then one spoke In a dead tone
Her baby is dead" she said. "Sh'
had no milk in her"
All tnat happened on the fringe o
Belgium, to the refugees who hat
: made their way out and were nearing
aofaty and enough comfort To keel