File:Pierrot, dog of Belgium (1915) (14750487974).jpg

Identifier: pierrotdogofbelg00dyer (find matches)
Title: Pierrot, dog of Belgium
Year: 1915 (1910s)
Authors: Dyer, Walter A. (Walter Alden), 1878-1943 Doubleday, Page & Company. pbl Country Life Press. prt Grant, Gordon
Subjects: Dogs
Publisher: Garden City, New York : Doubleday, Page & Company
Contributing Library: New York Public Library
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

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ack of herhand across her eyes and turned slowly awayamong the trees. PIERROT, DOG OF BELGIUM 89 It was no three days journey that Pierrothad undertaken this time, for though he hadno load dragging at his heels, he found thathe could not travel fast nor very far at atime. He had only his instinct and a vaguememory to guide him, and often the windingroad led him astray, so that he covered manyneedless miles. But he had ceased to fear the soldiers, anddared now to travel by daylight and thusmade better progress, though he still madewide detours to avoid suspicious lookingpeople. The clumsy bandage became looseand Pierrot tore it off with his teeth, but hiswounded leg did not hurt him now save whenhe attempted to use it. It was weary work, travelling on threelegs and on scanty rations. Sometimes hewas obliged to sink down exhausted in a shel-tered spot and wait till his strength returned.Sometimes, when the pangs of hunger seizedhim, he was forced to waste valuable hourshunting for food.
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90 PIERROT, DOG OF BELGIUM People in houses and peasants in the fieldshe learned not to fear, and twice he was in-vited into cottages and fed. But always hemanaged to get away after he was rested andnever knew that he was guilty of ingratitude.Sometimes men on the road or in the fieldscalled to him, but he would not stop. Oncea boy gave chase, but Pierrot put all thespeed he could muster into his three legs andcontrived to escape, though he was obliged tolie panting for a long time after this racebefore he could recover. It was hard for himto understand this loss of his old-time power. He kept no account of the days and onlyknew that the way seemed endless. But oneafternoon the conviction seized him that hewas nearing his journeys end. There wasnothing familiar in the objects in the land-scape; he had never been there before. Butsomething inside him told him it was so. Hepressed on eagerly, whining a little to himselfas a terrier whines when he scents a mole.Surely, over the next hill

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