It was not very long before he came upon something which gave him complete satisfaction, and after an intimate interview with the object, he began dragging it back along the road over which he had come. Once in a while he lay down and employed himself in gnawing at one end of the burden, thus balancing the weight by disposing of some on the inside, some on the out. In course of time Lucie lifted her teary eyes and looked off in the direction of the road over which Pom Pom was traveling. She saw a small animal trotting along, stopping now and then to get a better grasp of the thing he carried. “Pom Pom! It is Pom!” cried Lucie starting to her feet. “He is bringing something. I wonder what in the world he has found.” She gave the whistle which always brought him. He tossed up his head, gave a quick bark and seemed inclined to relinquish the prize he had brought thus far. He stood over it for a moment, then concluded he would not abandon it, for he took a fresh hold and came on. Lucie ran forward to meet him. He saw her coming and stopped to stand guard over his capture, wagging his tail violently when she called to him. “He seems very proud of himself,” said Lucie. “I must find out why. Pom Pom, what is it you have there?” she asked. Pom Pom danced forward barking joyously, then ran back to his booty. Lucie stooped down to examine what lay upon the ground. “Bread!” she exclaimed. “What a dog!” for before her was what remained of a long loaf of bread; evidently it had fallen from the basket of some refugee, possibly from that very missing basket. There remained only about half the original loaf. The two ends had been gnawed off and it was no better for having been dragged through the dusty road. But bread it was, and at sight of it tears again rose to Lucie’s eyes. “You dear dog! You darling Pom,” she murmured, caressing him. “What have you done for me, and they would have had me leave you behind! Ah, my Pom, no power can now separate us. The bread is not very clean, to be sure, but how much better than nothing. You shall have the outside while I will take the rest. There are knives in that basket, I know, for I discovered them when I was hoping to find food. If one could but get at that nest, one would not fare so badly in spite of the egg being raw. Come, Pom Pom!” and Pom Pom came. She sat down with renewed courage, pared off the crusts and gave them to Pom Pom, who, after all, was not so hungry as he had been. It was rather a stuffy meal, but every crumb of it was devoured when Lucie at last was ready to start out. She carried only her own bundle. The rest of the luggage she must leave, likewise the unattainable egg, which remained to lure back the little hen to her nest. The hen, indeed, was the sole living creature to whom Lucie could make her adieux. One may never know the fate of that particular hen nor her eggs, though it is to be hoped they did their part in the preservation of life in that devastated region. CHAPTER V