On the morrow, certain fishermen on their way back from the sea with a boat-load of fish, drew their boat on to the beach and unloaded their catch, which they would sell at auction by the cart-load at the Minque of Heyst. They went up the road along the dunes, all strewn with shells, and presently came upon a young girl, stripped naked even to her chemise, with traces of blood all about her. Coming nearer they found upon her neck the horrid marks of long sharp teeth. She was lying on her back with her eyes wide open gazing up into the sky, and her mouth was open also as if with the cry of death itself! Covering the girl's body with an opperst-kleed they brought it to Heyst, to the Town Hall, and there quickly assembled the aldermen and the leech, who declared that the long teeth that had made those marks were no teeth of a wolf as known in nature, but rather of some wicked and devilish werwolf, and that it behoved them now to pray God one and all that he would deliver the land of Flanders. And in all that country, and notably at Damme, at Heyst, and at Knokke, prayers and orisons were ordered to be made. But Ulenspiegel went to the town bailiff and said to him: "I will go and kill the werwolf." "What gives you this confidence?" asked the bailiff. "The ashes beat upon my heart," Ulenspiegel replied. "Only give me leave to labour a while at the forge of the commune." "Very well," said the bailiff. Ulenspiegel, without telling a word concerning his project to any man or woman in Damme, betook him to the forge, and there, in secret, he fashioned a fine and a strong trap such as those traps which are made to catch wild beasts. On the following day, which was a Saturday, day beloved of werwolves, Ulenspiegel armed himself with a letter from the bailiff to the curé of Heyst, together with the trap which he carried under his cloak, as well as a good crossbow and a well-sharpened cutlass. Thus provided, he departed on his way, saying to those in Damme: "I am going out to hunt the seagulls, and of their down will I make a soft pillow for madame the wife of the bailiff." Now before he reached Heyst, he came out on to the seashore. The sea was rough and boisterous, and he heard the great waves growling like thunder, and the wind that blew from England whistling in the rigging of the boats that were stranded on the beach. A fisherman said to him: "This bad wind will be our ruin. Last night the sea was calm, but at sunrise she suddenly swelled with anger. And to-day we shall not be able to go out fishing." Ulenspiegel was pleased at this, for he knew that now he would be sure of some assistance if need arose. At Heyst he went straight to the curé and presented the letter that the bailiff had given him. The curé said: