THE WOLF CHASE.

Cromwell Argus, Volume I, Issue 24, 27 April 1870, Page 7

THE WOLF CHASE.

The narrator of this story is a man whose log-house stood on the banks of the River Kennebech, which flowed past the door. He was very fond of skating, and one winter’s night he left his house to skate for a short distance up the frozen river. It was a bright, still evening; the new moon silvered the frosty pines. After gliding a couple of miles up the river, tiie skater turned off’ into a little tributary stream, over which fir and hemlock twined their evergreen branches. The archway beneath was dark, but he fearlessly entered it, unsuspicious of peril, with a joyous laugh and hurrah—an involuntary expression of exhilaration, elicited by the bracing crispness of the atmosphere and the glow of pleasant exercise. What followed is very exciting:— “ All of a sudden, a sound arose. It seemed to come from the very ice beneath my feet. It was loud and tremendous at first, until it ended in one long yell. I was appalled. Never before had such a noise met my ears. I thought it more than mortal—so fierce, and amid such unbroken solitude, that it seemed as if a fiend from hell had blown a blast from an infernal trumpet. Presently I heard the twigs on the shore snap as if from the tread of some animal, and the blood rushed back to my forehead with a bound that made my skin burn. • My energies returned, and I looked around me for some means of defence. The moon shone through the opening I had entered the forest by, and considering it the best means of escape, I darted towards it like an arrow. It was hardly a hundred yards distant, and the swallow could scarcely outstrip my desperate flight; yet as I turned my eyes to the shore, I could see two dark objects dashing through the underbrush at a pace nearly double mine. By their speed, and the short yells which they occasionally gave, I knew at once that they were the much dreaded gray wolf. The bushes that skirted the shore flew past with the velocity of light, as I dashed on in my flight. The outlet was nearly gained. One second more, and I should be comparatively safe—when my pursuers appeared on the bank directly above me, which rose to the height of some ten feet. There ■was no time for thought. I bent my head, and dashed wildly forward. The wolves sprang; but miscalculating my speed, they sprang behind, whilst their intended prey glided out into the river. Nature turned me towai’ds home. The light flakes of snow spun from the iron of my skates, and I was now some distance from my pursuers, when their fierce howls told me that I was again the fugitive. I did not look back—l did not feel sorry or, glad. One thought of home, of the bright faces awaiting my return, of their tears if they should never see me again, and then my energy of body and mind was exerted for my escape. I was perfectly at home on the ice. Many were the days I spent on the skates, never thinking that at one time they would he my only means of safety. Every half-minute an alternate yelp from my pursuers made me but too certain that they were close to my heels. Nearer and nearer they came. I heard their feet pattering on the ice nearer still, until I fancied 1 could hear their deep breathing. Every nerve and muscle in my frame was stretched to the utmost tension. The trees along the shore seemed to dance in the uncertain light; when, with an involuntary motion, 1 turned, and moved out of my course The wmlves, close behind me and unable to stop or turn, slipped, fell—still going on far ahead, their tongues lolling out, their while tusks gleaming from their mouths, their dark shaggy breasts freckled with

foam j and as they passed mo their eyes glared, and they howled with rage and fury. The thought Hashed on my mind that by turning aside whenever they came too near I could avoid them, for by the formation of their feet, wolves are unable to run on ice, except in a straight line. I immediately acted on this plan. The wolves, having regained their feet, sprang directly towards me. The race was renewed for twenty yards up the stream. They were already close to my back, when 1 glided round and dashed past them. A fierce howl greeted my evolution, and the wolves slipped upon their haunches' and sailed onwards, presenting a perfect picture of helplessness and baffled rage. Thus I gained nearly a hundred yards each turning. This was repeated two or three times, every momentsthe wolves getting more excited and baffled, until coming opposite the house, when a couple of stag-hounds, aroused by the noise, bayed furiously from their kennels. The wolves, taking the hint, stopped in their . mad career; and after a moment’s consideration, turned and fied. I watched them till their dusky forms disappeared over a neighboring hill; and then, taking off my skates, I wended my way up to the house,”