Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1871-01-06
At Close Quarters with a Wolf.

engineer WnOm naQ formerly known at
Konigsberg, and who now insisted upon
making me his guest till l could get for
ward toward Smolensk. We sat late over
very primitive supper, and my host (who
is keen sportsinan) was just limiting at
the possibility. of getting up hunt for
the destruction of wolf of uncommon
size and strength which had lately haunted
the neighborhood and committed great raw
ages, when terrible noise from the upper
end of the village, like score of voices all
shrieking at once, broke in upon our chat
"Ach lieber Gott was list das ?" cried
my companion, rushing to the door, and
throwingit open. The whole place seemed
in the height of confusion men were run
ming wildly hither and thither, women
screaming, children crying, lights glancing
to and fro. seized the arm of man who
was rushing past, and hastily asked what
was the matter.
" wolf againp gasped the fellow, who
could hardly speak; "up yonder-woman
deToured-run for the watchman;" and
away he flew.
The next moment my comrade and l
were running at full speed toward the scene
OF the catastrophe, on reaching which we
came suddenly upon spectacle which
shall not easily forget. The fitful glimmer
of the rising moon, and the dying glare of
fire kindled overnight in the vain hope
OF soaring away the wolves, lit up circle
of wild figures and grim, bearded faces,
convulsed with every varying form of pas
sion-dumb horror, blank astonishment,
panic fear the spasm of bitter sorrow, the
stern calmness of concentrated wrath. In
the back ground the gaunt white arms of
the leafless forest stood out against the
surrounding blacIness like giant skeletons,
while in the centre of the group, half
buried in the trampled and blood be-
smeared snow, lay motionless something
from which all involuntarily averted their
eyes-the lifeless wreck, mangled out of
all semblance of humanity, of what had
been buta few hours before the pride of a
happy household and the beauty of the vii
lage.
There are certain catastrophes in the
presence of which one is instinctively
silent For several moments not a word
is spoken; and in that dead pause of ex-
pectation | have leisure to remark the face
of a peasant who stands opposite me. He
is young man of twenty-ti or twenty
six, though his broad chest and powerful
limbs, as we'll as the magnificent brown
beard that waves over the bosom of his
sheep-skin frock, might make him appear
much older. His face is coarse and
weather beaten enough; but there is some
thing in that broad, low forehead, and
square, ruthless jaw, and small. deepset,
gllttering eye, which tells you at a glance
that, whatever danger might confront him,
that man would be very hard to turn.
While | am still looking at him he sud
denly steps forward and speaks at is
time to finish this" says he, in a tone
which there is no niistaking. "Who will
come with me into the forest and make
an end of that brute, once for all?"
The summons does not remain long un-
answered There is no drawer man living
than the Russian peasant when his natur-
ally sluggish blood is once up. Three men
instantly volunteer to join him, while my
German friend and | (already sufficiently
excited by all that we have seen and heard)
hasten to follow their example. Our prep
arations are soon made, and about two in
the morning, under the full splendor of
the winter moonlight, we set forth on the
trail of the destroyer There is but one
gun among the six of us, the rest being
armed with clubs and hatchets; but the
German has likewise a short hunting
knife, which has done him good service
before now
Tramp, tramp, it had been for miles,
without sight or sound of our lurking
enemy, and the Russians, unused to such
severe marching, Begin to fall behind. The
German, myself, and one of the peasants
at length find ourselves alone, and halt in
order to give the other three time to come
up. Already their steps are heard crunch
ing over the snow, and few moments
later the dark figures come gliding toward
II thrnnnh cho hut 20
our astonishment, instead of three men,
only two make their appearance. Our
leader is still missing.
"Where is Michael?" asks the German.
The men look at each other without an
swering, and every face reflects the same
look of dismay; for we all know what
going astray in Russian forest in win
ter really means. In the dead hush
that follows we suddenly hear a distant
cry-not the deep, manly shout of a
hunter calling to his mates, but the shrill,
agonized yell of man in his EXTREMIST
need-the cry of the climber who feels his
hold relaxing, of the swimmer who finds
his limbs failing him. The next moment
we are all fleeing in the direction of the
sound
Michael, while quickening his pace to
catch us up, had been brought to halt by
the bursting of his shoe-strap, and must
stop to adjust it But there is one watching
him who fully appreciates that defenceless
posture. Poor Michael does not hear the
rustic of that stealthys tread, does not see
the gleam of that fierce yellow eye but he
cannot fail to hear the sharp crackle of the
dead branches as a huge grayish mass
shoots from the dark thicket and falls
right upon him as he rises, clutching
fiercely at his unprotected side with its
sharp white fangs. Yet even in this
deadly peril the brave fellow does not
lose heart. One moments grace is al
lowed him, while his assaiants teeth fail
to pierce his tough sheep skin frock; and
that moment suliices. The VOLTS head is
under his left arm-pit; in an instant his
powerful arm is round its neck, jamming
the beasts throat in an iron clasp between
his side and elbow, while with his right
hand he seizcs its fore-paw, and holds the
brute as in vice, lifting his voice at the
same moment in wild cry for help And
now begins terrible struggle. No time
to snatch up the trusty axe which has fall
en- just in front of him; it is tug of sheer
strength now. The wolf, erect on his hind
legs, strains every nerve to tear himself
free; once free, one strangling gripe of Mi
AA''"e Wiii pay 'lOl dll' llOll Oil,
as you love your lifel though your Joints
crackle, and your sinews start, and your
head swim dizzily, hold on still-tighter,
tighter tighter And so, amidst the tomb,
like shadows Of the lonely forest, with the
cold moon looking pitilessly down upon
it, does the death -grapple proceed. That
iron pressure is beginning to tell at last
the fierce yellow eyes are growing dim, the
huge jaws writhe convulsively, and from
their edges the hot flakes of blood and
foam squirt over Michael's face. But how
long can that hold be maintained? Are
not the strained muscles already yielding?
the stitfened fingers already relaxing their
clutch? And the five stanch comrades
who would rush to the rescue if they but
knew-where are they? One last despair
ing cry for aid, which the echoes of the
lonely forest give back as if in mockery,
and then everything swims around him.
shadows dance before his eyes, rushing
roaring sound sweeps past him, there is a
dull crash close to his ear-and he falls
exhausted to the EARTH
Was fur Elm Therl" says the German,
tearing his reeking knife from
D. p A.