Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1871-10-11
CHASED BY WOLVES.

1t was race for life. Following hard
upon the tIect skater were troop of wolves
as iicet. Charles Vance heard their breath
ing, the short impatient shifts, the regular
Fattcr OF sharp feet upon the ice like a
click The scene lay in Canada The
moon sailed through drifting clouds, now
partially obscurcd, then bursting forth in a
Hood OF silycy light At one side was the
dense pine forest broken by clumps of leaf
less oak or hickory, and winding in and
ont MS it followed the course of the river p;
on the other, the wide, snow-covered PLAN.
AmiIeyet before house would be reached.
and in that time
Brave as he was, Mr.. Vance shuddered.
At twcnty-cight there was so much of life
before him. lie had reached point where
fortune began to smile upon him and for
the dpast six months his leisure hours had
been bright with glowing air-castles, which
all had Rose Ardley for their day-drcam.
For her sake it was that he had undertaken
this perlous journey.
Faster! faster! This turn showed him
the fierce cleaning eyes that repeated
themselves until there seemed to be hun
drcdS. Rays of lurid light flashed out lol-
ling scarlet tongues, that thirsted for a
draught of blood, and dainty morscl of
flesh. a mis-stcp, a halEhidden hillock of
ICE to trip the unwary traveller moment
lost, and he would be in the power of these
rayenous animals. No wonder his pulses
qulverod, or that he shrank from SO horrible
fate.
More than once he had cone up and
down the river for pleasure. More than
once there had been gay party; girls in
their pretty skating costumes: but sweet
est OF all was Rose, her golden curls blown
about by the wind, her cheeks brilliant,
hcr purple eyes dilating with enjoyment.
Bright and coquettish was she, fond of
teasing him until his patience was almost
exhausted but sweet, loving girl in the
midst Of it. At midsummer she was to be
his wife. He had cXtortcd that promise
from her, though he would fam have taken
her long before. And yet, only the other
morning they had fallen into trihing dis
pGtc about this very visit She wanted
HIM to go up for this Thursday evening; he
did not see his way clear to do it conycn-
ently.
"Thnrsday is payday" he had said, al
ludiugto his works and workmen. 81 new
er can get away on Thursday nights until
dark. My horse has fallen lame, too Rose.
| cannot ride him after to-day"
"lou once thought skating up the river
a mere postimc," replied Miss Ardlcy and
her tone was a trihe sharp and naughty.
sin the daytime, and with company.
That makes a difference"
son, very well: if you care so little to
come, there's no more to be saidn And
she turned away with an air of superb in
difference.
"Rose, it is not that. can come up
Friday, and stay until Monday"
"But Thursday night is Eleanor's birth
night, | thought Of the pleasure to her, to
have you among her guests. Don't put
yourself out, however,
Charles Vance was not man likely to
be canonizcd for either mcekness or pa
tIence; and she was purposely trying him
He felt vcxcd.
"Fll GOMEZ [ cam" concluded Mr.. Vance
shortly. His tone was cold, and his eyes
wandered over the waste of snow.
every WE'LL" she gaily said. 81 shall
expect you, mind. Goodbye" And she
kissed to him the tips of her dainty fingers.
He strobe down the path, mhitched his
horse with jerk, and went riding over the
road, never once glancing back. PeIyerse
Rose ArdIcy was privately pecping after
him, rather enjoying than not the semi
quarrel,
"l'll not go; she shall not get me there
on Thursday evening"" he answered to
himself in his annoyance. But ere Thurs
day evening came his resolve was broken,
after the manner of lovers, and he meant
to 90.
81 must skate up" he said, "Thc nights
clear and frosty"
"lIope thcre'll be no wolves abroad, Mas
ter Vance," said the brawny Engllshmau,
Hugh, one of his workmen and warm adj
mirers. "Stainsly shot one over by the
bridge, the other morning. You'd better
take pistol"
''l'll trust to luck and my good skates
answered Mr.. Vance, laughingly, rather
ridiculmg the notion of Evolves"
He started The night, as he had OBJ
served, was clear and frosty; very bright
and cold Half his journey had been ac-
complished when he heard a shrill, sharp
cry echoing from the woods. Then anoth-
er, as if in answer, and one at distance.
For moment his blood curdled in his
veins. What were these cries? All what
what but the wolves2
Nearer came the cry; and nearer: as if
the dreadful animals scented their victim.
lie glided over the ice like lightning, his
strides quickened by the first click he
heard from his pursuers. At first, as rap
idly as possible, in straight line; for not a
second was to be lost. Every nerve and
limb was strained to its utmost tension.