Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1873-02-15
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A RACE FOR LIFE.


the shores OF Stephens River "a small
stream emptying into the Casco bay) a
man named Peter John, an honest upright
fellow, good neighbor and friend, put
with one abominable habit that won him
many enemies, and caused much dis 'om-
fort and even suffering to those around
him.. This was an almost irresistible
fo1dness for practical joking that would
not allow him to let an OPPORTUNITY pass
unimproved, wherein he could CRAFTY TINS |
special passion Of his being.
There came a time, however, when the |
exercise of this popularity brought upon
him an ordeal SO sharp that it cured his |
unfortunate propensity, to the great Joy
of his friends and family. The process
was disagreeable, but the cure was effect
nal and permanent.
One day Peter had been at work few
miles from home After his days labor
was finished. his employer invited him to
partake of the evening meal with him.
This invitation Peter accepted. and then,
his system fortified by hearty supper, he
commenced his journey homeward.
The path which Peter trod that night
would lead one to-day through cultivated
fields and by many pleasant farm houses !;
but then it was an unbroken forest
Il was dark, cold December night, the
wind swept fitfully among the great pines
and beeches, and strange, moaning sounds
went sobbing through the forest; now and
then an owl uttered its hoarse cry, or the
sudden rafting of the dead leaves told
where some timid animals scurried away
from sound Of footsteps.
But Peter was strong and stout hearted,
and trudged quietly along, without pay
ing much attention to the sights and
sounds around him, until he had achieved
perhaps one-half his journey. when sud
denly his ears caught the sound of a horses
feet descending the long rocky path be-
hind him. Gradually the sound grew
nearer, until the sharp, peculiar voice OF
the horseman could be heard, urging the
beast to a faster gait.
.'Ah! hat said Peter to himself, as he
heard the familiar tones, .'that is uncle
Tom Barry"
Now Uncle Tom and Peter We're neigh
bors, that Is to say, their clearings lay
about q mile apart, and none knew better
than Peter that the old man was naturally
Of a timid disposition, and furthermore,
that nothing inspired him with greater
fear, nothing that he had not rather meet,
than wolf
No sooner, therefore, had Peter become
convinced that the horseman behind him
was his neighbor, than he resolved to
use this trait Of Uncle Toms as a means
Of working out what he considered would
be a most practical joke. His plans were
soon laid. and he proceeded to put them
in execution. Creeping through the un-
dergrowth, which bordered his path, he
crouched down and patiently awaited
the approach Of his victim He had not
waited long before Uncle Tom, his horse
at sharp trot and himself casting tmid
glances around, arrived opposite to his
place of concealment. Peter allowed
him to pass few PAGES, and then spring.
ing forward on his hands and knees. he ut
tered one or two snarlng yelps, followed
by the loud, clear, gathering cry of the
wolves.
The effect upon Uncle Tom was elcc-
trical. Springing half way out of his
saddle, he uttered q scream of terror, and
then, STOPPING until his head nearly
touched the name, he plunged his spurs
into the horses TANKS, and was off down
the road like a shot. As for Peter. he
rolled over on his back and kicked his
heels in huge enjoyment of success. Loud
and long he laughed, occasionally varying
the performance by making the forest
ring with repetition of the wild savage
cry that had struck such terror into Uncle
Toms heart. But there is an end to all
things; and SO after while, there was
an end to Peters mirth, and he was about
to resume his journey, when he heard a
sound that sent the cold shivers coursing
over his body, and almost froze the blood
in his veins. The wolves had heard his
successful imitation of their music, and
were coming down, full cry, upon him.
In an instant he realized his position and
peril. From the sounds he knew that the
wolves were coming down on each side of
the path he had just travelled, and there
fore the nearest point of safety was his
own clearing more than mile away.
All this passed through his mind like a
flash, and then calling all his energies in
to play, he dashed down the path with
scarcely less speed and terror than did
Uncle Tom Barry. Peter was q famous
runner, and had come off victor in many q
trial OF speed, when the people had come
together at a raising or log-rolling; but
this was no holiday game. He was not
taxing his muscle to win the applause of
admiring friends, or to CRAFTY an amhi-
ton to excel
The race was for life.
Down the long slope that led to 'pitkin's
Hollow and up the ascent beyond fled
Peter, while hardly hundred yards be-
hind came a snarling pack. hungry and
fierce. The life of an unarmed man
would not be worth minutes purchase
could they once surround him. This Pet
er acknowledged TO himself, as a thought
entered his mind to stand on the defen-
siye; SO he abandoned the thought before
it was fully formed, and braccd himself
anew for the flight
Down another long slope, across broad
sheet of ice at its foot, and Letherine's
Hill. with its long straight ascent. lay be-
fore him. He shuddered as he glanced at
its ragged side. for he felt that his
strength would scarcely suffice to carry
him to the top. The Precipitation stream
ed from every pore, his breath came in
short, wheezy. gasps, his steps were be.
coming unsteady, and once striking his
foot against loose stone. he prevented
himself from falling only by an extra ex-
ertion SO great that the blood spurted
from his nostrils, and flames seemed to |
lean hefora his vision