The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1875-01-28


shadows of the night he deserted the
Pickering flame of candle which shone
through the cottage window. He mag
med, also that he saw his wife peering
out at him and calling in a sad voice,
"Sholto, where are you?"
AS to himself, it was a sorrowful mo-
ment. His strong hands played their
part well, and as soon as he had wrestled
with and strangled one of his assailants
he was forced to face another in similar
manner. He did not know how many
there were, and in truth he had not the
time to count them. Only, whilst de-
Tending himself against his foes, he
thought of his poor horse, and wonder
ing whether it had reached home safely.
or was now lying victim to the thirsty
demons.
The snow beneath his feet was red
with blood, and the shifting scene in the
pale moonlight was terrible to be-
hold. In lnckless moment Sholto was
overpowered and fell heavily to the
ground. What would he not give to have
his sharp Ratchet in hand2
The warm breath of the hungry assaiI-
ants almost burned his face. Now he
felt one of them tearing at his throat: a
moment more and the game wonld be
up!
But no! God helps those who help
themselves, and it matters but little what
the nature of the struggle may be. Ona
sudden Sholto heard a loud noise-an-
other, and then newcomer, breathing
hard and maddened with courage, 1u3hed
in upon the scene, and with finity firm
ness fixed sharp teeth in the neck of the
wolf that had overpowered Sholto.
Yes, it was Arno, the faithful dog,
which, noticing the return of the horse
without it's master, and as if seeming the
danger, had gone forth on mission of
rescue. Sholto, thus assisted, arose to
his feet, while the wolf and the dog were
contending furiously for the mastery.
Next Sholto saw something which lay
glttering in the snow. He hurried
toward it and recovered the weapon,
which had been wrested from him, and
again threw himself into the contest.
Although his clothing was soaked in
blood and his strength was quite ex-
hausted, he lacked not courage.
With sturdy blow he despatched one
wolf, whereupon, a companion, mangled
and bleeding, slyly betook himself off.
The largest and strongest was still Crap
ping with Arno. It was no easy task to
rid the noble dog of his antagonist. To
be sure, Sholto continued to deal heavy
blows over the VOLTS back and legs, and
thus managed to disable him by degrees.
But the position of the dog-who lay di-
rectly under his antagonist prevented
Sholto from taking the aim that he would
have liked. At length Arno was put to
terrible agony, and, stretching out his
legs and unloosing his hold, suffered his
head to fall backward.
The moment was ripe. The Ratchet
was raised, and, with all possible force,
was buried deep in the VOLTS skull.
Without groan, the animal rolled over
in the snow. This was the last of the
contest. The thought that he was
saved fairly overcame Sholto; and he
was on the point Of lying down to rest
when the fate of his poor dog flashed
into his mind.
The moon had gone behind cloud,
and darkness enshrouded the scene.
Sholto CROPPED about and found Arno
painting and gasping for breath. Per-
haps he had received mortal wound.
But no, that was impossible, for dog so
true and.noble could not die. He bent
over him and raised his head He ca
ressed him tenderly, and paused when a
soft hand rested on his shoulder. A fa-
miliar voice sounded in his ear.
Whose was it? All, Sholto could not
mistake the voice of his wife so easily,
for she it was who had braved the terrors
of the night in search of him. You know
the rest. The candle guided them home
ward, and there in that lowly cottage
Sholto thanked God for his narrow es-
cape, and for having bestowed upon him
wife so brave and loving and a dog so
noble and true.
A good story, Herr Gabel, only little
romantic.
"Ah, sir, if you do not believe it, go
and ask Sholto. Even the dog Arno,
whom you just saw tagging behind his
masters heels, will wag his tail in rare
fashion when questioned about the affair.
The event took place five years since.
After while Sholto wearied of living in
a country exposed to so many dangers,
and moved himself and family down here.
We think, however, he will return to Lii
vonia some day, for he doesn't quite fancy
our ways of living. Such is the story.
And now, my friends, let's go over to the
gulley yonder, and I'll tell you an
other. "-HeaTth and Home.