Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1879-02-19
NO. 8.
Chased by wolf-Dogs.

We debated over black coffee nntil
the last number OF the concert in the
piazza had ended in flourish Of trum-
pets, and then, without further hesita-
ton, we ordered steeds and swore We
would cross the Campagna at midnight,
through fever and damp, spite of the
brigands and the sheep-dogs and the
black holes that line the solitary road
TO Rome. Ii was -, midnight, when
we mounted. The bell of some convent
in the hills was calling the monks from
sleep to prayer; the piazza was desert
ed; a few friends who hal supped with
US stood by us to the last, and we turn
ed from them a. they stood in the warm
light of the cafe-the only light visible
at that hOur-and departed under
brisk shower of benedictions. The long
road wound down the hill between high
walls and terraeed gardens. From
time TO time we passed the wayside
shrines so common in Catholic coun-
tries; broad bars of light fell across our
path, for there was 5vsr a lamp i.l BY
some faithful hand and burning bright
ly at the feet of the Madonna. The
way grew lonely. We set forth with
songs, but our voices were lost in the
immense, the eternal silence of the vast
and vacant land. 1t came ut last-a
low growl, away off in the blackness of
darkness; long, low. wolfish growl,
that ended in sharp and vicious yelp.
which was followed by a chorus of
howls and tarks that chilled the very
marrow in our bones. ''Avanti. =" cried
our guide, as he plunged the spurs into
his horses flanks and dashed forward
into the night. We followed as best We
could; followed madly, knowing not
whittier we went, but seeking to keep
within sound of the hOOfs that now
Numbered upon the road like hail. The
wOlf-dogs were now upon us-monsters
that guard the flOcks in the Campagna
and are the terror of all pedestrians, for
in their case escape is impossible, and
more than one mangled corpse has been
found by the wayside in the morning,
the partially y-devoured remains of some
belated pilgrims, whose only memorial
Is one of the small black crosses that
are so frequent in some parts of Italy,
and which mark the spot where blood
has been accidentally or unlawfully
shed. The air was filed with the hide
Gus yelps of the infuriated pack, and
the whole Campagna seemed alive with
monsters clamOring for blood. We
plunged into the darkness, relying up
on the instinct of our horses TO keep the
road. Once off it we must have fallen
into one of the bitches that follow 1t at
intervals, or have driven full speed
against the low walls that border some
of the meadow lands, and in either case
our destruction was inevitable. / was
following the party, bringing up the
rear of the processiOn-Indian file
when suddenly everything went from
under me, and IN the next moment
was groveling among loose stones, with
my horse vainly striving TO regain his
feet ut my side. The whole earth sank
at that moment, and out of the chaos
that followed came fearful voices ask
ing if were hurt. / thought not, but
before this verdict twO-edged agony
went cOrkscrew-fashion through my
arm, from the shoulder TO the wrist,
and returned TO the elbow, where ii
threw out thousand red-hot tendrils
and struck root forever and ever.
MeanN lille a pack of dogs, awakened
by the clamor, bore down upon our
quarter, and we were in danger of be
ing intercepted, but with desperate
haste We passed them just as they leap
eel the wayside wall and struck into the
road, gnashing their teeth with rage AT
the very feet of our horses. Ii was
narrow escape; one pooE devil was
struck by the flying heels of my horse
and knocked endwise, and then We saw
dimly the gray shadowy forms slack
ening their pace. Gradually the whole
tribe retreated, the noise subsided, and
there came the gratefulest season of 81
lence that ever crept INTO my life.