Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1888-10-12

and a father-I had forgotten. Get you
gone, Svansten; my eyes are opened now
and see far ahead. Fly, man, whilst there
is yet time; take these pistols with thee, too,
and remember in the days to come, there was
no evil between us at the end. Go, l say, the
horses are killing themselves"
He held up the weapons, and finding that
the driver was too occupied to take them
from him, placed both pistols at his feet in
the sledge, as Svansten answered.:
ssSayest thou this?' he cried. ssBy heaven,
Skien, such an enemy as thoG makest it
worth thousand friends. Leave thee, man?
Neverl Mount, l command it; else will
shoot these frantic beasts myself God will
ing, we shall yet sleep in our home tonight;
if not, then together here" Eric hesitated
for brief moment. The thought of great
sacrifice was strong within him, but his old
enemy would not be denied. His will was
as powerful as the others, and most assuredly
both men must have persisted had not Skien
relented. At last, therefore, yielding to
Svantsen's entreaty, he crawled exhausted
upon the hinder seat of the sledge and not
moment too soon, the men were whirled
away together.
Five short minutes later the wolves arrive
upon the spot where the snow is trampled
and Skien's footmarks cease. Now they
are racing, for the quarry shows up black
and clear against the snow, little more than
a mile ahead.
Let us once more hunt with the hunters
and watch them as-their feet falling like
the pattering rustic of rain-they come on,
one hurtling against another. Their mouths
are open, the hair upon their backs is begin
ming to stiffen and stand on end, their phos-
phorescent eyes are fixed upon the flying
sledge. A long, stern chase it has been, and
seems like to meet with a grand reward if all
goes well. So yard by yard they get upon
better terms with the vehicle. True, the
black horizon gradually changes into irregu-
lar outlines of a pine forest; true also, be-
meath the trees CLEAN sparks of red and yell
low fire that suggest human habitations; but
Joksdal is distant mile yet, whereas 800
yards alone separate wolves and men. Now
long pull, a strong pull, and pull alto
gether, and then-supper.
Like the bellows of forge sob the horses,
and need not the heavy whip, though that
now and again Kisses in the air over their
heads. Great jets of steam burst from their
gaping nostrils, and they show the bloodshot
whites of their eyes. Since Skien got upon
the sledge not another word has been spoken.
RNdluoCH I'll lf0o Will uluCGuG uGlf6 sillu
judgment, keeping the horses steady, but get
ting everysinch out of them he can. If either
comes down it must mean certain death to
all. Szien sits crouched up at the back Of
the siedge with his face to the oncoming
multitude and pistol in each hand. Nearer
get the wolves and nearer They are now
going about twenty yards in a hundred
quicker than their prey. The big sledge rug,
manufactured from the skins of their defunct
kindred, is thrown to them; but what are
dead wolves coats as an article of food
compared with the shining sides of those gal
Looping animals, now only fifty yards in front?
1t hardly stays them for moment.
Joksdal is still nearly quarter Of mile
off. Svantsen jodels and the clear notes go
echoing forward to the village and back to
the wolves. They give tongue in answer and
strive each to be alongside the horses before
the other. That last long drawn howl may
save the sledge, for it had told those at home
everything. Svantsen sees lights flashing in
the distance and knows that doors are being
opened, dogs let loose and guns hastily
snatched from their places. Twenty-Five
yards only now between the sledge and the
foremost wolf. Skien cocks his pistols and
keeps cool as statue Graabeen No. l is
grand, determined fellow, believe me. They
look at one another, the man and BRUTE and
there is more expression now in the VOLTS
face than in the mans. One, reckoning
without his host, his sharks eyes glittering
like stars, is divided between an attack upon
Eric or the horses. The human being feels a
pistol trigger under each forefnger and
waits; for it will not do to miss. Twenty
yards, eighteen, ifteen-then Svantsen
shouts to his comrade:
''The dogs are comingl"
Skien does not answer, and keeps his eyes
upon the foremost wolf. Ten yards off he is
now. The deep baying of big dogs and shouts
of men mingle with the cry of the wolves,
the snort of the horses, and the bells ringing
on over everything. Then Skien feels the
sledge slacken speed and raises his arm not
moment too soon. Graabeen No. sees a
stream of fire dart toward him, feels a terri
BILE blow in the chest and falls writhing,
bleeding and crashing his teeth in the cold
snow. Some among his companions stop to
do the last honors to their old leader, but
more than half keep on. Skien shoots
another, and hurting his pistols with ire
mendous force among them, breaks the leg
of third. Svantsen gives the horses their
heads, and strikes at the long gray brutes
now streaming upon either side. Here come
the dogs at last, fresh and full of fighting.
Twenty there are, if not more, all eager for
the tussle with The universal enemy. They
rush into the wolves and at the same mo-
ment one of the horses comes down with a
crash, struggles upon his knees, falls again,
shrieks, tries in vain to rise and rolls over,
beaten, upon his side. The other breaking
the trace and lashing out, comes near brain
ing his driver, but instead catches wolf
oh, 49, e.
the chest, and hurls him back five yards
Skien has wound his coat round his left arm
and uses a knife with his right The
freed horse, with dozen wolves leap
ing at its head, runs straight into the
rescuing party. Then torches CLEAN and
men yell and fight hand to hand battles
with gaunt, draggled brutes that snap at
their threats, fill the air with the strong
vulpine smell of their kind, and when a
blow gets home, howl and kick out their lives
in the reddening snow 1t was a notable and
terrific battle while it lasted, and forms topic
for conversation to this day in JoksdaL Half
the dogs were killed, and more than one
brave man who rushed to the rescue will
carry deep tokens of the fight to his grave
Svantsen came worst off. His left arm was
badly torn and one bite in his throat must
jumped a little stronger. Skien fought like
demon, and escaped marvelously with
scarce more than an ugly scratch or two.
One horse died where it fell, the other escaped
with his life, but was ruined for all practical
purposes Svantsen's wife, however, looked
to it that the excellent beast should live the
remainder of his days in honored idleness
And the wolves, though decisively beaten,
cannot be deemed disgraced. Upon the field
they left four-and-twenty slain and some
eight or nine wounded to death. Deeply de-
jected, torn, MANNED and exhausted the sur
vivors got them back to their desolate forest
homes, and, maybe, the God that sees fit to
let them live provided an adequate meal be
fore the moon had set.
For, mark you, those wolves, without
exactly approaching the fact, had achieved
great and splendid work They had brought
to the surface much that is noble in human
hearts; they had in two short minutes done
that which years of time might not have
done; they had destroyed a bitter feud and
built upon its ruins friendship which will
stand while the friends have lifelong
mans Magazine.
A Chicago Bootblacl1's Scheme.