, 1889-05-18
AN OLD HUNTERS STORY.
Why the Gray bearded Stranger Hated
the Sight of a Wolf kin


his iron gray beard, and l saw upon
his goods that his name was Cross.
He was q tall man, and his build
showed that he was q man of great
muscular power. He examined the
wolf skin for a moment then threw it
from him, muttcring n deep curse, the
meaning of which l did not under
stand / privately asked my friend
what it meant
"Ahr" said he. 'he has a sad story
TO tell"
Ny neighbor, who had only come as
a guide, went home in the afternoon,
and n Mr.. Cross was somewhat ia
tigued by the journey from the set
Element, VIC did not leave the camp
that day. / was very anxious to hear
Mr.. C.is story, and after supper we sat
around the fire for some time, telling
about the o and the various
things that had happened during our
few days stay at the head of Bog river,
which was the name of the locality
where we were stopping. After my
friend and | had exhausted all our
tales, not forgetting that awful nights
watching at the camp door we asked
Mr.. Cross TO tell us something of his
hunting exploits.
Il have but one story" he replied,
that will much interest you, but / do
not often tell it," and l saw n tear
glistening in his eye.
told him we would be pleased 10
hear his story, but did not wish for
him To call anything TO remembrance
that would cause him grief. He re
piled: THE wound has been healed
these many years, though often now
it seems TO bleed afresh; but my story
now ] will tell.
II was born in the northern part of
Vermont My father was n farmer,
and MS | was the only child, my fa-
ther gave me the homestead He died
quite young and the care of the farm
devolved on me. My mother soon
became lame and unable to do the
work, and l resolved TO marry. Dear
Louisa, q farmers daughter who
lived but a few miles away, was the
n to whom l gavo my heart and
hand, and, indeed, she was worthy of
the love Of any man. My mother soon
after died, and we laid her beside her
husband in tho churchyard.
Two children were born to us,
Tommy and Louisa. We watched
over them in their infancy, and loved
them dearly. Tommy was z, and
Louie, as We called her, was s. School
was TO commence tho next Monday,
and as they had never been TO school,
VIC made arrangements TO send them.
The schoolhouse was about one-half
q mile off, beyond n piece of woods.
l went with them the first and second
day, and met them ut night, MS they
tHraFsa a ffenI1 ~ no fh,l,,r1 tl, ,,.,1.
alone; but tho third day Tommy said,
Papa need not go with us any moro,
We a go alone | granted their
wish, and soon saw them disappear,
going toward the schoolhouse, swing
ing their little dinner pals.
They had been gono but n few
minutes. l had taken up my ak, and
was about commencing to cut some
wood. l heard little Tommy scream:
% dear, papal o dear, papar burst
upon my ears; and ut the same mo-
ment l heard little Lulie call mamma,
mammal 1t is needless TO say that I
rushed to their rescue, tightly grasp
ing my aX. In n minute l saw two
wolves tearing my dear children to
pieces. With an unearthly yell, /
rushed upon them. One left my child
and sprung upon me; he lay dead tho
next instant. / sprang upon tho other
that was tearing the flesh from the
check of my little girl; but no ran
swiftly away. Poor little Lulie was
dead; little Tommy raised his torn
and bloody hand, and family said:
% papa, I wish you como forer 1t
was his last words; in u few moments
he breathed his last. / took my dear
mes in my arms, and carried them TO
my house. My wife was at the barn.
Hay them on the bed; my vito soon
came in. She looked upon her chill
dren, uttered a fearful wall of sorrow,
and fell almost ~lifelcss upon the floor
The shock was too much for her, and
indeed, more than many mothers
could have stood, and within ono
month she died raving maniac. She
sleepsin Vermont beside her dear babes
she loved so we'll" When he had fin
ished his story there was not a dry eye
in the camp, and for some time not q
word was spoken. But tho evening
was far spent, and We 500 retired to
our beds TO dream over tho events of
the day. Thomas A. Crabtree in Lew
iston Journal.