Los Angeles herald., 1892-03-26
THE GRAY WOLF.

-OouA Doylo " NELLY.
THE GRAY WOLF.
Here is what was recounted to us by
the old Marquis d'Arville after dinner
at the house Of the Baron des Ravels,
Saint Hubert.
We had started stag during the day.
The marquis was the only one of the
guests who had not taken part in the
pursuit. He never indulged in the chase.
During the entire time Of the repast we
had talked of little else than the massa-
Gre of animals. Even the women inter-
ested themselves in the sanguinary and
often incredible tales, and the speakers
mimicked the attacks and the combats
between men and beasts, gesticulating
with their arms and conversing in ex-
cited tones.
M. d'Arville spoke we'll, with a GER
tain air Of poetry, a trife sonorous, but
full of effect. He had often repeated
this history, therefore he spoke fuently,
not hesitating to find choice words in
which to depict his images.
''Messieurs," he said, II have never
hunted, nor did my father, my grand
father or my great-grandfather. This
last was the son of man who hunted
more than all Of you. He died in 1894
! will tell you how.
'He was named Jean, was married
and was the father of this child, who
was my great-grandfather, and he lived
with his younger brother, Francois
d'Arville, in our chateau in the midst of
q forest in Lorraine. Francois d'Ar-
vile had remained bachelor through
love of the chase. These two hunted
from one years end to the other, with
out repose, without stop, without lassi-
tude. They loved nothing else, under
stood nothing else, talked of nothing
else, lived for nothing else than the
chase. This terrible, inexorable passion
possessed them to the heart, had invaded
them entirely, leaving no place for any
thing else.
"They had prohibited any one from
interrupting them during the chase
for any purpose whatever. My great
grandfather was born while his father
was following fox, and Jean d'Arville,
instead of interrupting the run, swore,
In the name of the saints, the rascal
might better have waited until after the
huntr
His brother Francois was even more
carried away by this passion than him
self. From the time he arose in the
morning he went to see the dogs, then
the horses, then the shot birds in the i'm
mediate vicinity Of the chateau, up to the
time Of leaving to start some larger
game. They were known throughout
the neighboring country as M. le Mar
quis and M. le Cadet, the mobiles of that
day not endeavoring like those of our
own time to establish descending hier-
archy in titles; because the son of a mar
Quis is no more count, nor the son of a
viscount baron than the son Of gen.
eral is colonel by birth; but the shah
by vanity Of our day finds profit in this
arrangement. Ireturn to my ancestors
'rrhey were, it appears, huge, long.
hairy, violent and vigorous. The young
or, even taller than the elder, had
voice 80 strong that, according to
legend of which he was the hero, all the
leaves Of the forest trembled when he
shouted. And when they leaped into
the saddle to depart for the chase it was
q superb spectacle to see these two
giants beskiding their great horses.
'Now, toward the depth of the win
tor Of this year, 1764, the cold was exces-
sive and the wolves became ferocious.
They attacked the belated country peo-
pie, wandered around the houses at
night, bowling from the setting to the
rising Of the sun, and depopulating the
stables.
"And soon weird rumor circulated.
They talked Of q colossal wolf, with
gray hair, almost white, who had eaten
two children, devoured woman's arm,
strangled all the watchdogs Of the
country, and who penetrated without
fear into the Enclosures to sniff under
the doors. All the inhabitants declared
that they had heard his shuttle, and that
it had made the flames Of the lamps
flicker. And soon panic ran through
all the province. Nobody dared go out
after nightfall. The darkness seemed
to be haunted by images Of the beast.
"The d,Arville brothers resolved to
find this animal and kill it, and they ac-
cordingly summoned all the gentlemen
Of tho country to grand chase. It was
in vain. They hunted the forest over
and searched the thickets, but did not
encounter it. They killed plenty of
wolves, bat not this one. And each
night, after the chase, the animal, as
though to avenge itself, attacked some
traveller or devoured some cattle, always
far from the place where they had been
searching for it. At last one night it
penetrated the pig stable Of the Chateau
d,Arville and ate the two finest porkers.
The two brothers were inflamed with
anger, considering this attack as bra
vad0 from the monster, a direct injury, a
defiance. They took all their strong
bloodhounds, accustomed to the pursuit
OF redoubtable beasts, and entered the
chase, their hearts provoked to fury.
From dawn until the hour when the
purple sun descended behind the great,
bare trees, they beat the thickets with
out finding anything. Finally, both
furious and desolate, and astonished that
all their skill had been baff1ed by this
wolf, they were walking their horses