Saint Mary's beacon. [volume] (Leonard Town, Md.) 1867-1983, 1895-07-04
a Night Battle with Wolves In q
Norway Hamlet.

My father was o minister in
the small parish Of Upper Rem
dale, in Norway. When We frs
settled in Upper Rendale parsonag,
the parish had been for years un.
molested by wolves. The old fence
that had once protected tn dog
kennel had fallen TO decay, and II
had not been thought worth while
to have 1t replaced.
We had two dogs at the parson-
age, Ajax and Hector. Ajax was
q common hare hound, white and
black saddled. He was msdium-
sized and the most spirited animal
| have ever known.
We small boys had many q mer-
ry frolic with him. Often when he
had bounded far beyond us to fetch
a ball or q stick one of us had cast
he would lie down, with his head
between his paws, his eyes beaming
with ROBUSTNESS, to wait till we
caught up with him. As soon as
we were near enough to touch him
he would dart nimbly away, and
50 he would keep it up until we
dropped down, unable to take an
other step. Then he would roll on
the ground with us, bu5bling over
with mirth. He was never known
to snarl or snap at us, no matter
how rough we might be.
He flew at every dog, large or
small, that appeared on the road.
Swift as lightning, with jaws that
gripped like a wise, and with an in
domitable will, he usually came of
victorious. When he did get into
. pinch, Hector came growing to
his rescue, and that settled the mat
ter.
Hector was 8 large yellow st.
Bernard Of the long-haired kind.
We children rode him, drove him,
and did pretty much as we pleased
with him. He followed us like
shadow. The approach of strang-
ers was usually announced by him
with a few grulf barks, and then he
permitted Ajax to furnish the rest
Of the music. Smaller dogs than
Hector never harmed, and
larger ones there were not for miles
around. For Ajax he cherished
faithful, patient friendship. At
night Ajax slept in the dog kennel,
while Hector kept guard outside.
One cold, star-lit evening in Feb
ruary, 1858, my brother and I, two
small boys, were coasting on the
hill north of the parsonage, our
pointed caps drawn down over our
ears. our fingers protected by coarse
woolen mittens. The crisp snow
creaked and groaned under our
heels as we went mp the hill, und
beneath the steel runners
Of our sleds as we made our daring
flights downward. Sharply defined
shadows were cast on the snow by
the moon, and Hector and Ajax,
our constant companions, looked
with intelligent eyes ct the fairy
land scene about as.
From the parsonage woodshed
stole the lurid glow of the pine
torch. The steady sound of chop
ping there gave us that comforta-
BILE sense of security the nearness of
people always brings. Otherwise
the surrounding stiffness was un-
disturbed, save by the occasional
of some heavily laden ve-
hicle on the road or the slamming
Of door in the distance.
Suddenly my brother seized my
arm.
clark ?" whispered he.
From the thicket above us long,
hungry howl was ringing through
the night air. 1t was promptly an
swered from point still farther up
the slope, and presently from the
of the valley. Throw
ing back his head, Hector listened
intently; Ajax bristled and growled.
We boys knew thesound and shud-
dered.
Lets 60 home," said my broth.
er, lashing the sleds together.
We were on our way down the
hill when some one called us from
the parsonage.
At the door father was waiting
FOR us. He patted Hector's head
helped us boys to put up our sledl
and brushed off the snow, and ther
hurried ms into the house.
"The wolves are about" he sa;d