The record-union. [volume] (Sacramento, Calif.) 1891-1903, 1898-09-09
WASSERMAN, DAVIS & co.
HOW HUNGER FEELS.
Sensations of Fasting Arctic Ex-
plorers in Sight of Musk Oxen.

l wonder if a single one of my read
ers really knows what hunger is. Hen
son and myself We're worn to the bone
with scant rations and hard work, and
that hard work had left the little COW
ering on our bones in the shape of
lean, tense muscles and wires of SineW.
The supper from the hare, that meal of
fresh, hot, luscious meat, the first ad-
equate meal in nearly six hundred
miles of daily snowshoeing, had waken-
ed every merciless hunger fang that
during the previous weeks had been
gradually dulled into insensibility. 1t
had been the taste of freshly spilled
blood to the long tanned tiger; and now
the big black animals before us We're
not game, but meat, and every nerve
and fiber in my gaunt body was vi
brating with a savage lust for that
meat-meat that should be soft and
warm. meat into which the teeth could
sink and tear and rend, meat that
would not blister lips and tongue with
it's frost, nor ring like a rock against
the teeth. Painting and quivering with
excitement we lay for a few moments.
We could not risk a shot at that dis
lance.
do you think they will come for
us?" said Matt.
God knows 1 hope 50, boy; for then
we are sure of some of them. Are you
ready?"
Yes, sir"
Come on, them.
One of us one side of the big bowlder,
the other the other, and we dashed
across the rocks and snow straight to-
ward them. There was snort and
stamp from the big bull guarding the
herd, and the next instant every ami
NAL was on his feet, and, thank God,
facing us; the next they were in close
line with lowered heads and horns. I
could have yelled for joy if l had had
the breath to spare. Every one of us
has read some of the thrilling stories
of travellers in the Russian forests,
chased by hungry wolves, and our feel
ings have been wrought up to the high
est pitch of sympathy for the poor fell
lows in their efforts to escape. But did
any of US ever stop to think how those
other poor fellows, the wolves felt with
their empty stomachs? 1 know now
what their feelings are, and my sympa-
thies are with the wolves. 1 was a
wolf at that moment.
We were within less than fifty yards
of the herd when the big bull. with
a quick motion, lowered his horns still
more. Instinct, Providence, call it what
you will, told me it was the signal for
the herd to charge. Without slackening
my pace I pulled my Winchester to my
shoulder and sent a bullet at the back
of his neck over the white, impervious
shield of the great horns. Heart, and
soul, and BRAIN and eyes went with that
singing bullet / felt that 1 was strong
enough, and hungry enough, and wolf
enough that, had the bull been alone. I
could have sprung upon him barehand-
ed and torn the lifeblood from his
throat But against the entire herd
we would have been powerless: once
the black avalanche had gained mo-
mentum we would have been crushed
by it like the crunching snow crystals
under our feet As the bull fell upon
his knees the herd wavered A COW
half turned, and, as Mats rifle crack
ed, fell with q bullet back of her fore
shoulder. Without raising my rifle
above my hips. another one dropped.
Then another for Matt: then the herd
broke. and We hurried in pursuit-Lieu-
tenant Peary in Windsor Magazine.