Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1898-10-15
HOW HUNGER FEELS.
Sensations of Fasting Arctic Explorers In
Sight of Musk Oxen.

Sight of Musk Oxen.
wonder if Il single one of my
readers really knows what hunger
isl Henson and myself were worn
to tho bone with scant rations and
hard work, and that hard work had
left the little covering 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 adequate
meal in nearly 600 miles of daily
snowshoeing-had Weakened every
merciless hunger fang that during
the previous weeks had been grad
uauy dulled into insensibility. 1t
had been the taste of freshly spilled
blood to the long tanned tiger, and
now tho big black animals before us
were not game, but meat, and every
nerve and fiber in my gaunt body
was vibrating with 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
rock against the teeth. Painting
and Quivering with excitement, we
lay for few moments. We could
not risk shot at that distance.
DO you think they will come for
us!' said Matt.
"Gol knows! 1 hope SO, boy, for
then we are sure of some of them.
Are you readyl"
Eyes, sir.
Come on, then"
One of us ono side of the big bowl
der, tho other the other, and we
dashed across tho rocks and snow
straight toward them. There was
snort and stamp from the big bull
guarding the herd, and the next in
slant every animal was on his feet
and, thank God, facing us. The next
they were in close line, with lower
cd heads and horns. 1 could have
yelled for joy if had had the breath
to spare. Every one of us has read
some Of the thrilling stories of trav.
elers in the Russian forests, chased
by hungry wolves, and our feelings
have been wrought up to the highest
pitch of sympathy for tho 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 stomachs9 l
know now what their feelings are,
and my s..'mpathies are with the
wolves l was a wolf myself at that
moment.
Wewere within less than so yards
OF the herd when tho big bull, with
81 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, l pull
cd my winchester to my shoulder
and sent 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. l felt that was
strong enough and hungry enough
and wolf enough that, had the bull
been alone, l could have sprung
upon him barehanded and torn the
lifeblood frolnAlis throat, but against
the entire herd we would have been
powerless. Once tho black ava
lanche had gained momentum 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 MATHS rifle crack
ed fell with a bullet back of her
fore shoulder. Without raising my
rife above my hips, another one
dropped. Then another for Matt.
Then the herd broke, and we hur-
ried in pursuit.-Lieutenant Peary
in Windsor Magazine.