Year: 1873

A correspondent gives n lively account
of wolf hunting, which is one Of the
favorite sports in those parts OF Russia
where the animals have not disappeared
before advancing civilization. AT some
abnormal hour between night and morn
ing, you are aroused by vigorous
shake and hoarse admonition to
tumble up and look sharp about 1t,
for there's no time to lose" You make
hasty toilet, and, sallying forth, see
in front of your hut, in the dim light OF
the coming dawn, huge, dark, shape
less mass, which, as your eyes get used
to the darkness, assumes the form OF n
broad, heavy, three-horse sledge, with
very high sides, not unlike an enormous
washing tub, around which fit three or
four spectral figures with lanterns-the
ftful glare making their grim, bearded
faces look grimmer and less human than
ever. Guns, ammunition, haversacks.
etc., are owed away in the bottom OF
the conveyance and last, but not least,
young pig, protesting against his
abduction with loudness and fluency
that would do honor to Hyde Park
meeting.


All being now ready, the hunters
squeeze themselves into their places,
the driver shakes his reins with a wild
whoop, and away we go in the darkness.
Mile after mile of the frozen waste goes
by like dream, till at length the spec
trail shadows Of the forests begin to
gather round us, and the squeal of our
unlucky pig (whose ears one of our
party is vigorously pinching) begin to
be answered by another sound which
no one who has yet heard it will easily
forget not the long, melancholy howl
wherewth q supperless wolf may be
heard bemoaning himself on the out
skirt of our village any night in the
week, but the quick, snarling cry OF
one who sees his food coming and wishes
to hasten it, And behold, there they
come at last, the gaunt, wiry, slouching
fellows, and their busy tails, and flat,
narrow heads, and yellow, thievish,
murderous eyes. Crack the foremost
of the pack rolls over on to his side,
kicking convulsively ; but the rest
gallop on unheeding.


Crack crack and two more fall dead,
blotting the snow with smear of dark
crimson. Some of the boldest pursuers
swarm up to the sledge, and. attempt to
leap over its projecting sides, while we
pound their heads with the butt ends
OF our pieces and chop their paws with
hutchets, and slash them across the
eyes with hunting knives, the two hind
most of our party meanwhile blazing
away over our shoulders as fast as they
can load And so for time the run
ming fight goes fercely on, making
altogether very striking tableau.


But the pace is too stiff to last, as
our leader remarks with knowing
grin. A run at full speed through the
deep snow tries even a full-grown wolf
too severely to be continued beyond
certain time, and in the face OF stont
resistance the beasts Inherent cowardice
is sure to come to the surface sooner or
later.


Already three or four gaunt, shaggy
veterans who have probably mad good
supper over night, begin to hang back
as if doubling the wisdom of risking
their lives for hypothetical breakfast.
The speed of the rest slackened by
degrees, and Mt length the whole pack
drove off as if by tacit agreement, leav-
ing us to pursue our way unmolested. AS
we emerge again upon the open PLAIN,
across which the beams of the rising
sun are just beginning to fall we see
the last of our grim followers sinking
like belated specter into the gloomy
shadows of the forest which we have
quilted.