THE WOLF. 177 
a firm grip of the Wolf's tail, which he wound round 
his left arm, and although the maddened brute 
scrambled and twisted and strove with all her might 
to force herself down to the rescue of her cubs, Polson 
was just able with the exertion of all his strength to 
keep her from going forward. In the midst of this 
singular struggle, which passed in silence, his son 
within the cave, finding the light excluded from above, 
asked in Gaelic, ‘Father, what is keeping the light 
from us?’ ‘If the root of the tail breaks,’ replied 
he, ‘you will soon know that.’ Before long, how- 
ever, the man contrived to get hold of his hunting- 
knife, and stabbed the Wolf in the most vital parts he 
could reach. The enraged animal now attempted to 
turn and face her foe, but the hole was too narrow 
to allow of this; and when Polson saw his danger he 
squeezed her forward, keeping her jammed in whilst 
he repeated his stabs as rapidly as he could, until 
the animal being mortally wounded, was easily 
dragged back and finished. 
‘These were the last Wolves killed in Sutherland, 
and the den was between Craig-Rhadich and Craig- 
Voakie, by the narrow Glen of Loth, a place replete 
with objects connected with traditionary legends.”* 
This story was related by the Duke of Sutherland’s 
head forester in 1848 to Mr. J. F. Campbell, who has 
narrated it in his “Popular Tales of the West 
Highlands,” vol. i. p. 273. 
“ Every district,” says Stuart in his “ Lays of the 
Deer Forest,” “has its ‘last’ Wolf,’ and there were 
* Scrope’s “ Days of Deer Stalking,” p. 374. 
