HELP AT HAND. 67 



six set forth from the house on an expedition of discovery, 

 and arriving near the cabin on whose roof Dick was so 

 uncomfortably mounted, they discovered a horde of 

 wolves on harmony intent. The old musician maintained 

 without cessation his compulsory concert, his eyes fixed 

 upon his mortal enemies. 



Immediately the six negroes uttered a simultaneous 

 cry, and the carnivorous audience, startled into a panic 

 of terror, thought of nothing but flight. In the twinkling 

 of an eye every one had vanished, and the musician, 

 frozen and half dead, fell fainting into the arms of his 

 saviours. His frizzled hair, which, despite of his old age, 

 was black as jet that evening when he performed his 

 fastidious toilette, had, in the space of a couple of hours, 

 turned white as the snow which lay in glittering masses 

 all around. 



And thus ends my story of the Negro Fiddler and the 

 Prairie Wolves. 



