FOREST LIFE. 113 





tion given of them, I had but httle pleasure in making their 

 acquaintance. Their untamable fierceness, and the untiring 

 strength which seems to be a part of their nature, render them 

 objects of dread to every benighted traveler. 



" ' With their long gallop, which can tire 

 The hound's deep hate, the hunter's fire,' 



they pursue their prey, and naught but death can separate them. 

 The bushes that skirted the shore flew past with the velocity of 

 light as I dashed on in my flight. The outlet was nearly gained ; 

 one second more, and I would be comparatively safe, when my 

 pursuers appeared on the bank directly above me, which rose to 

 the height of some ten feet. There was no time for thought ; I 

 bent my head and dashed wildly forward. The wolves sprang, 

 but, miscalculating my speed, sprang behind, wliile their intend- 

 ed prey glided out into the river. 



" Nature turned me toward home. The light flakes of snow 

 spun from the iron of my skates, and I was now some distance 

 from my pursuers, when their fierce howl told me that I was 

 again the fugitive. I did not look back ; I did not feel sorry or 

 glad ; one thought of home, of the bright faces awaiting my re- 

 turn, of their tears if they should never again see me, and then 



