THE DAKKIE FIDDLER. 449 



when the Indians roamed it, an<J was untraversed by a wagon 

 road for many miles. 



The profound and dreary solitude of the way could not 

 have failed to impress any one who was not either more or 

 less than human, except under conditions of entire pre-occupa- 

 tion in one absorbing thought, such as now held absolutely 

 the body and soul of the old man, in the strained tension 

 of an anxious hurry to reach the seat of operations, in exact 

 time. He was goaded at every step by the maddening vision 

 of the expectant ranks of sable gentility, rolling the whites 

 of their eyes and stamping their stocking feet upon the 

 puncheon floor, impatient of his delay; for the truth was, 

 that he had lingered a little too long over the polishing of 

 those brass buttons and the setting of that plentitude of 

 collar, and he now first became conscious of it as he had 

 come forth beneath the moon and perceived its unexpected 

 height above the horizon. 



On he dashed with unrelaxing energy, heedless of the 

 black shadows and hideous night-cries in the deep forest. 

 Wolves were howling around him in every direction, but he 

 paid no attention to sounds that were so common. However, 

 he was soon compelled to give more heed to these animals 

 than was by any means pleasing or expected. He had now 

 made nearly half of his journey, and the light opening ahead 

 through the trees showed him the "old clearing," as it was 

 called, through which his path led. The wolves had been 

 getting excessively noisy for the last mile ; and to the 

 undescribable horror of the old man, he could hear them 

 gathering about him in the crackling bushes on either side, 

 as they ran along to keep pace with his rapid steps. The 

 woods very soon seemed to the old man to be literally alive 

 with them, as they gathered in yelling packs from far and 

 near. 



Wolves are cautious about attacking a human being at 



29 



