158 A MONTH IN THE FOEESTS OF FRANCE. 



out, and his eyes flashing fire, while from his capa- 

 cious jaws he emitted the fathers and mothers of all 

 the snarls I had ever heard, by way of telling the 

 hound to keep his jaws off. The hound kept growl- 

 inof at him, sometimes behind him, nudging his hind- 

 quarters with his chin — at other times alongside of 

 him, licking his lips, and pushing his nose against 

 the top of the wolf's neck, just as you see a dog do 

 when he meditates pitching into another. All this 

 done in a long heavy gallop, and beautifully illus- 

 trating my expressed opinion, that the reason hounds 

 in France cannot catch a wolf is, that they do not 

 come up with him in force sufficient to roll him over. 

 My gun was to my shoulder all this time, but I 

 dared not fire, on account of the hound ; in addition 

 to which, the sight was so deeply interesting, I did not 

 desire to terminate the fun till the very last moment. 

 On they came till the wolf and hound were within 

 two yards of my boots, when I suddenly raised one 

 leg in the wolf's face, which made him dash on one 

 side, clear of the hound, and I at once fired. The 

 green cartridge never exploded, but like a ball it 

 just went over his shoulder and missed him. He 

 then crossed the ride behind me, going away aslant ; 

 and on the first opportunity afforded by the trees I 

 rolled him over, when up sprang a blouse beyond. 



