THE WOLVES.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XVI, Issue 29, 9 November 1888, Page 25

THE WOLVES.

(Bden|Phillpots, in Longman's Magazine.)

Whbbb the fir trees bogan to grow less clobely ; where, between their tall trunks and in their blacis foliage, gleamed a few crimson splashes of fire as the sun sank below the horizon ; where the snow lay deep and unspot'.e i, save by the multitudinous prints of their own restless feet — there, on the outskirts of the forest, at the wane of day, the wolves were gathering themselves together. Hungry they were, and eager for work to begin. There was no play among them, no leaping oier one another's backs, or wrestling, or growling pretences at fighting. They were on business — the first business of life, to keep life , and to keep life, if you happen to be a wolf, means hard work and plenty of it, with but little time to spare on the amenities of existence.

And now their old gray leaders— warriors who have survived many a scene of death and disaster to man and wolf — leap out together from the woods upon the darkening plain. They raise their noses, Bniff the wind, and shake themselves. One yawns and stretches his paws, while a puff of hot breath rises from his tongue, and, as he shuts his narrow jaws with a snap, sharp canine teeth, white as the snow itßelf, glitter in the dusk. Then began that long, slouching, tireless trot, that infernal gallop which beats horse and man and all things living for combined speed and endurance. The pack covers nearly five-and-twenty square yards of snow, settles into its stride, each beast moving and turning in unison with the rest, as a flight of birds mysteriously wheels in air. They are Norway wolves these, and experience has long since taught them what work will be necessary bti'ore supper and a return to their forest fastnesses.

Note what happens almost at the start. One lithe brute suddenly slips and strains his leg. Fearfully be glances at his companions on the right and left, but as yet they know not of the accident. All too soon, however, the pace tells upon the injured animal. Nature asserts herself in the great gray wolf, hip eyes giow like red-hot embers, hiß sinewy leg gives under him, he howlß his farewell to dear lif^,nd his place in the ranks knows him no more. But the maimed creature's sufferings are ever almost instantly, for the fittest alone survive in a pack of wolves. A ravenous fighting mass of fur and legs and teeth close in upon him, and be is gone, loaving no monument more enduring than drops of his own hot blood, which have fallen and melted for themselves deep holes in the trampled snow.

Then forward they sweep, the cannibals, on the best possible terms with one another, and feeling as you would feal after anchovy or an olive or some such preliminary to more important gastronomic efforts.

But now, ahead, there stands a solitary tree, naked save where, on its topmost branches, the dark pine needles mingle in the shapeless clump, or where, lower down, leaf cones still cling to the parent bough. In the rough bark at its foot are flecks of wool ; bat the sheep which rub themselves there in the summer are away just now. Something of greater interest meets the wolves here. Along the snow at the base of this iree, and running at right angles to the course they hare, till now, been taking, extend two parallel lines, cut by the irons of a sledge. One vehicle alone has passed since the snow last fell, but it appears to have gone by quite recently, for the scent is strong and the pack take it up without a moment's halt. Now supper becomes a probability, for where there is a sledge, there is a horse, perhaps two ; where there is a sledge, there is also a mac, possibly more than oae.

Have you ever heard the howling of wolves 1 I have, seated in a comfortable place of entertainment, with my mind at ease and certain knowledge that many iron bars separated me from the invisible howler?. Even under those circumstance!, the sound was one that made me turn cold and wonder how nature had produced anything so hideous. It is like nothing but itself ; you cannot compare or contrast ib with any other cry of living thingi ; a gale of wind ia the rigging of a big ship at sea is the nearest approach to it I know. Thin, hollow wails of sound grow and swell and burst into one demoniac howl that embodies in its volume every conceivable note of despair and eternal torture. Then the crescendo dies, sometimes as though suddenly strangled, more often in longdrawn shrieks that fade upon the ear. There is music in their cadence at times ; thoae that I heard were fairly in tune — but such a tune, such a droning, fiendish, whirling blast of melody it was. If tha nether world has its own music, ttiat music should be the howl of hungry wolves— the frantic chorus whose culmination is death to lying singers or fleeing audience, or both.

bo muoh for *he wolves I know ; so much for wolveß whose hearts are broken and whose sides have ached often under the heavy whip of their master. So much for tame wolves who do clumsy tricks and have learned the beauty of obedience, forgetting, at the same time, the watchword of all wolves — that union is strength. Return wa to my pack, which is moving like one big machine, and the component parts of which are together giving tougue. The snow, (or them, ii in peifect order ; but somebody ahead may perchance find his horses crushing through the thin frozen surface at every stride. The darkness suits the hunters well, but somebody ahead may be praying for that moonlight which, at present, only shows silver iringea on a black cloud. To them their wolf music is the dinner gong ; but somebody ahead may hear nothing more beautiful than his own passing bell in the distant ululations rising and falling and coming over the snow.

Fortunately thought and pen travel quicker even than gray wolves; therefore — though not knowing with certainty whether it can catch as again before the end of the story — we will leave the racing pack and draw level with the sledge.

Hera it is, sure enough, ploughing through the snow and spinning onfc thoae two parallel lines as it goes. The stout brown horses are galloping steadily and the solitary man sitting behing them does not use whip or word at present. He must be some miles nearer home ere the last struggle begins, and he not only knowß the road well, but cm also guess with tolerable accuracy at tbe distance wbich still lends enchantment to the wolf music in the darkaess behind him. Physically Rollo Svantocn is a typical Norwegian— strong aad in the prime of life. He has bc^n in passing peril from the wolves before to-day ; the rug now wrapped about him, one corner of which flaps and rustles in the snow, is made of wolf skins. To-night he appears anxious, however ; his borses are powerful but not fle?t, ana in his judgment, when the journey is eDded, there will be a very short quarter of a mile between his sledgo an! its pursuers. As though to encourage him the moon at last uses free of the far-itretching cloud that till the present has hidden it. A clear, white light floods the darkness and the suowy plain begins to widen out upon every side aa the driver, rising in his seat, casts one searching glance ahead, looks to the fastening of a big leathern bag which is tied to the floor of the sledge, and then gazes long and carefully behind him. Tes, there they are, just a little dark shadow on the waste, a shadow which one le?s experienced might have overlooked altogether, but a shadow that is moving hardly less quickly than those cast by the rack of broken clouds drifting across the moon.

What Svantsen had seea in front of him was a black line on the horizon and a tall finger post, still lur ahead, where two roads met. What he had not seen was a figure on foot, travelling towards the same black line upon the horizon.

The pedestrian is moving but slowly, and has very little more running left in him. The snow retards every step and clogs in lumps upon the heels of his boots. There is no track to go by, but he keeps as straight as he can for the tall finger post. To reach ihe black line before those flying feet in the rear have closed with him, is, ha knows impossiole ; and yet he staggers forward. He cannot help himself. The instinct o£ self preservation would make Uim struggle on even though safety were a hundred miles distant, inateid of scarce fife. And he will drag his tired body till he drops or till the wolves pull him down.

Then comes — think of it — the sound of sledge bells iv his eirs, the only earthly melody he knows that in his present sore strait can mean succour and salvation. He heeds it not at first. The Norwegians are a superstitious folk, and our poor wretch thinks that the night demons are abroad, dancing io the drifting snow wreaths, laughing at his agony, and tuning the distant howlings into the sound ot bells.

Sledge bells do not always make music. There is nothing to suggest pleasure, and plumes, and nodding of proud equine heads, in the harsh jangle that now rushes down upon the traveller. Bvantßen'a horses have long since caught the distant chorus, and their ears are

beginning to lay back and their necks to stretch out. Jangle, janglt, jangle, thud thai, thud, go hoofs and bells. A hot steam streams away from the animals, and the bright" red ray of a little lamp in front of the altdga cists a glow upon their sweating flank?. The driver is Ending up now and unwinds the lash of his long whip. His hat is off and he looks with a frown behind him. To us horge and msn and vehicle seem but the incarnation of flying terror ; to kirn on foot a charriot sent straight from God.

And thus they meet, these men, thin whom all Norway conld not show two enemies more bitter. They are dwellers in the little village of JcLsdal, in Finmark, the most northern division ft' Trormso, or Northern Norway, Tbere had their fathers lived before them, and there had Svantsen, rich, proud, and the autocrat ot his hirthplao«, cruelly wronged Eric Skiea. a young herdsman, and a poor oae.

An oIJ, stale story it was, of two men loving the same woman Young Eric had been everything to her until the other came creeping into her heart, ousting the ol 1 love and replacing it with one ten times as powerful. She dared not tell her betrothed, and upon the very cv© of their marriage Svantsen had stolen the girl away with her own consent, married htr in a distant hamlet, and then, returning, braved the black storm of rage that swept over him. All believed this step to be one of the most lawless abduction upon the man's part, and he, only thinking for his wife ana her reputation, was content that in suGh a belief Joksdal should remain. Eric Skien, however, waß wiser. He had long noted the change in his sweetheart, and the blow did not fall so heavily upon him, therefore, as his friends supposed. He was a good-hearted, easy-going, loutish fellow, not overquick ot comprehension, but a popular man among his comrades, and one with a kind soul in him. That he would nurse his revenge until it grew into something strong and terrible and could walk alone was the general opinion in Joksdal. But Skien breathed no word of his future intentions to anybo ly, and went on living and working tamely e»ough, though with most of the laughter and rough frolic blotted out ot his life. It is improbable that be would ever have seriously set about retaliation or gone far out of his way to get it. Dwellers in northern lands, all things being equal, are not so fruitful of violence and the knife as hot-oloo'ied men of the south. Nor have they quite such keenness and capability for either suffering or joy. Their eensibi ities are somewhat more blunt and there is more prose and less poetry in their lives, less sunshine and more hard work. I speak, of course, of the lowest social classes ; Skien was a shepherd ; Svantsen the keeper of a small inn.

And now — a year after the catastrophe — they meet, the one flushed and hot, and nearly spent with his hard running, the other cold and white, and with all his wits about him. Skien, thinking to see a friend, looks up at the man in the sledge. As he does so anxiety changes to incredulous and savage jjy; the howl of wolves falls unheeded upon his ear ; he clutches hard at something hidden in his belt and shows his teeth. The other, with an iron hand upon the reins, checks for an instant the Hying sle Ige and keeps pace with his old enemy. One of the struggling horses, arrested in his ft ;ht fcr life, neighs and plunges to bo tiea. The bells clash and jangle ; for a moment the hungry thro its behind are silent ; over all the moon Bhines bi ight and cold, bringing out every detail of the same as clearly as daylight could. Kollo Bvanlsen spe>kß first : •'Ah, friend bkien,'" thuu wilt have to go at greater pace than thy present jog if Joksdal is to see thee again. Graabeea trave's a wond faster, and is no nearer to thpe than thou art to home. Wilt deign to accept a teat I It so, it is at thy service.'" •' At last we meet, then,'" gasped the other. "I had rather see tbee than t^e truest frien i and strongest horse in Norway. At last thou art in my band, Kol.o Svantsen. Nay, stay thine horse", or I \\ ill do it for thee. '

'■ Fcol ! Thou do it ? CouLlst tbou stop me a year ago 1 Then think not to hold back those mad brutes here by any act of thine." For answer Skien levelled a pistol at the heal of the horse nevest him. The barrel Hashed in the moonbgnt like a knife, and Svantsen choking m his throat the cry ot honor that iose mto it, pulled at the reins, and nearly overturn' d 'he vehicle he drovp. " 1 his is nu time f n j stm.j, man,"' ho cued." "Leap by ma, and do it quickly, or we shall both he lost." •'And why not? Thou has loft me nothing to live for. Everything that was good to me m the world his been t.iken by thee ; now it is my turn, and I could si *y the ', but that Iha 1 rath :r le ive it t j those behind." While th.3 horses w^re neiily dibloca'ing his shoulder joints, Svantsen made answer • " Think not I ftar death any more than tbee. If thou wiliest that but one ot us si all leach his home 1 care not. I plead not fjr my safety, lfast ol all at tny hauds,but otheis plead for it. Tne past is past, the wrongs I have done to thte are pas', and past atjnmg. Slay me if thou wilt, it is but justice, but be generous in thine hour ol triumph, tvive ihjs If, i-vkie >, I implore it, anl s c that what is now in the sledge lr irive.ii to :hw I leive bp'uiid. Dcjl.iro, when que^tiintd, that Ife 1 from my place and thou couldst not s - ay th : hoises to save me. ' So hr» spoke, nnd a lt>^ wave of feeing passrd thr >ugb the ottiei's mind. Ne\(>r had his hi avy bmns been so stirred, never before ta 1 the possibility of noble and heroic actions entered them, Like a dream pictuie, as his emraj's wo-ds fell upon h s ear, be saw the girl at humc nurpimr her bab,', saw the sledge dash through the village street, savv the husband reel in ( o the strong outstretched

arms of his fuends, and heard the wite'd cry of thankfulness to God. 'ihat was all ; no vision oi his oa'ii figure in the story obtruded itse'f. Jfa flasyof light ing could not be quicker thaT the thought, as it N tilled »jis brain, ami transformed every ambition, passion, desire. " Irue," he wii 1 " I have no quirrel with those in thine home. Thou art a husband and a father— l had forgotten. Get you gone, Svantsen ;my eyes are opened now and I ste fir frhead. Fly, man, while there is yet time : take these pistole with thee, too, and remember in the days to come there was no evil between us at the end. Go, I say, the horses are killing themselve?.''

He held up his weiping, anl fiading that the driver was too occupied to taka them from him placed Doth pistols at his feet in the sladge, as Svantsen answered :

" Say*st thou this?" h-3 criel. "By lleaveas, Skiea, such an enemy aa thou makest is worth a thousand friends. Laave theamaa T Never ! Mount ; I command it ; else I will shoot these frantic beasts myself. God willing, wa shall yet sleep in our homes to-night ; if not, then to^e'her here," Krii hesitated for a brief moment. The thought of a great sacrifice was strong within him, but his old enemy would not be denied. Hi* will was as powerful as the other's, and most assuredly b:>th mau mast have perisled had nat Skien relented. At las", therefore, yielding to BvantS3n's entreity, he crawled exhausted upon the hinder saat of the sledga, aad not a moment too soon, the men were whirled away t aether.

( Reid without haste, the above diulogue, if timed, would be found to take two aad a half minutes. In tact, however, it barely occupied two.)

Five short minutes later the wolves arrived upon the spot where c snow is tramplol and Skien's footmarks cease. Now they are ciiifr, f»r the quarry shows up black and clear against the snow, ;tle more than a mile ahead.

Let us once more hunt with the hunters and watch with them as — their feet falling like the pattering rustle of rain— thay came on, one hustling against another. Their mouths are open, the hair upen theirjbacks is beginning to stiffenjand stand on end, their phosphorescent eyes are fixed upon the flying sledge. A long stern cnase it ha 9 been, and seems like to meet with a grand reward, if all goes well. So yard by yard they g?t upon better terms wita the vehicle. True, the black horizon gradually changes into irregular outlinas of a pine forest ; true, also, beneath the trens, gleam sparks of red and yellow fire that suggest human habitations ; but Joksdal is distant a taile yet, whereas three hundred yards alona separate wolves and men. Now, a long pull, a strong pull, a pull together , and then— supper I

Like the bellows of a forge sob the horses and need not the heavy whip, though that now and again hisses in the air over their heads. Great jets of steam burst from their gaping nostrils, and they show the bloodshot whites of their eyes. Since Skien got upon the sleige not another word has been spoken. Svantsen drives with magnificent nerve and judgment, keeping the horses steady, but getting every inch out of them he can. If either comes down it must mean certain death for all. Skien sits crouched up at the back of the sledge with his face to the one >ming mukitulc and a pistol in each hand. Nearer get the wolves and nearer. They are now going about twenty yards in a hundred quicker than their prey. The bigsleige rug manufactured from skins of their defunct kindred is thrown to them ; but what are dead wolves' coats aa an article of food compared with the shining sides of those galloping animals, now only fifty yards in front ? It hardly stays them for am' ment.

Joksdal is still nearly a qutrter ot a mile off. Svantsen jod els, and the clear notes go echoing forward to the villags and back to the wolves. They give to'igue again in answer and strive each to bo alongside the horses before the other. That last long-drawn howl may save tie sledge, for it has told those at home everything. Svantsen see* lights Hashing in the distance and knows that doors are being opened, dogs let loose, and guns hastily snatched fiom their places. Twenty-live yarls ouly now between the sledge and the foremost wolf. Hkien cocks his pistols and keeps cdol aa a statue. Graaben No. lis a grand, determined fellow, believe me. They look at one another, thr man and brute, and t iere is more expression now in the wolf's face th.m in the man's. Oae, reckoning without his host, his Bnark's eyes glitter, ng like stars, is divided between an attack upon Eric or the horses Tne human being feels a pistol trigger under each forefing t and waits, for ie will not ao to miss. Twenty yards, eighteen, fifteen— then Svantsen shouts to his comrad : :

■• Tne do^s are coming !" Skie i do s not answer and keeps his eyes upon the foremost wolf. Ten yarK off he is now. The deep baying ot big ilo^s and the shouts ff men mingle, wnh fie cry of t r ie wolves, the snort (f the horses, and the b.dls ii"g ng on over everything, lhen Skien ft-els the sU'dge slacken speed and raises his arm Hot a moment too soon. G aabe i No. 1 s 'es a streim of fire rart toward him, feels a terrible blow in the c'h st aid fa X wiithnii?, bleeding, aad erna^hiug his teeth in the cold ni;W, Some among his companions stup to do the l,asts honours to their old leader, but more than half kep on. Skiea fl'ionts another, a 'd hurling his p'stols with tiemendous force among them, bjeaks the leg of a third. Svantsen gives the horses their heads nna s'ukes at ihe long grey brutes now stieaming upon either side, H re come the dogs at la^t, fre-ih and full of fighting. Twenty there are, if not mor ■, a' 1 eager for a tussle with the universal enemy. Tiiey rush into the wolvep. and at the same moment one of ttie horses comes down with a crisb, siru^g es upon bis knees, falls again, s v iruk3. tins in vain to lise, and rolls over beaten upon bis sice. Thu ot er, breaku g las trac -s and lashing out, comes near braining hi) driver, but instead catches a wi.lt winch bus jumped at Svantseo fair in ttie chts ,a- d bur. is him back five yams, bkieu has wound hia coat lonnd his It ft arm an.i uses a knite. with his light. The freed li ii-e witb a doz> n w ;lves leapintr at its head, luns straight into the rescuu g parly. 'lhen torchts gU am and meu yell and hght hand-tc-hand b.nt'es with traunt, draggled brutt s that snap at Uuir throati-, fill the air with the. strong vulpn c smell of their kind, and when a blow gets home howl and kick out their lives in the riddeuing snow. It was a notable and terrific battle while it lasted, and forms topic for cjnveisation to this day in Joksdal. Half the djgs were killsd. and more than one brave man who rushed to the rescue will cairy dtep tokens ci" the fight to the grave. Svantsen came woist off. His left arm was badly torn, and one bite in his throat must have been fatal had the brute who made it jumped a little stionger. Skien fought like a demon, and escaped marvellously, with scarce more than au ugly scratch orU\o. One hoi»e died w heie it fell, the oiher i scaped with i is life, but was luinei for all practical purposes. Svantseu's wife, however, looked to it that the excellent beast should live the remainder of bis da} s in honoured idleness And the wolves, though decisively beaten, cannot be disgraced. Upon the field they left four-and-twenty slain and some eight or nine

wounded to the death. Deeply dejected, torn, maimed and exhausted, the survivors got them back to their desolate forest homes ; and, maybe, the God that sees fie to let them live provided an adequate meal before toe moon had set.

For, mark you, those wolves, without exactly appreciating the fact, had achieved a great and splendid work. They had brought to the surface much thai is noble in human hearts; they had in two short minutes done that which years of time might not have done ; they had destroyed a bitter feud and built upon its ruins a friendship which will stand while the friends htive life.