I turned toward home.The light flakes of snow spun from the iron of my skates, and I was some distance from my pursuers, when their fierce howl told me they were still in hot pursuit.I did not look back; I did not feel afraid, or sorry, or glad; one thought of home, of the bright faces awaiting my return, and of their tears if they never should see me,--and then all the energies of body and mind were exerted for escape.
I was perfectly at home on the ice.Many were the days that I had spent on my good skates, never thinking that they would one day prove my only means of safety.
Every half-minute a furious yelp from my fierce attendants made me but too certain that they were in close pursuit.Nearer and nearer they came.At last I heard their feet pattering on the ice; I even felt their very breath, and heard their snuffing scent! Every nerve and muscle in my frame was strained to the utmost.
The trees along the shore seemed to dance in an uncertain light, my brain turned with my own breathless speed, my pursuers hissed forth theirbreath with a sound truly horrible, when all at once an involuntary motion on my part turned me out of my course.
The wolves close behind, unable to stop, and as unable to turn on smooth ice, slipped and fell, still going on far ahead.Their tongues were lolling out, their white tusks were gleaming from their bloody mouths, their dark shaggy breasts were flecked with foam; and as they passed me their eyes glared, and they howled with fury.
The thought flashed on my mind that by turning aside whenever they came too near I might avoid them; for, owing to the formation of their feet, they are unable to run on ice except in a straight line.I immediately acted upon this plan, but the wolves having regained their feet sprang directly toward me.
The race was renewed for twenty yards up the stream; they were almost close at my back, when I glided round and dashed directly past them.A fierce yell greeted this movement, and the wolves, slipping on their haunches, again slid onward, presenting a perfect picture of helplessness and disappointed rage.Thus I gained nearly a hundred yards at each turning.This was repeated two or three times, the baffled animals becoming every moment more and more excited.
At one time, by delaying my turning too long, my bloodthirsty antagonists came so near that they threw their white foam over my coat as they sprang to seize me, and their teeth clashed together like the spring of a fox-trap.Had my skates failed for one instant, had I tripped on a stick, or had my foot been caught in a fissure, the story I am now telling would never have been told.
I thought over all the chances.I knew where they would first seize me if I fell.I thought how long it would be before I died, and then of the search for my body: for oh, how fast man's mind traces out all the dread colors of death's picture only those who have been near the grim original can tell!
At last I came opposite the cabin, and my hounds--I knew their deep voices--roused by the noise, bayed furiously from their kennels.I heard their chains rattle--how I wished they would break them!--then I should have had protectors to match the fiercest dwellers of the forest.Thewolves, taking the hint conveyed by the dogs, stopped in their mad career, and after a few moments turned and fled.
I watched them until their forms disappeared over a neighboring hill; then, taking off my skates, I wended my way to the cabin with feelings which may be better imagined than described.But even yet I never see a broad sheet of ice by moonlight without thinking of that snuffing breath, and those ferocious beasts that followed me so closely down that frozen river.
DEFINITIONS:--Glinting, glancing, glittering.Zone, belt.Velocity, swiftness.Fissure, crack.
EXERCISE.--Where is the Kennebec River? In what part of our country is Maine?
