They burst from their gate helter-skelter; We counted them--four against two!

There wasn't a moment for shelter, And what could we possibly do?

The snow-b.a.l.l.s like bullets were flying, Retreat was unworthy and mean; So, all their wild volley defying, I slipped my umbrella between.

Then I called to my friend, and together, Half sheltered behind it, you know, The storm of the battle to weather, We charged at the midst of the foe.

The gateway they bravely defended, Till forced through the half-open door, And thus, in a victory, ended The battle of two against four.

HIS FIRST WOLF HUNT.

By HAROLD ERICSON.

(_Concluded from page 391._)

When we reached Cronstadt Tom's ankle pained him a good deal; he had skated five miles upon it, and the injured part was swollen.

'What about getting home?' I asked in some anxiety, but Tom declared that after a couple of hour's rest at the inn in Cronstadt, where we were stopping for a meal, his foot would be as well as ever it had been.

So it was, he said, when, at about two o'clock in the afternoon, we started for home. But there was no life in his skating, and presently he admitted that it hurt him badly. Two miles were covered with pain and difficulty, and many stoppages. Matters began to grow somewhat serious; at least, I thought so, though I said nothing of my fears. We were sitting on the ice, Tom holding his ankle against it in hopes that the cold would reduce the inflammation, when a sound in the distance caused us both to raise our heads. Several black specks had suddenly appeared upon the white ice-field behind us. Were they a party of skaters? Were they----

'I say!' suddenly exclaimed Tom. 'Wolves!'

I am not ashamed to say that my heart sank when my companion p.r.o.nounced the black, moving spots in the distance to be wolves. I was afraid of wolves, and always had been; I think most boys and girls generally are, and I fancy that 'Little Red Riding Hood' is more or less to blame for it, together with other tales in which these animals figure.

I was frightened, very frightened. My first impulse was to take to my skates and fly like the wind before the coming terror. Then, like a jet of cold water, came the thought of Tom's bad ankle. He had risen to his feet, however, at sight of the wolves, and evidently meant to forget his sprain.

'We had better be off, old chap,' he said. 'They are coming our way. We can race them well enough on skates. It's nearer to Cronstadt than to the half-way hut, but they could cut us off on our way to Cronstadt, and, besides, there is all that horrible cat-ice near the harbour. Are you ready? Skate steadily, then; no need to get done up.'

I said nothing about his ankle, trusting that the greater trouble might possibly have driven away all recollection of the lesser, and for a mile we skated evenly and rapidly forward. Occasionally we looked back over our shoulders to see how we were holding our pursuers, for undoubtedly we were being pursued. We seemed to hold our own fairly well; they had gained upon us, no doubt, but not very much. At this rate there was no danger of our being caught--if only, that is, Tom's ankle did not 'go.'

But, alas! scarcely had we covered that one mile when my companion pulled up.

'I can't go on another yard without resting my ankle, Bobby,' he said.

'Go on without me, old chap, I shall think none the worse of you; you couldn't do me any good, you know, if they caught me; besides, look here.' To my surprise and delight Tom suddenly produced from an inner pocket a small revolver. He was sitting on the ground now, and he loaded the little weapon with cartridges, which he took out of his waistcoat pocket. 'This will keep them at bay all right, so, you see, I'm as safe as ninepence. Go on, don't waste time.'

'Don't be an idiot,' said I. 'You must think me a pretty average cad if you suppose I am going to leave you alone and run away.'

Tom glanced up at me and smiled. 'To tell you the truth, old chap, I never supposed you would,' he said; 'but I had to make the suggestion.'

'Why didn't you tell me you had the revolver?' I asked, ignoring the rest of his speech; 'and what made you bring it?'

'My father said he had known wolves about the gulf in severe weather. I said nothing about it for fear you wouldn't care to come. Look at the brutes, they're only a quarter of a mile away! I feel better now; let's see how far I can get this time. If they come too near, I shall fire a shot. Unfortunately I only brought these six cartridges, so we must not waste our fire.'

For a few hundred yards Tom travelled well. We gained on the wolves, which, I suppose, observed this fact, for the leader suddenly set up a howl which set my blood running cold, and the others instantly followed suit. There were nine of them; I had counted them while Tom rested.

Manfully Tom struggled on. I could see that the exertion was hurting him fearfully.

'I don't think I can go on _very_ much farther without a rest,' he said, presently. 'The trouble is that next time we wait about they will catch us up.'

'Then you will have to shoot, that's all,' said I, as cheerfully as I could, considering that I was in reality shivering with terror.

'Yes, I shall have to shoot. One shot will be enough, I expect. Probably they will turn and run straight back to the forest at Lachta or Oranienbaum, or wherever they come from. You are not frightened, old chap, are you?'

'_Rather_ not,' said I. Then I added, conscientiously, 'At least, not _very_ much. It's--it's rather a new experience for me, you see.'

A minute later Tom pulled up and sat down.

'Come behind me,' he said, 'just in case any of these brutes _should_ spring at us before I get my little toy to work on them. I shan't shoot until they are within ten yards or so. I want to make sure of one, then they will stop and eat him if they don't run away.'

I got behind Tom and crouched down, and we watched them coming. They were now in full cry, heads down, like a pack of hounds. When within fifty yards of us, the leader raised his head and saw us. He gave a great yelp, and came scudding along, followed by his band. At twenty yards they slowed down and stopped, seeming to lose heart. Suddenly one sat down on his haunches, and his example was followed by two or three others.

As for me, my teeth were all a-chatter with terror. I wished to suggest to Tom that he should try the effect of a careful shot at one of the sitting wolves, but no words would come. I felt as though I were in the grip of a night-mare, awake to the horror of our position, and yet quite helpless. Tom suddenly spoke.

'I am going to fire,' he said. 'Don't speak or move for a minute.' He pointed his pistol, took a long aim, and pulled the trigger.

No wolf fell, but the shot produced a curious effect.

In an instant every wolf of the nine had 'dispersed' as though the pack had been scattered by some mysterious force. They fled in every direction except towards us. Tom uttered a cry of triumph. For a hundred or two yards the wolves careered as though they were mad. At a furlong's distance every wolf stopped and turned round. Not one of them uttered a sound.

'What a bad shot!' said Tom. 'Idiot that I was! I don't understand these things. Are you any good with them?'

I had found my tongue, and replied that I had practised at a mark occasionally. 'You take one more shot, and then let me try one,' I suggested.

'Good,' said Tom. 'I have been thinking. It's only about a mile to that wide crack, the ten-footer. I think I could skate as far as that with an effort. When we get near, I'll rest if necessary, and after that we will fly it. I doubt if the wolves will follow us over.'

This was an excellent idea. We started off. If either of us had hoped that the savage brutes at our heels would have been discouraged from further pursuit, we were soon disappointed, for within a minute all nine were again in full cry after us at two hundred yards' distance. For three-quarters of a mile Tom skated on in agony.

'Now we will stop, and I will fire my second shot,' he said.

Once more our nine snarling friends found discretion the better part of their valour, and stopped at a biscuit-toss from us, whining and howling and looking grim enough to frighten the most iron nerves. Perhaps Tom's hand shook a bit; at any rate, he missed again, and handed me over the revolver with an exclamation of disgust. And again the wolves retired, but not so far away this time.

We waited two or three minutes.

'Now we'll go,' said Tom, 'and this time we will reach and fly the water-jump without stopping. Let them come close to our heels till we are within fifty yards, then put on all the pace we can, and over we go.

I want to see whether we can't drown one or two of the brutes; they don't look where they are going.'

We carried out this programme to the letter. At fifty yards from the fissure we put on all the pace we could command, and we flew the open water side by side, Tom clearing it beautifully in spite of the wrench it gave him to do so. Then we stopped.

Having gone slowly for the last quarter of a mile, we had allowed the wolves to gain upon us. This had excited them, and as we cleared the water we could hear them in full bay close behind us. I dare say the sound at our heels gave us wings.

The pack reached the fissure but ten yards behind us. The leader and three others realised too late that they must rise to a leap; they endeavoured to stop, but their impetus carried them over the edge and into the water; of the rest, two leaped in a half-hearted manner, being in two minds whether to stop or jump; both fell short into the water.

The last three cleared the fissure, and these, of course, occupied our attention, for, too excited to remember discretion this time, they made straight for us, open-mouthed. Tom had hurriedly taken off one skate, and stood swinging it behind me, intending to make a fight of it. As for me, when the nearest wolf--looking all fangs and blazing eyes--was five yards from me, I pulled the trigger. I think I shut my eyes, but of this I am not quite certain.

To my complete astonishment, the wolf came rolling and tumbling to my feet, made an effort to rise, swayed and fell back dead. The other two turned, took the fissure at a bound, and fled away. In the water two wolves were still struggling; the rest had presumably gone under the ice while endeavouring to climb over the slippery edge. Tom s.n.a.t.c.hed the pistol from me with a cheer; he put the muzzle to the ear of one of the wolves and fired, killing him on the spot. The last made an heroic effort, and succeeded in climbing out on the farther side. We pulled Tom's wolf ash.o.r.e.

Then we sat, like two children, and shouted and howled for joy and triumph. We took off our skates and pocketed them, and fastening the straps around the necks of our wolves, we actually dragged them, with many stoppages, to the half-way hut. Here I left Tom, whose ankle was swollen to the size of a dumpling, and skated home as fast as I could move, realising that our 'people' might be anxious if some one did not come to tell the tale. I went on winged feet, so happy was I, and I think if a pack of five thousand wolves had fled howling at my heels, I should not have cared much.