ited to see what
they would do. In my late combat with the bear, I had the anticipation
of a meal off my foe, should. I prove the victor, but on this occasion
I had not that incitement to exertion, for a man must be very hard up
for food who could complacently dine of the flesh of a gaunt wolf at the
end of winter; and even the cubs, though probably not quite such tough
morsels as their parents, had already far too much muscular development
to afford satisfactory employment to the jaws. Though, however, I did
not want to eat the wolves, they wanted to eat me, which was quite
sufficient reason to make me excessively anxious to gain the victory.

After baying at me for some time, the brutes in the front line once more
stealthily advanced, followed by those in the rear, whose forms appeared
less and less distinct, till all I could make out of them were their
fierce eyes, glaring like hot coals through the darkness. By this time
a good portion of the sticks had caught fire. As the wolves got nearer,
the scent of the remainder of the bear steaks, which I had put aside for
my breakfast, filled their nostrils; their eagerness increased, and,
with a loud howl, they in a body sprang towards me. I must conquer
gloriously, or die and be eaten ignominiously; so, seizing a bundle of
the burning sticks, I threw them in among the advancing ranks, and then,
with loud shouts, grasping my pole, sprang out towards my foes, and
belaboured them with might and main about their heads. They snarled and
bit fiercely at the pole, but did not advance. Still they would not
take to flight, and as it was very evident I should have a disturbed
night's rest if they remained in the neighbourhood, I was very anxious
to make them decamp. I got together, therefore, an additional supply of
burning sticks. These I put in readiness for use. Then I levelled my
rifle at one of the foremost and biggest wolves, and knocking him over,
brandished my pole in one hand, and hurling the burning sticks among
them with the other, I made a second furious onslaught on the wolves.

With unearthly howls and cries away they fled, leaping and scrambling
over each other like an affrighted flock of sheep, and in complacent
triumph I returned to my sandy couch, expecting to enjoy a quiet and
comfortable night's rest. A heap of stones served me now for a pillow.
Some of my readers may say, if you had had a downy couch or a
feather-stuffed pillow, in a nice room with c