A thrilling incident in American country life is vividly sketched in
"Evenings at Donaldson Manor." In the winter of 1844, the relater went
out one evening to skate, on the Kennebec, in Maine, by moonlight, and,
having ascended that river nearly two miles, turned into a little stream
to explore its course.
"Fir and hemlock of a century's growth," he says, "met overhead and
formed an archway, radiant with frostwork. All was dark within; but I
was young and fearless; and, as I peered into an unbroken forest that
reared itself on the borders of the stream, I laughed with very
joyousness; my wild hurrah rang through the silent woods, and I stood
listening to the echo that reverberated again and again, until all was
hushed. Suddenly a sound arose--it seemed to me to come from beneath the
ice; it sounded low and tremulous at first, until it ended in a low,
wild yell. I was appalled. Never before had such a noise met my ears. I
thought it more than mortal; so fierce, and amid such an unbroken
solitude, it seemed as though from the tread of some brute animal, and
the blood rushed back to my forehead with a bound that made my skin
burn, and I felt relieved that I had to contend with things earthly and
not spiritual; my energies returned, and I looked around me for some
means of escape. As I turned my head to the shore, I could see two dark
objects dashing through the underbrush, at a pace nearly double in speed
to my own. By this rapidity, and the short yells they occasionally gave,
I knew at once that these were the much-dreaded gray wolf.
"I had never met with these animals, but, from the description given of
them, I had very little pleasure in making their acquaintance. Their
untamable fierceness, and the enduring strength, which seems part of
their nature, render them objects of dread to every benighted traveler.
"There was no time for thought; so I bent my head and dashed madly
forward. Nature turned me toward home. The light flakes of snow spun
from the iron skates, and I was some distance from my pursuers, when
their fierce howl told me I was their fugitive. I did not look back; I
did not feel afraid, or sorry, or even glad; one thought of home, the
bright faces waiting my return--of their tears, if they should never see
me again, and then every energy of body and mind was 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 at one time they would be my only
means of safety. Every half minute, an alternate yelp from my ferocious
followers, told me too certain that they were in close pursuit. Nearer
and nearer they came; I heard their feet pattering on the ice nearer
still, until I could feel their breath, and hear their sniffling scent.
"Every nerve and muscle in my frame was stretched to the utmost tension.
The trees along the shore seemed to dance in the uncertain light, and my
brain turned with my own breathless speed, yet still they seemed to hiss
forth their breath with a sound truly horrible, when 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 the smooth ice, slipped and
fell, still going on far ahead; their tongues were lolling out, their
white tusks glaring from their bloody mouths, their dark, shaggy breasts
were fleeced with foam, and, as they passed me, their eyes glared, and
they howled with fury.
"The thought flashed on my mind, that, by these means, I could avoid
them, viz: by turning aside whenever they came too near; for they, by
the formation of their feet, are unable to run on the ice, except in a
straight line.
"At one time, by delaying my turning too long, my sanguinary antagonists
came so near, that they threw the white foam over my dress, 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
caught my foot in a fissure in the ice, the story I am now telling would
never have been told.
"I thought over all the chances; I knew where they would take hold of
me, if I fell; I thought how long it would be before I died; and then
there would be a search for the body that would already have its tomb!
for, oh! how fast man's mind traces out all the dread colors of death's
picture, only those who have been so near the grim original can tell.
"But I soon came opposite the house, and, my hounds,--I knew their deep
voices,--roused by the noise, bayed furiously from the kennels. I heard
their chains rattle; how I wished they would break them! and then I
would have protectors that would be peer to the fiercest denizens of the
forest. The wolves, taking the hint conveyed by the dogs, stopped in
their mad career, and, after a moment's consideration, turned and fled.
I watched them until their dusky forms disappeared over a neighboring
hill; then, taking off my skates, I wended my way to the house, with
feelings which may be better imagined than described. But, even yet, I
never see a broad sheet of ice in the moonshine, without thinking of the
sniffling breath, and those fearful things that followed me closely down
the frozen Kennebec."