"Oh! the devil! Don't I wish I was at home with Mrs McShane."
For half an hour they continued their rapid pace, when the horse
referred to showed symptoms of weakness. Still the wolves had not
advanced beyond the piece of black cloth which trailed behind the
carriage.
"I think that, considering that they are so hungry, they are amazing shy
of the bait," said McShane. "By all the powers, they've stopped again!"
"The string has broke, sir, and they are examining the cloth," cried
Joey.
"Is there much line left?" inquired the courier, with some alarm.
"No, it has broken off by rubbing against the edge of the carriage
behind."
The courier spoke to the driver, who now rose from his seat and lashed
his horses furiously; but although three of the horses were still fresh,
the fourth could not keep up with them, and there was every prospect of
his being dragged down on his knees, as more than once he stumbled and
nearly fell. In the meantime the wolves had left the piece of cloth
behind them, and were coming up fast with the carriage.
"We must fire on them now, sir," said the courier, going back to his
seat, "or they will tear the flanks of the horses."
McShane and Joey seized their guns, the headmost wolf was now nearly
ahead of the carriage; Joey fired, and the animal rolled over in the
snow.
"That's a good shot, Joey; load again; here's at another."
McShane fired, and missed the animal, which rushed forward; the
courier's pistol, however, brought it down, just as he was springing on
the hindmost horses.
O'Donahue, astonished at the firing, now lowered down the glass, and
inquired the reason. McShane replied, that the wolves were on them, and
that he'd better load his pistols in case they were required.
The wolves hung back a little upon the second one falling, but still
continued the chase, although at a more respectable distance. The road
was now on a descent, but the sick horse could hardly hold on his legs.
"A little half-hour more and we shall be in the town," said the courier,
climbing up to the coach-seat, and looking up the road they had passed;
"but Saint Nicholas preserve us!" he exclaimed; and he turned round and
spoke in hurried accents to the driver in the Russian language.
Again the driver lashed furiously, but in vain; the poor horse was
dead-beat.
"What is the matter now?" inquired McShane.
"Do you see that black mass coming down the hill? it's the main pack of
wolves; I fear we are lost; the horse cannot go on."
"Then why not cut his traces, and go on with the three others?" cried
Joey.
"The boy is right," replied the man, "and there is no time to lose."
The courier went down on the sleigh, spoke to the driver in Russian, and
the horses were pulled up. The courier jumped out with his knife, and
commenced cutting the traces of the tired horse, while the other three,
who knew that the wolves were upon them, plunged furiously in their
harness, that they might proceed. It was a trying moment. The five
wolves now came up; the first two were brought down by the guns of
McShane and Joey, and O'Donahue killed a third from the carriage
windows.
One of the others advanced furiously, and sprang upon the horse which
the courier was cutting free. Joey leapt down, and put his pistol to
the animal's head, and blew out his brains, while McShane, who had
followed our hero, with the other pistol disabled the only wolf that
remained.
But this danger which they had escaped from was nothing compared to that
which threatened them; the whole pack now came sweeping like a torrent
down the hill, with a simultaneous yell which might well strike terror
into the bravest. The horse, which had fallen down when the wolf seized
him, was still not clear of the sleigh, and the other three were quite
unmanageable. McShane, Joey, and the courier, at last drew him clear
from the track; they jumped into their places, and away they started
again like the wind, for the horses were maddened with fear. The whole
pack of wolves was not one hundred yards from them when they recommenced
their speed, and even then McShane considered that there was no hope.
But the horse that was left on the road proved their salvation; the
starved animals darted upon it, piling themselves one on the other,
snarling and tearing each other in their conflict for the feast. It was
soon over; in the course of three minutes the carcass had disappeared,
and the major portion of the pack renewed their pursuit; but the
carriage had proceeded too far ahead of them, and their speed being now
uninterrupted, they gained the next village, and O'Donahue had the
satisfaction of leading his terrified bride into the chamber of the
post-house, where she fainted as soon as she was placed in a chair.
"I'll tell you what, Joey, I've had enough of wolves for all my life,"
said McShane; "and Joey, my boy, you're a good shot in the first place,
and a brave little fellow in the next; here's a handful of roubles, as
they call them, for you to buy lollipops with, but I don't think you'll
find a shop that sells them hereabouts. Never mind, keep your sweet
tooth till you get to old England again; and after I tell Mrs McShane
what you have done for us this day, she will allow you to walk into a
leg of beef, or round a leg of mutton, or dive into a beefsteak pie, as
long as you live, whether it be one hundred years more or less. I've
said it, and don't you forget it; and now, as the wolves have not made
their supper upon us, let us go and see what we can sup upon ourselves."