While it was yet quite dark, a farm-hand rose from his warm bed to go
to the village on business. He put on a wadded jacket and fur-lined
cap, lighted a pipe--the glow illuminating his pock-marked hands--and
went out into the yard. The dogs leaped round him, uttering timid
cowardly whines. He grinned, kicked them aside, and opened the gate.
Outside darkness had descended softly from the heavens, and lovingly
overspread a tired world; greenish clouds floated through the blue-
black sea of naked space and the snow gleamed greyish blue beneath a
turbid moon. The keen snow-wind swept the ground in a fury of white
swirls.
The man glanced up at the sky, whistled, and strode off to the
village at a brisk swinging pace. He did not mark a wolf stealing
along close by the road and running on ahead of him. But when he was
near the village he came to a sudden halt. There, on the road in
front of him, a huge, lean, much-scarred wolf sat on its hind legs by
a crossway. With hideous, baleful green eyes it watched his approach.
The man whistled, and waved his arm. The wolf did not stir: its eyes
grew dim for a moment; then lighted up again with a cruel ferocious
glare.
The man struck a match and took a few steps forward: still the wolf
did not stir. Then the man halted, the smile left his face, and he
looked anxiously about him. All around stretched fields, the village
was yet in the distance. He made a snow-ball and flung it
ingratiatingly at the wolf. The brute remained still, only champing
its jaws and bristling the hair on its neck.
A moment the man remained there; then turned back. He walked slowly
at first; then he began to run. Faster and faster he flew; but, as he
neared his farm, he beheld the wolf again on the road before him. It
was once more sitting on its haunches, and it licked its dripping
jaws. Now terror seized the unfortunate peasant. He shouted; then
wheeled, and ran back blindly. He shrieked wildly as he ran--mad with
fear, unaware what he was doing. There was a death-like hush over the
snow-laden earth that lay supine beneath the cloud-ridden moon. The
frenzied man alone was screaming.
Gasping, staggering, with froth on his lips, he reached the village
at last. There stood the wolf! He dashed from the road tossing his
arms, uttering hoarse terrified cries; his cap had fallen off long
before, his hair and red scarf were streaming in the wind. Behind him
came the relentless pad, pad of the wolf; it's hot, fetid breath
scorched the nape of his neck; he could hear it snapping its jaws. He
stumbled, lurched forward, fell: as he was about to lift himself from
the deep spongy snow, the wolf leaped upon him and struck him from
behind--a short, powerful blow on the neck.
The man fell--to rise no more! A moment, and then his horrible
choking cries had ceased. Through the vastness rang the wolf's
savage, solitary howling.
V
At dusk when the snow-wind was rushing through the darkness of the
night--a wild turbulent cataract of icy air--the wolf-pack gathered
together in the valley and howled. They were calling for a leader.
The sky spread above them, wan and pallid, the wind moaned and
whistled through the feathery tops of the pine-trees. Amid the snow
the wolves sat in a circle on their haunches and howled dismally.
They were hungry and had not eaten for six days; their leader had
deserted them. He who had led them on their hunts and prowls, who
seven years back had killed their former leader and established his
own chieftainship, had now left them forlorn.
Sitting in a circle, howling with gleaming eyes and bristling hair,
they were mournful yet vicious; like helpless slaves they did not
know what to do. Only one young wolf, a brother of the one their
leader had recently killed, strutted about independently and gnashed
his teeth, conscious of his strength and agility. In the pride of his
youthful vigour he had conceived the ambition to make himself the
leader; he certainly had no thought that this was a fatal step
entailing in the end his doom. For it is the Law of the Pack that
death is meted out to the usurper of power. He commenced to howl
proudly, but the others paid no heed, they only drooped their heads
and howled in fear and trembling.
Gradually the dawn broke. Faint and silvery, the moon was sinking
through pale, luminous veils in the west; in the east there glowed a
fierce red light like that of a camp fire. The sky was still shrouded
in darkness, the snow glimmered a cold pallid blue in the half-light.
The old wolf, fresh from his kill, slowly descended the valley where
his pack had gathered. At sight of his grey, gaunt form they rushed
forward to meet him, and as they ran none seemed to know what was
about to happen; they advanced fawning and cringing until the young
wolf, with a savage squeal, dared to throw himself upon the leader in
a sudden fierce attack: then they all suddenly remembered his
desertion of them, their law which demands death for its
infringement, and with glistening bared teeth they too flung
themselves upon him. He made no resistance. He died and was torn to
pieces which, with his bones, were quickly devoured.
* * * * * * *