SATURDAY

 

 

 

 

It was a brief hesitation ; in another mo-
ment he was at her side.

“ You called me,Zella ?”

Something was struggling within her.
She would speak, yet could not; her face,
ever angel-like, was now twice Heavenly,
and crimsoned by a blush that glowed to
her very temples.

Then, softly—-while her two arms glided
timidly round his neck, and the dark eyes
raised dreamily to his—she murmured :

“Don’t go yet. Oh! Mr. Winfield, you
have taught me to love you! Stay—say you
will not go.”

No longer a childlike, thoughtless girl—
but a woman, with a woman’s greatest pas-
sion aroused, and her whole being absorbed
in a wild, idolizing affection !

He gazed at her with a vacant, half-un-
earthly expression; and as the confession
game from her lips, he could have shrieked
m the terrible misery that griped his heart.

Too late! Too late! rung the voice of
conscience; and while he met the glance of
the pure, beautiful girl who had now laid
bare the most sacred secret of her bosom,
his tongue clave to the roof of his mouth,
and his lips remained shut, as if they were
glueéjl, and pressed upon by an invisible

an .

 

CHAPTER IX.

THE TEST OF IRON.
“ Thy life was all one oath of love to me!
Sworn to me daily, hourly, by thine eyes 1”
~Knownns.
“ Oh 2 ye who cast away a heart‘s deep love,
Remember, ere affection disappears,
That keen, rcproachfnl sobs your soul may move,
Like his who lives to mourn life’s early years.”
——LAWSON.

We must not censure Zella for her avowal
of affection for Hugh \Vinfield.

His many pretty speeches, his more than
ordinary attentions, his ardent glances, and,
above all, the fatal kiss which he bestowed
the day previous, when warmed by the irre-
sistible influence of that fascination for
which he could find no name, and which he
could not shake off—all these had had their
effect upon the tender susceptibilities of the
young girl’s heart, until, in her fullful
nature, she could almost have yielded up
her very soul a sacrifice to the man around
whose neck she now clung. -

\Vhat, to her, were the unmaidenly fea-
tures of the action?—if it be unmaidenly
for an honest passion to break its imprison-
ing chains and seek responsive sentiment?
She was blind to everything, save this deep,
deep, uncontrollable feeling.

She only knew she loved him, and that he
must know it.

“ Don’t go yet, Hugh—— stay a little
longer.”

“ Oh, God ! what have I done ?” he
moaned, as his own head sunk to that
which nestled so confidingly on his breast-—
nestled there as if its ovvner already felt
how he was worshiping her, and as if he
had wooed her and won her sacred pro.
mises, in so many lover’s words.

Something was choking in his throat.
Great tears started to his eyes; his voice,
for a time, deserted him, when he had ut-
tered that speech of agony.

How could he give her up, now?

But he thought of his father, of the ruin
that stared them in the face, and of his re-
solution to save the sinking parent. For
several seconds, two mighty loves were
battling Within him—his heart was bleeding
while the conflict raged.

Then came the summoning of iron.

“ Zella! Zella ! I am a miserable, heart-
less wretch l”

She looked up at him, in surprise,'but
said nothing. .

“ Oh ! forgive me, Zella.”

“ Forgive you ?” she repeated, inquir-
ingly.

“I do not deserve your love !—-'I do not
deserve it i”

“ Why, Hugh ?” and the dark eyes gazed

wonderineg into his pallid face.
' “ Zella !-——-Heaven pity me l—-—you should,
rather, hate me. I do love you, chla—ay,
more, I know, than man ever loved woman.
But, I———I came to-day-to see you for the
last time, to bid you good-by, forever! And
I had hoped—~ Oh! how Iprag/edr—that I
had never done, or spoken, anything to win
more than your friendship. But—too late !
——too late 2” .

Tighter grew the girl, wider grew the
eyes, as the startled ears half interpreted his
meaning. ,

“ I can never, never ask you, to be mine,
Zella !” he fairly sobbed—for men can weep,
when their whole being is torn by such
overwhelming woe of spirit.

The face on his breast grew pale as death;
the hand that lay upon his shoulder began
to tremble.

Lower, lower, sunk the shapely head,
with its wealth of jetty curls; yet, though
there was a cutting pain tearing at the now
hopeless heart, not a word, not a sound
came from the nearly bloodless lips.

“ Zella i—speak to me.”

Silence itself was unbearable.

“ I thought you loved me, Hugh—you
acted as if you did. And I could not help
loving you." Her voice was hushed, and
full of an unearthly calmness.

“ I do love you i—I do! Can you believe
me guilty as I would seem ?—-oh 1 can» you
think I would be guilty of a willful plot
against your peace? There is a cruel bar--
rier between us. I can not wed with you
~—and do you think I say it with a mind at
rest? Hear me, though: I swear to you,
if ever that barrier is broken, I’ll seek you
OUT, if the search leads me to the utmost
corner of the world !——and claim» you for
my own, if you are not already wedded.
Try not to hate me, Zella; though I de-
serve that you should. Farewell- me-
well I" He almost rudely displaced her em-
brace, and ran from her.

He durst not stay another moment, else
all the iron resolve within him could not
have resisted the promptings of his passion-
ate adoration ! .

Zella stood there, motionless as a statue,
looking after his fleeing form.

When he had vanished, the dark orbs
glistened, and burning tears trickled slowly
down her cheeks.

“ Oh! Hugh—-Hugh! why did you ever
teach me to love you? Why did we ever
meet ? Yes—I can forgive you—~but~—I
can not forget—no, I can not forget. I
will never be happy again l—— never !-
never l” A low, plaintive murmur, broken
by the great, throbbing emotion which
made the budding bosom heave, and toned
the voice to a wail of sadness.

 

“ Hugh, my son, you will save me?”

Cyrus Winfield met Hugh, as the latter
was ascending the stairs to his mom, after
returning from his painful visit to chla
Kearn.

“ Yes, father; yes,” impatiently; and he

 

 

 

 

would havecontinued on, but Winfield sen.
detained him.

“And, Hugh—let it happen as soon as
poss1ble—as soon as possible; will you?
The girl loves you. There’ll be no diffi—
culty, I know. I have heavy notes to
meet, one month from to-day; and I can’t
‘realize’ on any thing. I’ve not got a
hundred dollars to my name! Say you
will be expeditious with the affair?”

“ I will make all haste I can,” answered
the young man, shutting his teeth hard,
and Speaking the words as firmly as he
could.

Great indeed was the sacrifice about to
be made in the interests of this ruined,
mind~racked, half-crazed old man—a sacri-
fice that made Hugh feel himself a very
villain, while it called for the yielding up
of brightest hopes, and the cruel banish-
uiept of true love’s holiest, most cherished
n o .

“ You will go to see Ilde Wyn at once?
-—to-night ?” pursued Winfield sen., in an
anxrous, uneven tone.

“ Yes, father, I will go to-night,” return-
ed his wretched son.

“You are a noble boy, Hugh l—a noble
boy! God bless you!” He grasped his
son’s hand and wrung it with grateful fer-
vor.

“Perhaps not so noble as you think, fa-
ther,” said Hugh, with an intense bitter-
ness which the parent could not under-
stand.

“Yes, you are noble.
me yet.
man.

“ I will try to save you.”

The young man hastily continued his
ascent of the stairs. For the effect of this
scene was to conduce toward an increase of

You will save
God bless you i” cried the old

I his melancholy and wretchedness.

0n the landing he met a shadowy, timid
form coming down—a form that stepped
aside, as if it would be unnoticed by every
one.

But he paused.

“ Mother ?”

“Hugh,” returned the loved voice of
her whose name he uttered in a tone that
was sadly faint and tremulous.

Mrs. Winfield had long suspected the
charm thatdrew her son to the cottage
home; her mother’s perception was quick
to perceive that Hugh’s heart leaned
strongly thitherward; and none so readily
share the feelings of joy or sorrow, in man,
as that one whose name is sacred, even
on the lips of the most brutal and de-
praved—“ mother.”

Knowing, as she did, the condition of
things, and partaking of her son’s unhap-
piness, she had hardly courage to look at:
him, lest fresh sorrow should ensue.

But be raised the mild, sweet face to his
lips, and imprinted a kiss on her pale
brow; then passed on, without another
word.

Cyrus Winfield stood in the parlor, with
the afternoon paper in his hands, reading
a thrilling account of the bold robbery on
the night previous.

For, through the servants, it had reached
outsiders, and the ever-watchful reporters
soon seized it.

It was pretty generally known in the
business community that Cyrus Winfield
had met with heavy losses, recently, and
that he was never so pinched in money
matters as now; and the journal, in its
comments, while it deplored the occur-
rence, contained a caustic prophecy, that
the loss—several thousands—would pro-
bably exert a harassing influence in the
merchant’s outstanding business ventures,
and present liabilities.
vertly hinted that a man who would de-
posit so much money in so unsafe a place
had but met with the natural consequences
of his carelessness.

“ Yes, yes, I see how it is l” he cried,
crunching the paper in a nervous grip;
“ they feel gleeful over my loss. They are
envious of my past prosperities; they think

am utterly ruined and broken down--
and now bite and snarl at me like curs at
thehole of a hunted hare! But they are
mistaken. Ha! ha! ha!”———ajerky, hollow
laugh-—“ they have reckoned too quick. I
shall be saved l—saved! Then see them
come back, licking the ground I tread,
fawning for favor! Hugh will marry Ilde
Wyn. She will be glad enough to ex-
change her money for the position such a
marriage will bring her. She loves the
boy !-——-she loves him wildly! I could see
that in every word she spoke of him. And
Hugh will act with speed—Cyrus Winfield
will soon be solid again ! Ha! ha! ha!”

And tip-stairs, in the solitude of his room,
Hugh was sitting where he had sat in the
morning, when conversing with his friend.

Thoughts again i—deep, woeful, burning
thoughts were flitting through his heated
brain, weaving unrest and despair.

Suddenly, he started. The surroundings
recalled an item which had slipped his
memory in the keener excitement of the
da '.

‘3‘ y Heaven!” he exclaimed; “now I
think of it, the eyes I saw in Zella Kearn,
when the pure girl clung to me, are the
eyes I sawlast night: before my senses de-
serted me, in the strangling grip of the
ruffian ! Those eyes l—hOw the idea haunts
me !——yes, I could swear to it! Oh! what
maze, what fearful suspicion is this? It
can not be—it can not be l”

(To be continued~ Commenced in, No. 143.)

 

W

ilealh-Nnich,olhe Destroyer;

THE SPIRIT LA.le AVENGERS.

BY OLL COOMES,

AUTHOR or “ HAWKEYE HARRY," “ BOY SPY,"
“inousrnns, THE scour," 1am, ETC.

CHAPTER XXXVII.
THE PHANTOM HORSEMEN.

OLD INKPADUCAH was at last safe with
his tribe,so he thought. He had long be-
fore heard of the natural advantages of this
valley for an encampment, and growing un-
easy under the punishments that threatened
him in the Territory of Iowa, he had taken
up his line of march for this valley, which
he found equaled in every respect the re-
ports he had heard of it.

Through the center of the village a little
stream found its way, while along the base
of the hills was a belt of shrubbery and
rich, succulent grass that furnished good
pasturage for their animals, so they had
poly; to leave the valley to secure game for

not .

The escarpment of hills that partially
surrounded the village ran high above the
tops of the forest trees and was outlined
against the sky like the summit of some

 

 

 

Besides, it was co-'

‘ing every heart with terror.

 

 

grim old battlement. A bird could not move
.athwart its summit without being seen by
those in the valley below.

On the second night after their entrance
to the valley, the head men of the tribe
were assembled in council near the Center
of the town. They had met simply for
congratulation—to rejoice and talk over
their new and impregnable defense, and the
glory that seemed opening to the tribe, in
their escape from their hated enemies and
from the terrible Death-Notch.

Foremost in the council was Le Subtile
Fox, who, as the reader has no doubt al-
ready inferred, was Pirate Paul, though he
went diguised. His words still seemed to
have great weight in their council, and he
was now listened to as one possessed of the
powers of prophecy; for once he had told
them that the day would soon come when
they would be forever free from the perse-
cutions of their enemies in a beautiful val-
ley far away, and although they now be-
lieved they were in that valley, La Subtile
Fox had reference in his prophecy to the
valley of Death, where their enemies seem-
ed fast hurrying them.

“‘When does the white chief return to
the village of the pale-faces ‘2” asked Inkpa-
ducah of the pirate.

“I shall go soon,” replied La Subtile Fox.

“ And what will you do with the white
squaw that calls you husband ?”

“Leave her in your care,” replied the
villain.

The chief was about to reply, when a low
eXclamation without the tent arrested their
attention.

They arose from their seats and hurried
out the lodge. The moon was up and
shining bright.

“ What is the cause of this commotion ‘8”
Pirate Paul asked of the sentinel on guard
at the door of the cOuncil—lodge.

“ Look there 1” replied the sentinel, point—
ing away toward the summit of the escarp-
ment to the northward of the town.

Every eye was turned in the direction in-
dicated, and along the crest of the hills that
were outlined against the clear, starry sky,
they beheld a single horseman riding at a
wild, furious speed. They could hear the
clear, sharp ring of each hoof-stroke upon
the stony path. They could see the flashing
of a spear-head in the moonlight. They
could see the horseman’s tall plumes nod-
ding about his head and naked shoulders,
and from these they knew he was a friend.

The watchers in the valley permitted their
eyes to follow him along the ridge until it
dipped down below the dark horizon.

Then they awaited his coming. He came
soon. He was terribly excited, and his
beast was white with foam and in the last
stages of exhaustion.

“Why, Ahlah, ride so fast?” asked Le
Subtile Fox, as he drew rein near the coun-
cil-lodge. ,

“Alilah,” replied the Indian, “has seen
terrible things. The village of the Sioux is
in the valley of the Hobbamocko. Look
yonder l”

The savages looked in the direction indi-

cated, and saw a number of horsemen ap-

pear in sight. They Were riding, or, as it
seemed, floating along the summit of the
escarpment. I

The savages stood awe-stricken, terrified.
There was something unearthly in the ap—
pearance of these horsemen. The hoof-
strokes of their animals gave forth no
sound, while both horse and rider seemed
like beings of giant proportions——-like Titan
phantoms galloping through the air. Had
their horses’ hoofs produced the leastsound,
they might have believed they were of
earth ; but the absence of sound, when they
had heard the hoof-strokes of their friend’s
horse so sharply, and the colossal propor-
tions of both man and beast, were enough
to fill every heart with misgivings.

The savages watched the strange appa-
ritions gallop along the hights in silence;
then, as they dropped from view against
the dark horizon, there followed a silence
equal to that of death. But it was soon
broken by a low cry that walled out, strik-
The sound
came from the north side of the town, and
as the terrors of the moment subsided——
when the last of the phantom-giants had
faded into darkness—other sounds were
heard issuing from the same side of the
village, and soon a low cry was raised that
ran from mouth to mouth, and the name
Death-Notch quivered in accents of terror
on every lip !

Then came a runner to the council-lodge
with the startling news that Death-Notch
had been in the village and had slain a
warrior.

The chiefs shuddered with terror, and Le
Subtile Fox grew uneasy with a strange
fear. Their supposed security and freedom
from that terrible young Scalp Hunter was,
after all, a vain hope, and he was still
haunting their trail.

 

CHAPTER XXXVIII.
A PIPE on PEACE.

BACK in the woods some two miles from
the Indian village, was a large tree whose
branching boughs and pendent creepers
gave it more the appearance of a huge ban-
ycm than an oak.

Numerous parasites, such as the wild
grapevine, wild cucumber, and Wild ivy had
scrambled up the trunk of the tree, and
creeping out upon the branches to their ex:
tretnities had inclined downward to the
earth again, thus forming a curtain of green
foliage around the tree, and an inclosure
of several yards in diameter. This in-
closure presented the interior appearance of
a huge pavilion, the tree~trunk represent-
ing the central pole.

Within the walls of this natural inclosure
were grouped seven persons. They sat be-
fore asmall fire whose light revealed their
faces and the expressions of anxiety upon
them. It was a part of our friends, the
Avengers.

Two of the band stood on guard outside
of their retreat : these were Omaha and
Old Shadow. In the background stood nine
horses bridled and saddled, and their drip-
ping flanks told that they had been ridden
hard and fast, and that quite recently.
Their hoofs were muffled in pieces of
woolen blankets, that were wrapped around
and under the hoofs, and confined at the
paetern.

All the Avengers were present except
Ralph St. Leger, and for him they now
waited. He had gone to the village of the
Sioux to make a reconnoissance, and learn,
if possible, whether Vida and Sylveen were
held captives there.

The night was far advauCed when he re-
turned. His face, as he appeared before his
companions, wore an expression of sadness
and disappointment which Fred Travis
readily interpreted to himself.

 

“ You are back safe, young friend,” said
Amos Meredith, as Ralph made his appear-
ance under the oak.

“ I believe so,” replied St. Leger, with a
smile. ,

“ Did you succeed in getting into the In-
dian'village ?” asked another.

“.Yes; I spent all of half an hour wan-
dering about in‘ the place without detec-
tion.”

“ Doggoned wonder ye didn’t git yerself
set up, with a dig in the ribs,” remarked
Old Shadow.

“ I Would not have stood much chance
had the Indians not been so busy watching
the phantom horsemen.”

“ Phantom ' horsemen ? What do' you
mean?”

“ The horsemen that galloped with muf-
fled hoofs along the ridge.”

“ You allude to us?”

“Yes. The savages saw you riding
along the rocky hights and became terror-
stricken. I saw you myself, and I must ad-
mit you presented a wonderful appearance.
Outlined against the sky, you seemed mag-
nified into beings ten-fold your size, and
as the muflled hoofs of your horses produc-
ed no sound, you appeared like giant phan‘
toms in the air ; and it was a fortunate oc-
currence for me, for I was getting into
pretty close quarters about that time.”

A low, silent laugh followed Ralph’s
story. The Avengers had ridden along the
ridge in order to reach the point where they
now were. They had mufiied their animals’
feet that the sounds of their hoofs would
not be heard, never once dreaming of being
brought out so prominent against the sky to
the savages’ eyes.

“ W'ell,” said Fred Travis, burning with
impatience to hear from his darling Vida,
“ what discovery did you make? Are they
—the girls—there ?”

Ralph hit his lips, as if to keep back
some inward emotion. For a moment he
was silent, then he replied :

“ No, they are not there.”

The features of young Travis became
clouded with disappointment, and for a
moment a deathlike silence pervaded the
place.

Death-Notch was the first to speak.

“ No; V‘da and Sylveen are not there.
But there are other white female captives
there, and among them is a young woman
whom I have Seen at Stony Cliff, and whom
Sylveen called Martha Gregory. The others
are no doubt captives taken at the Spirit
Lake Massacre, and of whom you and your
friends are in search.” '

“No doubt of it! no doubt of it!” ex-
claimed several of the Avengers, and the
muttered words of sister, mother, or friend,
might have been heard spoken in whispered
accents. ‘

The youths were free in expressing hopes
of the speedy release of their friends. But
how were they to do it? This was the
question that passed from lip to lip without
an answer. -

There was not a doubt in the minds of

DeatlnNotch and Fred but that Vida and
Sylveen had been slain. If not, where were
they ? There was nothing that admitted of
a hope of their having escaped from their
captors, and a new spirit of vengeance
seemed to have fired the hearts of both the
youths. Still they did not give way to
despair entirely. They thought the maidens
might possibly have been hidden away
somewhere, or that Ralph'had missed them
in the village; and, after some deliberation
as to their future course, they came to a
conclusion that was likely, if successful, to
give them some information. It was to re-
lease Martha Gregory and learn from her
whether Sylveen and Vida had been taken
captives by Inkpaducah’s warriors; if so,
she could give some clew to their absence.
' But the great difficulty would be in effect-
ing Miss Gregory's release. It would be
impossible for them to gain admission to
the valley; hOWever, they resolved to wait
and watch their chances.

They spent the remainder of that night
under that great, green pavilion of nature,
and the following morning, at an early
hOur, they Were in the saddle, and moving
further aviray from the Indian village, for
daylight. would undoubtedly reveal their
present location to the enemy.

A few miles north of the Indian town,
the forest ended in a long expanse of prai-
rie. The Avengers had just reached this
plain, and Were about debouching from the
forest into it, when they made a discovery
that caused them to draw rein instantly.
Over two hundred Indian warriors were
encamped on the edge of the prairie, not
over thirty rods from them.

A single glance told our friends it was a
war—party. Their horses were picketed
near by, and their spears were aligned in a
circle about their camp.

The hour was still that of early morn,
and it was evident from their movements
that the savages were preparing to move.
They were dressed and painted in all the
paraphernalia of the war-path, and were all
young and athletic looking warriors. But
they were not Sioux. There were those
among our friends that could distinguish
the warriors of three distinct tribes, the
Omaha, the Sac and Fox tribes.

For fear of discovery, Fred Travis, enjoin--

ed extreme silence upon his friends, but
Omaha, seeing who the strangers Were,
heeded not this caution. Giving his animal
the reins, he galloped from the woods and
rode directly toward the enemy’s camp,
manifesting signs of friendship as he did so.

“ By thunder, that red younker ’ll git the
hull caboodlc into trubble !” exclaimed Old
Shadow. '

“ Let us see what he means,” added Travis.

The Avengers remained under cover of'
the woods, watching in breathless anxiety
the result of Omaha’s conference.

The Friendly rode into their camp, and
was soon surrounded by the warriors. A
short consultation ensued, when a shout
from the lips of the savages pealed out on
the air. It was a welcome shout, and our
friends knew Omaha had been received as a
friend.

A moment later Omaha wheeled his
horse, and riding back to where his com-
panions awaited him, said:

“Let my white friends have no fear of
the warriors yonder. They are our friends,
and the enemies of the Sioux, and are
marching upon their village. . They w1ll
help the Avengers to rescue their friends.”

The whites would have doubted the mo-
tive of the warriors had it been reported to

. them by any other than Omaha. But the

friendly was a tried friend, and they knew
that no subtle cunning or treachery of the
red-skins could circumvent him, and, with a
shout of joy and thankfulness for such
timely friendship, the little band rode from
the woods and approached the red—skins’
camp with open hands, significant of peace.

 

 

 

 

 

They were received in camp with no lit-
tlc ceremony of honor, taking it in an In-
dian view, and were welcomed with pro-
longed shouts. ‘

The Avengers dismounted. Then the
pipe of peace was brought out and smoked,
and peace and friendship between the two
parties were established.

A conference was now held, Omaha re-
presenting our friends and the leader of the
savages the three tribes under his com-
mand. The rescue of their friends by the
one party, and vengeance by the other,
were the motives that had brought them
there, yet they pledged themselves to work
together.

When the conference broke up it was
with the understanding that they were to
attack the Sioux village the coming night ;
and that the position of the enemy‘s camp,
and the passage leading into the valley,
might be thoroughly understood, a scout
from each party was sent out to make a re-
connoissance of the topography of the valley.

(To be contmired—commenced in No. 136.)

A Mad Adventure. ‘

BY MARK IVILTON.

 

 

 

THIRTY years ago, where now stands the
bustling city of C , there was only a fee-
ble settlement, with barely a hundred in.
habitants; and around the cluster of log
cabins the forest stretched far away in
every direction. And in the forest was
every kind of wild animals—panthcrs,
wolves, bears and deer, and others too nu-
merous to mention.

This being the case, there were, of course,
many hunters; but the most famous of
these were the “ Five N imrods,” as they
were called. And I was one of the five.
We were young, daring, reckless fellows,
who lived from hand to mouth, not caring
to lay by any thing ‘for a rainy day. We
lived for the present, and not for the future.

We were the most renowned of the
hunters of C————-; many a beast had fallen
before our rifles; and of the fierce, gaunt
wolves especially we had slain a great num-
ber.

These creatures were the scourges of the
region, and it was a brave man who would
traverse the forest after dark.

One night, when a score of us were in the
bar-room of Sweetscr‘s tavern, the conversa-
tion turned upon the tragic fate of a man
who had endeavored to ride by night from
C——— to Elmtown, where his wife was
sick; but the poor fellow had lost his life
in the undertaking, only a few bones re-
maining to tell the fearful tale. '

“Why,” exclaimed Mr. Cavendish, the
rich man of the place, “ I’ll bet a hundred
and twenty-five dollars the “ Five N imrods ”
would not dare to undertake the ride by
night!”

“Done, by St. Peter !” exclaimed Dick
Halton, who was our acknowledged leader ;
“ we will ride the course, though it be to
death.”

And we all echoed his words, for the
twenty-five dollars each man would have,
if we lived to claim the stake, was considered
a large sum in those days. And, besides,
there was the excitement of the thing; quite
as great an inducement as the former one.

This being the case, the reader will not
be surprised to learn that we were ready
for the mad ride on the night of the fol-
lowing day. Ned Thorne furnished the
team—a stout, swift pair of bays—and a
sled, known as a. “ pung,” and onto this we
piled a large stock of arms, and were off on
our fifteen—mile ride for Elmtown.

We rode away just at dark, followed by F
the good wishes of the villagers, and were
soon speeding through the forest.

Thorne drove; Halton and Noll Trafl‘ord
had the left—hand side of the sled, and Will
Godfrey and I the right.

We could not have started under more
auspicious circumstances. There was about
three inches of snow, and the “slipping”
was excellent, while the bays had never felt
better. Ned set them into a steady trot,
and for three miles our ride was quiet and
delightful. Then from behind us rose a
prolonged howl.

“There goes the rally-cry,”
grimly.

And so it was, for when twice repeated, an-
swering cries were heard all around, and we
knewithe wolves were on our track.

A mile further, and they began to collect
in our rear, in twos, fours, and even in
dozens, until a long, black line, clearlyscen
in the moonlight, sWept swiftly after us.

W'c had no intention of wasting bullets
until they came nearer, so we watched them
in silencc, Ned Thorne standing like a.
statue behind his horses, with a hand of
iron on the lines. '

But the wolves are constantly receiving
fresh additions to their numbers, and now
they press toward the sled till scarce a rod
stretches between them and us. And so
Dick gives the order to fire, and four brutes
fall dead, to be instantly torn to pieces.

But the noble bays—not yet doing their
best—show no alarm, and we speed swiftly
along, guided among the trees by the strong
hand of our brave driver.

But the time soon came when our horses
were obliged to do their best; for the
wolves, now numbering scores, pressed us
sharply, and our rifles made one continuous
roar. Though our bullets plowed a bloody
trail through them, our pursuers falter-ed
not. On the contrary, they spread out like
the letter V and endeavored to surround
the team. In this they were foiled by the
swiftness of our horses; but the gaunt lead-
ers galloped constantly along by the side of
the sled. 1

One bounded partly in, but Noll blew his ‘
head to pieces; while at the same moment
I placed my rifle against the head of an-
other and sent a bullet through his brain.
Still another sped by us and was about to
spring on the off horse, when Ned, taking
both lines in his left hand, drew a pistol
and shot him.

Three miles to Elmtown. And now we
left the forest behind us and sped out onto
aplain, three miles wide, while at its fur-
ther side lay the village we were _scekmg.
But our situation was now alarming; the
wolves were fast hemming us in, despite
the best efforts of our gallant steeds. They
climbed against the sled; into it, and now
we fought them With clubbed gun. Still
we were all calm and resolute ; determined
to fight to the last.

On, on! Vv'e were nearing the settle-
ment. But how the wolves pressed us!
Godfrey fought one, hand to hand! They
almost stopped the sled by their own
weight! But, hurrah ! the Village lights
gleam before Us; we dash in; we are saved;
the wager won!

 

said Dick,