My wild hurrah rang through the silent woods, and I stood
listening to the echoes until all was hushed. Suddenly a sound
arose,--it seemed to come from beneath the ice. It was low and
tremulous at first, but it ended in one long wild howl.
I was appalled. Never before had such a sound met my ears.
Presently I heard the brushwood on shore crash as though from the
tread of some animal. The blood rushed to my forehead; my
energies returned, and I looked around me for some means of
escape.
The moon shone through the opening at the mouth of the creek by
which I had entered the forest; and, considering this the best
way of escape, I darted toward it like an arrow. It was hardly a
hundred yards distant, and the swallow could scarcely have
excelled me in flight; yet, as I turned my eyes to the shore, I
could see several dark objects dashing through the brushwood at a
pace nearly double in speed to my own. By their great speed, and
the short yells which they occasionally gave, I knew at once that
these were the much-dreaded gray wolves.
The bushes that skirted the shore now seemed to rush past with
the velocity of lightning, as I dashed on in my flight to pass
the narrow opening.
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