with their
guns ready, on each side of the hut, and wait with beating hearts the
arrival of the expected four-footed visitors. Nine o'clock passes--ten,
half-past--not a sound is heard in the forest; the sportsmen who look
out on the snowy scene around them observe nothing; all without is
dreary silence, broken at intervals by the poor ruminating creatures in
front, the cry of a solitary owl, the fall of some dead branch which age
and the tempest has separated from the giant oak, the sudden spring of
the squirrel awakened by the noise, and, in the interior of the cabin,
by the soft gurgling of the ruby wine escaping joyfully from its glass
prison-house, to cheer the heart of the impatient _chasseur_--and who
knows better than he how to empty a flask of genuine Burgundy?
We will, therefore, imagine some of the party enjoying themselves after
this fashion; when suddenly the calves are heard to rise, to bellow and
groan, strain at the ropes with which they are fastened, and endeavour
to escape; every cigar is at once extinguished, the comic changes to the
serious--the wolves are on the scent. A few minutes more, and black
spots are seen dotted about here and there on the snow; these increase
in number and approach,--they are the wolves that observe and listen;
the frantic terror of the calves is redoubled; the black spots become
larger, they advance still nearer, and at length the animals may clearly
be distinguished. The wolves imagine the calves have come astray. What a
charming thing if they could carry them off to the dark ravines they
inhabit! The great square hut, silent as Harpocrates, and the smell of
man, make them hesitate; but a hunger of many days (and we know that
man, the image of his Maker, will eat man, his fellow, in his
extremity) and the smell of blood prevail and overcome their fears. Four
or five wolves rush forward, and endeavour to remove the calves; the
attempt is vain, the ropes are strong, and so are the posts to which the
animals are fastened: unable, therefore, to succeed, and stretched
across their dying victims, they plunge their ravenous jaws into the
palpitating flesh, forget their alarm in so delicious a supper, and eat
and drink to their heart's content. The rest of the pack thus
encouraged, and afraid of being too late, now advance at a gallop to
share in the repast.
It is then, and amid the yells, the disputes, and the bloody encounters
occasioned by a division of the spoil, that the
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