stopped and held his rifle in a
threatening attitude. The wolves were now within twenty yards of him;
but, instead of moving any longer directly towards him, they broke into
two lines, swept past on opposite sides of him, and then circling round,
met each other in his rear. _His retreat was cut off_!

He now stood upon the ice with the fierce wolves forming a ring around
him, whose diameter was not the six lengths of his gun, and _every_
moment growing shorter and shorter. The prospect was appalling. It
would have caused the stoutest heart to quail, and Lucien's was
terrified. He shouted at the top of his voice. He fired his rifle at
the nearest. The brute fell, but the others showed no symptoms of fear;
they only grew more furious. Lucien clubbed his gun--the last resort in
such cases--and laid around him with all his might; but he was in danger
of slipping upon the ice, and his efforts were feeble. Once down he
never would have risen again, for his fierce assailants would have
sprung upon him like tigers. As it was, he felt but little hope. He
believed himself lost. The teeth of the ferocious monsters gleamed
under his eyes. He was growing weaker and weaker, yet still he battled
on, and swept his gun around him with the energy of despair. Such a
struggle could not have continued much longer. Lucien's fate would have
been sealed in a very few minutes more, had not relief arrived in some
shape or other. But it did come. A loud shout was heard upon the hill;
and Lucien, glancing suddenly towards it, saw several forms rushing
downward to the lake! It was the hunting party returned, and in a
moment more they were crossing the ice to his rescue. Lucien gaining
confidence fought with fresh vigour. The wolves busy in their attack
had either not heard or were regardless of the new-comers; but the
"crack, crack" of the guns--repeated no less than four times--and then
the nearer reports of pistols, made a speedy impression upon the brutes,
and in a short while half their number were seen tumbling and kicking
upon the ice. The rest, uttering their hideous howls, took to flight,
and soon disappeared from the valley; and Lucien, half dead with
fatigue, staggered into the arms of his deliverers.

No less than seven of the wolves were killed in the affray--two of which
Lucien had shot himself. One or two were only wounded, but so badly,
that they could not get away; and these were handed over to the tender
mer