faces waiting my return--of their tears, if they should never see
me again, and then every energy of body and mind was exerted for escape.
I was perfectly at home on the ice. Many were the days that I had spent
on my good skates, never thinking that at one time they would be my only
means of safety. Every half minute, an alternate yelp from my ferocious
followers, told me too certain that they were in close pursuit. Nearer
and nearer they came; I heard their feet pattering on the ice nearer
still, until I could feel their breath, and hear their sniffling scent.

"Every nerve and muscle in my frame was stretched to the utmost tension.
The trees along the shore seemed to dance in the uncertain light, and my
brain turned with my own breathless speed, yet still they seemed to hiss
forth their breath with a sound truly horrible, when an involuntary
motion on my part, turned me out of my course. The wolves, close behind,
unable to stop, and as unable to turn on the smooth ice, slipped and
fell, still going on far ahead; their tongues were lolling out, their
white tusks glaring from their bloody mouths, their dark, shaggy breasts
were fleeced with foam, and, as they passed me, their eyes glared, and
they howled with fury.

"The thought flashed on my mind, that, by these means, I could avoid
them, viz: by turning aside whenever they came too near; for they, by
the formation of their feet, are unable to run on the ice, except in a
straight line.

"At one time, by delaying my turning too long, my sanguinary antagonists
came so near, that they threw the white foam over my dress, as they
sprang to seize me, and their teeth clashed together like the spring of
a fox-trap!

"Had my skates failed for one instant, had I tripped on a stick, or
caught my foot in a fissure in the ice, the story I am now telling would
never have been told.

"I thought over all the chances; I knew where they would take hold of
me, if I fell; I thought how long it would be before I died; and then
there would be a search for the body that would already have its tomb!
for, oh! how fast man's mind traces out all the dread colors of death's
picture, only those who have been so near the grim original can tell.

"But I soon came opposite the house, and, my hounds,--I knew their deep
voices,--roused by the noise, bayed furiously from the kennels. I heard
their chains rattle; how I wished they would break them! and then I
would have protectors that would be pe