have believed to exist in all
Lithuania.

"Hand me my gun, and take the reins, Metski," cried Father Cassimer.
"Drive for your life!" he added in an under tone; but every one in the
sledge heard him. Heaven knows how many we killed; but it seemed of no
use. Our pork was swallowed, straw and all. The creatures were pressing
upon us on every side, as if trying to surround the sledge; and it was
fearful to see the leaps that some gray old fellows among them would
take at Metski and the horses. Our driver did his part like a man,
making a thousand winds and turns through the woods; but still the
wolves pursued us. Fortunately, the firing kept them off, and, thanks to
our noble horses, they were never able to get ahead of us; but as far as
we could see behind us in the moonlight, came the howling packs, as if
rising from the ground of the forest. We had seen nothing like it, and
all did their best in firing, especially Count Theodore; but his shots
had little effect, for his hand shook, and I know not if any but myself
saw the looks of terrified intelligence which he exchanged with his
sister. Still, she and the Lady Constanza kept up their courage, though
the young cousins were as white as snow, and our ammunition was fast
decreasing.

"Yonder is a light," said Constanza at last, as the poor horses became
unmanageable, from fright and weariness. "It is from the cottage of old
Wenzel, the woodman."

"If we could reach that," said Father Cassimer, "and leave the horses to
their fate: it is our only chance."

No one contradicted the priest's arrangement, for his last words were
felt to be true--though a pang passed over Constanza's face at the
thought of leaving our brave and faithful horses to the wolves; but
louder rose the howls behind us, as Metski urged on with all his might,
and far above all went the shout of Father Cassimer (he had the best
lungs in that province): "Ho Wenzel! open the door to us for God's
sake!"

We heard the old man reply, sent one well-aimed volley among the wolves,
and as they recoiled, man and woman leaped from the sledge--for our
Polish girls are active--and rushed into the cottage, when old Wenzel
instantly double-barred the door. It was woful to hear the cry of pain
and terror from our poor horses as we deserted them; the next instant
the wolves were upon them. We saw them from the window, as thick as ever
flies stuck on sugar. How we fired upon them, and with what good-will
old Wenzel h