nd him,
in the hopes of keeping off the infuriated animals, which now came
thronging up on either side. As yet they had not dared to seize the
horses; should they do so, all, he knew, would be lost. His wife, pale
as death, sat by his side. She could do nothing but cry for mercy. She
dared not look round, lest altogether she should lose her senses at the
sight she dreaded to see. She longs to draw her elder children to the
front of the sledge, but there is no room for them there; so, as before,
she sits still, clasping her infant to her bosom. On fly the horses.
The wolves pursue, growing bolder and bolder. There is a fearful
shriek.

"`Oh, mother! Mother! Save--'

"The cry is drowned by the sharp yelping of the wolves. On a sudden the
pack give up the chase. The miller looks round to learn the cause. His
eldest child--his favourite, Titiana, is no longer in her place. The
other children point with fearful gaze to the spot where the wolves are
circling round, snorting, and gnashing, and tearing, and leaping over
each other's shoulders. To rescue her is hopeless; to attempt it would
be the certain destruction of the rest. Flight, rapid and continuous,
offers the only prospect of safety. Faint, alas! Is that. On--on he
drives; but, oh horror!--once more the wolves are in hot pursuit. The
sledge is again soon overtaken. Fiercely the miller defends his
remaining children with loud shouts and lashings of his whip; but what
can a weapon such as that effect against a whole host of wild beasts?
Some of the fiercest leapt on the sledge.

"`Oh, mercy, mercy!'--Another child--their darling boy, poor little
Peoter, is torn away. Can they rescue him? No, no; it is impossible.
They must drive on--on--on--for their own lives. Even if they drive
fast as the wind, will they preserve the rest? For a few short moments
the wolves stop to revel in their dreadful banquet. The miller lashes
on his steeds furiously as before. He is maddened with horror. On, on
he drives. The poor mother sits like a statue. All faculties are
benumbed. She has no power to shriek. Scarcely does she know what has
occurred. Again the wolves are in full chase. Two children remain
alive, but they are exposed to the cold; their sheepskin mantle has been
torn away. They are weeping piteously. With a frantic grasp the miller
drags one up between him and his wife; but, alas! The other he cannot
save. He tries, but ere he can grasp