The Tale Of The Wolf In Harness





The horse carried me well. Advancing into the interior parts of Russia, I

found traveling on horseback rather unfashionable in winter; therefore I

submitted, as I always do, to the custom of the country, took a

single-horse sledge, and drove briskly towards St. Petersburg. I do not

exactly recollect whether it was in Eastland or Jugemanland, but I remember

that in the midst of a dreary forest, I spied a terrible wolf making after

me, with all the speed of ravenous winter hunger. He soon overtook me.

There was no possibility of escape. Mechanically I laid myself down flat in

the sledge, and let my horse run for our safety. What I wished, but hardly

hoped or expected, happened immediately after. The wolf did not mind me in

the least, but took a leap over me, and falling furiously on the horse,

began instantly to tear and devour the hind part of the poor animal,

which ran the faster for his pain and terror. Thus unnoticed and safe

myself, I lifted my head slyly up, and with horror I beheld that the wolf

had ate his way into the horse's body; it was not long before he had fairly

forced himself into it, when I took my advantage, and fell upon him with

the butt-end of my whip. This unexpected attack in his rear frightened him

so much, that he leaped forward with all his might; the horse's carcass

dropped on the ground; but in his place the wolf was in harness, and I on

my part whipping him continually, we both arrived in full career safe at

St. Petersburg, contrary to our respective expectations, and very much to

the astonishment of the spectators.





The Tale Of The Snow And The Steeple The Talking Fish facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestlinkedinmail

Feedback