Bulka And The Wolf

: STORIES FOR CHILDREN
: Fables For Children, Stories For Children, Natural Science Stori

When I left the Caucasus, they were still fighting there, and in the

night it was dangerous to travel without a guard.



I wanted to leave as early as possible, and so did not lie down to

sleep.



My friend came to see me off, and we sat the whole evening and night in

the village street, in front of my cabin.



It was a moonlit night with a mist, and so bright that one could read,
/>
though the moon was not to be seen.



In the middle of the night we suddenly heard a pig squealing in the yard

across the street. One of us cried: "A wolf is choking the pig!"



I ran into the house, grasped a loaded gun, and ran into the street.

They were all standing at the gate of the yard where the pig was

squealing, and cried to me: "Here!" Milton rushed after me,--no doubt he

thought that I was going out to hunt with the gun; but Bulka pricked his

short ears, and tossed from side to side, as though to ask me whom he

was to clutch. When I ran up to the wicker fence, I saw a beast running

straight toward me from the other side of the yard. That was the wolf.

He ran up to the fence and jumped on it. I stepped aside and fixed my

gun. The moment the wolf jumped down from the fence to my side, I aimed,

almost touching him with the gun, and pulled the trigger; but my gun

made "Click" and did not go off. The Wolf did not stop, but ran across

the street.



Milton and Bulka made for him. Milton was near to the wolf, but was

afraid to take hold of him; and no matter how fast Bulka ran on his

short legs, he could not keep up with him. We ran as fast as we could

after the wolf, but both the wolf and the dogs disappeared from sight.

Only at the ditch, at the end of the village, did we hear a low barking

and whimpering, and saw the dust rise in the mist of the moon and the

dogs busy with the wolf. When we ran up to the ditch, the wolf was no

longer there, and both dogs returned to us with raised tails and angry

faces. Bulka snarled and pushed me with his head: evidently he wanted to

tell me something, but did not know how.



We examined the dogs, and found a small wound on Bulka's head. He had

evidently caught up with the wolf before he got to the ditch, but had

not had a chance to get hold of him, while the wolf snapped at him and

ran away. It was a small wound, so there was no danger.



We returned to the cabin, and sat down and talked about what had

happened. I was angry because the gun had missed fire, and thought of

how the wolf would have remained on the spot, if the gun had shot. My

friend wondered how the wolf could have crept into the yard. An old

Cossack said that there was nothing remarkable about it, because that

was not a wolf, but a witch who had charmed my gun. Thus we sat and kept

talking. Suddenly the dogs darted off, and we saw the same wolf in the

middle of the street; but this time he ran so fast when he heard our

shout that the dogs could not catch up with him.



After that the old Cossack was fully convinced that it was not a wolf,

but a witch; but I thought that it was a mad wolf, because I had never

seen or heard of such a thing as a wolf's coming back toward the people,

after it had been driven away.



In any case I poured some powder on Bulka's wound, and set it on fire.

The powder flashed up and burned out the sore spot.



I burned out the sore with powder, in order to burn away the poisonous

saliva, if it had not yet entered the blood. But if the saliva had

already entered the blood, I knew that the blood would carry it through

the whole body, and then it would not be possible to cure him.



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