if to deliberate. Our horses were going at their
utmost speed, the driver standing up and using
lash and voice with all his might, to urge them
on to the station, then only about a mile and a
half ahead. Luckily, the road or track, as far
as we could see, was free from drift, and our
hope was that we could gain the station before
the wolves, should they pursue us. Looking
back just as we turned a bend in the track, I
saw the whole pack in swift pursuit.

I had often been told that wolves will not
attack a party unless in a large pack. Six was
no large pack, yet here they were, coming up to
attack us; there was now no doubt about that.
Hunger through a long and severe winter must
have made them daring. With the consciousness
of an impending death-struggle, I prepared
for the result. My thoughts went for one
moment to my wife and children; for another, to
the Great Disposer of events. Then, throwing
off my sheepskin coat, so as not to impede the
free action of my arms and legs, I sprang on the
front seat beside the driver, but with my back
to the horses, and my face to the enemy. I said
to the driver, " They are coming, brother; drive
fast, but steadily. I have six bullets in this
pistol. Don't move from your seat, but drive right
in the centre of the track." My fat companion
sat still in his corner, and neither moved nor
spoke; but I saw the blade of my bear-knife
gleaming in his hand.

The track had become worse, so that the
horses could not maintain their pace. In a
short time, the wolves ran beside the sledge, the
horses strained and shot on, keeping their
distance, but in forcing our way through a drift, we
came to a walking pace, and the first wolf on my
side made a dash at the horse next him. The
pistol was within a foot and a half of his head
when I fired, and the ball went through his
brain. I shouted my triumph in English;
my companion echoed it with a "Bravo!"
The second wolf received my second fire
in the leg, which must have shattered the
bone, for he dropped behind instantly. " Bravo!"
was again cried from the corner. But the same
moment was the moment of our greatest peril.
My pistol fell into the sledge, as, with a sudden
jolt, our horses floundered up to their bellies in
a deep drift; then they came to a dead stop,
and there was a wolf at each side of the sledge,
attempting to get in.

My bludgeon still remained. With both
hands I raised it high and brought it down
with the desperate force of a man in mortal
extremity, upon the head of the wolf on my
side. He tumbled over on his back, and the skull
was afterwards found to have been completely
smashed. As I stooped to regain my pistol, I
was astonished to see my companion coolly
thrust one of his arms into the wolf's mouth,
and as coolly, with the disengaged hand, drawing
the knife, with a deep and sharp cut, across
his throat. A peculiar cry among the horses
arrested my attention. Looking round, I saw
another wolf actually fastened on the off-horse
by the neck. The driver was between me and
the wolf. He cried, " Give me the pistol! "  I
did so, and the poor horse was free.  So, also,
were we; for the other wolf ran off, followed by
the one with the broken leg. The wolf last
shot, was tumbling among the snow. The driver
handed me the pistol to put right, and begged
another shot at the brute. This finished the
engagement.

I cannot tell how I felt. I could scarcely
realise our great deliverance. The driver secured
the carcases to the sledge, and when we reached
the station I was completely exhausted from the
reaction of the strong excitement. My friend
of the twenty stone chuckled much at his own
trick upon the wolf he had killed. Instead of
putting his arm into the animal's open mouth,
as I supposed, he had stuffed into it the loose
sleeves of his great sheepskin coat, thereby
getting plenty of time to cut the monster's
throat. His own arm was untouched. But the
poor horse's neck and shoulder were much torn.
After consuming an enormous quantity of tea,
and part of our provisions, we left the station,
and, without meeting more adventures, except
several diggings-out, arrived at Jaroslav at eight
o'clock: having accomplished about thirty miles
in thirteen hours. Next morning we found
ourselves popular characters in the town. The
driver's tongue had not been idle. My revolver
underwent many an examination. The government
or local reward for a dead wolf is three
roubles, which we claimed and received for three.
So the wolves, instead of killing us, paid our
travelling expenses. The fourth animal I caused
to be skinned, for preservation as a
remembrance of the greatest peril I was ever in.

IN A RUSSIAN POLICE-OFFICE.

Jaroslav is the name of a large goobernie, or
government. Russia is divided into such
districts, the principal town of each being generally
named after the district, and containing the whole
machinery of local government—a governor-
general, with soldiers, police, barracks, government
offices, and officials of all sorts, who obtain
their rank from, and obey the orders of, the
supreme imperial power in St. Petersburg. I
am not writing the history or geography of
Russia, but am only recalling personal experiences
and adventures, and therefore, having said
so much, I go on with my story.

As this trip was made before the new law
regarding foreigners' passports, which now enables
them to travel for an entire year with one passport
all over the empire, I was obliged to go
before the governor-general for permission in
continuing my journey to leave the government
of Jaroslav. What is gained by the new passport
system one may judge from what had to be
endured before its time. I call at the offices
entitled ''Gubernator's Kansileery." The door-
keeper tells me I must wait till to-morrow.
Twenty kopecks, however, induce him to
conduct me to the right clerk. This clerk looks over
my old passport, and, for " a consideration,"
makes out a petition, praying the governor to
give me a new one to go to St. Petersburg, by