Â
How John Gunn Escaped From a Pack of Wolves.
Ottawa [Can.] Free Press.
    Being a culler in the employ of Mc Laren and Co., on the Gatineau River, I set out on the morning of the 29th of February, in company with the Indians, to ascertain if any trespasses had been committed on a limit owned by that firm. The district is remarkable only for its mountainous charactor, the range being called Mont Diablo, or Devil’s Mountain. I took my horse with me as long as possible, tied him up and contiued the journey on snowshoes. We had gone only about 4 miles when one of the Indins, a very cunning and experienced hunter solemnly warned me to turn back, as there were unmistakable indications of wolves being in close proximity, but I made up my mind to keep on my way, and my contempt for the prophetic words of the Indian came near costing me dearly.
    Approaching the foot of the mountain, I beheld in full view, and only a short distance away on a small eminence, a pack of wolves, twenty-seven in number, devouring the remains of a deer. The only resourse for safety was retreat or to climb a tree, but on turning about I found the two Indians gone. I saw to my revolver immediately, and determined to live as long as I could, and sell my life as dearly as possible.
    I began the retreat, however, with all the haste that my physical powers were capable of, but was soon alarmed by hearing the howling of the wolves in pursuit. I have always prided myself on my fleetness of foot, as I have seldom met my equal, but in this race with the wolves I lost groud very fast. I quickly realized that the attempt to escape was vain, for at the rate of going I could not hold out long, and, and concluded to climb a tree, and though it took me but a very few moments to reach a convenient branch, I was none too quick for the pack was nigh on hand. The drew up a line about 10 yards from the tree, and considering the opportunity a good one, I commenced to blaze away at them with deadly effect, no less than four falling in answer to seven shots. This destructive fire did not abate their fury in the least, and I proceeded to draw my second revolver, when, unfortunatly, it caught in a twig and was jerked out of my hand to the ground.
    My buffalo coat I had left in the cutter, and, being very thinly clad, I began very soon to experience the effects of the cold. The wolves, I believe, realized my helplessness, and became bold accordingly. They walked up to the foot of the tree, which was a very small one, and as they could not reach me by leaping, they began to gnaw it down. Taking out my knife I cut the longest limb I could reach, and leaving a hook on the end of it I caught hold of a large cedar tree about 10 foot off, and as the wolves continued gnawing and my perch got more and more unsteady, I pulled in the pole and drew this tree over to the cedar. With a desperate exortion, and after several minutes of deep anxiety, I succeeded in gaining the cedar, and took up a safe position among the branches.
    The wolves uttered a fierce howl and took their departure, but I did not venture to descend from my perch until the last sound from them was faintly heard from the distant hills. On reaching the place where I left my horse I found that he had got frightened and had gone. I was about striking out in pursuit when I spied the two Indians, who were endeavoring to secure two young moose, which they had got into a kind of crevice at the base of a high rock. I turned in with them, and we succeeded in taking them alive and unhurt. We carried them to Mt. Valont’s shanty, where they will remain until we can get them down to Ottawa. The Indians had the courge enough to go back and skin the wolves.
Post a Comment