death-dealing barrel toward the foe, and sought to bring the sight of his rifle in a line with the animal's dark form, but all in vain. In the faint uncertain light objects became so mingled that he could not for his life feel certain where the bullet would go home, and he dared not miss his mark. He cautiously raised the barrel towards the brighter sky, where he brought the sight in a line with one of the glittering stars, then stooped down, and as soon as he had the form of the still motionless animal in a line, his finger touched the trigger. The shot thundered through the forest, and Ben sprang up with the speed of lightning.

"There, you villain!" he said, as he saw the dark body lying motionless in the leaves which were brightly illumined by the moon. "See there I prophesied it. That is at least some consolation that I have stopped the handiwork of such a sneaking vagabond. Panthers and bears! I wish God's lightning would strike all the scoundrels that, like you, wander about in the dark, shunning the light of day, in order to do mischief whenever they can. Ben, while uttering these words through his clenched teeth, had remained quietly in his old position, and had before all reloaded his rifle; he now raised it with a curse, not loud, but deep, to his shoulder, and walked slowly toward the spot where his conquered enemy lay extended in the leaves. He was a large, powerful wolf, jet black, and with only the little heart-shaped white spot on his chest, which, in the moonlight, seemed really on fire. bullet must have passed right through his head-he did not stir in the slightest.

The

"I didn't even see him shudder," said the hunter gently, and stooped down in order to feel for the bullet-hole. He passed his hand back and forwards over the whole body; but there was nothing-not even blood; and his hand, when he held it up in the light, was white and clean. "An extraordinary shot," growled the hunter; "but, hang it, it's all one where the bullet is, as long as it has gone home, and as I shot the villain. Halloh!" he suddenly interrupted himself, "is the brute alive still?" He raised his rifle to his cheek, and watched every movement of the animal, which certainly displayed signs of being alive, for it threw its head up, and then tried to rise on its fore-paws. Ben, however, had killed too many a head of game for this movement to leave him any doubt as to the actual condition of the wolf. In the first surprise he certainly started back, and almost involuntarily raised his rifle, but it was only for a moment; at the next he hurled it away, and boldly threw himself upon the animal, which had regained its whole strength and struggled furiously.

"Ho ho! my fine fellow," cried the young hunter at the same time, and laughed with wild delight, as he slung his arm with gigantic strength round the struggling body of the wolf. "Io ho only creased-ha

*By "creasing," the American hunter signifies a shot passing along the spine, or more frequently the neck of the game, when the bullet flattens the upper vertebræ or muscles of the neck, without, however, cutting them through. This hurls the animal to the ground, stunned for the moment, but not in any way injured. After a very short time it generally recovers again, and if the hunter is not close by with rifle or knife, it bolts off again, and is frequently out of shot before the astonished hunter has recovered his senses on seeing his fancied prey escape him. The Indians of the West capture wild horses by a shot of this description, in which more are naturally killed than are captured.

ha ha!-struggle away, struggle away, my fine fellow, you can't escape from this trap unless you can get out of your skin.'

The animal, which had now regained its entire consciousness, seemed to understand in what a highly unpleasant position it was, and tried to make its escape by snapping and kicking; but in vain. Ben held it as if in a vice, and pressed the whole weight of his heavy body upon it to such a degree, that the poor wolf was at last obliged to lie quite quiet, for all its strength was exhausted. But what to do now ?-should he kill the wolf? That would certainly be an easy task, for Ben had his bowie knife in his belt but was not his object now gained? He wanted a living, sound, uninjured wolf; and he held one now beneath him as firmly as if he were never going to loose his hold. But how should he bind him? he had not a single strap about him-nothing but his belt; and then again, how could he venture to make the attempt? If he let the wolf draw breath, there would be another fight, in which he would be forced either to seriously injure the animal or let it go; the one alternative almost as bad as the other. And yet how carry the heavy beast to the settlement? He would require half-an-hour to reach it without the wolf, how much longer with him? but he had no choice. "You or I, my fellow," he muttered; "and so let this evening decide my happiness or misery. Devil take it! I've often carried a deer twice as heavy as this, only for the sake of the miserable meat; my strength will not fail me to-day, when I hope to attain the dearest object of my wishes. And with this hurriedly-formed determination he took a firm hold round the now madly struggling wolf, and raised himself slowly, with his shoulder resting against a neighbouring pine-tree. He held the wolf with its back towards him, with the left hand passing between his two front paws, and the right pressed firmly against the temples, and held it in such a close embrace that the animal could not possibly bite him. His rifle he naturally was obliged to leave behind him, as well as his cap, which had fallen off in the struggle; still that did not baulk him: with firmly clenched teeth and the utmost determination, he walked on with his extraordinary burden struggling in his arms, step by step, toward the distant settlement.

CHAPTER V.

In the meanwhile noisy merriment still prevailed in the old courthouse; bowl after bowl of sweet "stew" was brewed; and the room had eventually become so hot through candles, drinking, and dancing, that the little window looking out on the forest had been thrown open to let in some fresh air. The sound of the fiddle grew shriller than ever in the performance of jigs and hornpipes, and the feet of the dancers came down more noisily on the floor. Metcalf, especially, was excessively jolly; he called poor Bessie, who still obstinately refused to dance with him or any other of the guests, his dear little wifey; embraced old Sutton repeatedly as his father-in-law, and could not set any bounds to his delight. A slight interruption, however, suddenly took place: "Lord Howe's hornpipe" was just concluded, and some refreshments were being handed round. Bessie, who by her father's orders, was obliged to attend to these duties, was sitting near the door,

and Metcalf, who had stationed himself close to her, was whispering some of his insipid compliments in her ear, which drove the bright carnation into her cheeks, when something suddenly struck the door without with a violent blow.

"Halloh!" shouted the bridegroom, as he started, "that's not very polite knocking. Who's there?"

The other guests all turned hurriedly and in surprise toward the sound; but the sole answer was a renewed, and still more violent, knocking. "Deuce take his impudence," Metcalf cried; "I'll go and see. He suddenly seized the leathern thong which hung to the latch, pulled it up, and tore the door open.

"Ha!" before him he saw a pair of fixed sparkling eyes, almost starting from their sockets, a widely yawning mouth, with a blooddripping tongue hanging out, and a tremendous row of white grindersa wolf's head as terrible and dreadful as only imagination could depict it-and behind it, close to the fearful mouth, the death-pale fiercelystaring countenance of Ben Hope, spectrally illumined by the reflection of the torches.

"The wolf, the wolf!" Metcalf yelled, after one almost flying glance at the fearful group. "The wolf!" and he made his way in wild haste through the guests who were thronging up, sprang to the window, and before any one could conjecture his object or prevent him, he leaped with one bound into the open air. Those standing behind, who could not yet see what had been the real cause of such extraordinary activity, laughed; but those nearest the door also started back in terror, like Metcalf had done, and gazed in amazement at the strange object, in which they were at last enabled to recognize Ben Hope's features.

"The bell, the bell!" was, however, all that the hunter could gasp in a hoarse voice, only distinguishable by those close to him. "The bell, the bell! my strength is failing me."

"Heavens!" Bessie now shrieked, who had sprung up in terror at Metcalf's first cry, and hardly believing her eyes, not capable of uttering a word or moving a limb, had gazed fixedly on her lover's death-pale and fearfully distorted features. Help, help!"

"The bell!" Ben implored. to drop off!"

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"The bell-what bell?" the persons around asked.

"Ha! the wolfs bell," the young girl now exclaimed, understanding in a moment all that had seemed to her so terrible. "The wolf's bell: only wait a moment, Ben; only a few seconds, and I will be back again." And the girl quickly glided through the doorway, close to the gaping throat of the brute, so close that her shoulder came in contact with its blood-dripping tongue; went into her father's house, which was situated close by, and where the bell was still hanging beneath the rifle, as the old man had hung it after his last fruitless expedition; quickly took it down, and returned with it without the loss of a moment.

In this interval the men had recovered from their first surprise; old Sutton had joined them, and, quickly understanding all the circumstances of the case, he tried to help Ben, and even offered to take the wolf from him. This, however, the hunter would not consent to, as he did not dare, for his own safety or that of the bystanders, loose the firm hold he now had of the animal; but Bessie had scarce made her

appearance with the bell, when Sutton snatched it from her hand, fastened the strap round the neck of the wolf, which was struggling furiously again, and buckled it not too tightly, but securely enough that it could not be slipped over the head, and yet at the same time did not throttle the wolf. But what to do now when this was all completed? how get rid of the brute again? for it was very possible that, in its present excited state, it might turn upon its enemies instead of running, and cause some accident, so that they might be eventually compelled to kill it. The tinkling of the bell disturbed the captive more and more; its exertions became more desperate, the more the poor hunter's strength deserted him. It is true that plenty of men came up with ropes, and one even made a running noose in which the wolf's head should be placed, and its throat squeezed till it was stunned, and then it could be carried out into the forest; but these appeared much too dangerous experiments, for if any injury were done the animal in consequence, all his labour would have been in vain. At this moment Bessie, who was half-mad from anxiety, cried out,

"Carry it into the garden, Ben, where the stream makes the bend; the bank has given way; and if you throw the wolf in there, it can swim to the opposite side."

"By Heaven! the girl is right," shouted old Sutton, and Ben immediately walked round the house to the spot indicated. The fence which separated him from the garden was immediately torn down, and a few moments later the wolf-hunter stood on the steep bank. Bessie had seized his arm and led him, for fear he might take a step too far and fall in with his burden.

"Now, Ben," she cried to him, as she suddenly held him back," now let go.

"Thank God!" Ben murmured; and as he opened his arms the dark body glided down the yielding sand, and fell with a loud splash into the current. Several men now came up with candles, and by their pale uncertain light they could perceive the black body of the liberated wolf cutting its way with violent panting through the water; but as it climbed on to the bank the bell tingled loudly and clearly-the beast tried to shake itself, but was so startled by the strange sound that it quickly bounded up the hill, and for a long distance through the forest they heard the regular strokes of the bell, as the wolf, in that gallop peculiar to these animals, sought to escape, not from its recent foes, for it hardly feared them, but from this insupportable sharp noise beneath its throat.

"Ha ha!" Ben at last broke the breathless silence with which the men had listened to the sound of the bell as it grew fainter. "He's got it by Heaven he's got it-let Mr. Metcalf try to do as much now!"

"Metcalf!" But where was Metcalf then, during the whole of this scene? No one knows-no one ever saw him again on the Washita. His leap through the window could not be doubted, for there were witnesses enough of it, and from the window his track could be followed for a long distance in the direction of Arkansas; but he left all his luggage and even his hat behind him in the settlement, and never even wrote for them. Ben was certainly right in saying that his evil conscience had driven him away."

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And what became of Bessie? I will spare the reader any long

details, and merely tell him a few circumstances, from which his power of imagination can easily discover the course of events much more clearly than I can describe them.

Mr. Metcalf had really run away; but the letter which he had received must have been a forgery, for in the selfsame month they heard from a traveller that Metcalf's uncle had been a bankrupt about four weeks before the young gentleman made his appearance on the Washita, and that the pretended heir was even worse than a beggar, for he was up to his ears in debt. He had fancied he could easily win the rich farmer's daughter, and had naturally done all in his power to render it impossible for his dangerous rival to gain the girl's hand. That it had been he who had liberated the captured wolf was almost undoubted; at least shortly after his departure it was openly stated in the settlement; and that old Sutton, after all that had occurred, was ashamed even to mention his proposed son-in-law from town, may be easily imagined.

Since that time ten good years have passed away, and Farmer Sutton sleeps in his own garden gently and calmly beneath the green and flowery sod. Ben Hope has given up his irregular life as a hunter, has become a respectable farmer, and lives with his dear wife-his own Bessie and the three boys and two girls who have been born to them during their nine years of matrimony, so happy and contented as it is possible to do. His herds have also wonderfully increased, for the wolves were utterly driven away by their belled companion, and to his fields he has also added largely; but at the spot where he caught the Iwolf alive he has built himself a small cabin, and calls it, in remembrance of that happy evening, The Wolf's Bell.

SKETCHES OF LIFE AND CHARACTER IN THE WEST INDIES.

COMMUNICATED TO, AND EDITED BY, LORD WILLIAM LENNOX.

CHAPTER XII.

Having said so much of the blacks, it may be as well that I should add a few words respecting the possibility of employing British emigrants in their places. Many are the attempts which have been made to facilitate the introduction of Scotch, Irish, and English, but in all the instances that came under my own observation they were signal failures. It is impossible for Europeans to withstand the effects of a tropical sun in the low country, if exposed to it from day to day in laborious outdoor work. Disease, brought on almost universally from intemperance, to which there is every temptation in the low price of spirits, soon decimates those who make the attempt. Were it not that rum is to be had for a