LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume VIII, Issue 972, 7 August 1877, Page 3

LITERATURE.

*■ <s* dearer than life. by s. a. School was over, and out of the rough but not unpicturesque log building which served for both church and sehoolhouse in the little backwoods settlement came rushing. in one tumultuous mass, a score or more of sturdy boys and rosy-cheekcd girls, of all ages, from six to sixteen. The sharp Canadian winter had just set in in real earnest, and the children’s merry voices rang out, clear and distinct, upon the keen frosty air, as, half wild with delight, they sped away merrily and noisily homewards.

Inside the sehoolhouse a tall, fair-haired girl was standing by the blackboard, collecting her books, with a thoughtful, serious air that seemed to contrast strangely with her dimpled cheeks, archly-curving lips, and bright, sparkling eyes. Suddenly, picking up a piece of chalk, she wrote upon the blackboard the one word ‘Finis;’ and, turning towards the teacher, a tall, grave-looking man of four or tivc-and-thirty, who was standing by his desk, she exclaimed, ‘So ends my last day of school life ! Are you not glad, Mr Lester ?’

‘And why should 1 be glad, Miss Dale?’ was the questioning reply; and Robert Lester’s pale face flushed as he turned towards bis fair pupil. * Why, indeed 1 Have you not told me, a hundred times, that I gave you more trouble than any other pupil in the school. And a glance, half merry, half defiant, flashed from under tbe coquettish little straw hat, up into the teacher's face.

‘ Yes ; I have said many things that I did not half mean, I have no doubt. Bub Jet us forget all that. Won’t you shake hands, and part friends, Miss Dale ?’ ‘Of course. We have never been enemies, have we ?’ answered the girl, looking up wonderingly into his earnest face. Then, quickly (the merry, defiant look suddenly vanishing from her dark eyes), ‘ I must run away home now. I have lots of things to do before supper; and the sun is not more than half an hour high. Good-bye, Mr Lester. ’

‘Good-bye, and merry holidays to you, Miss Dale.’

And the worn, grave look came back to his face, as the slight gray-robed figure passed out at the open door, and, with a sigh, Robert Lester turned again to his desk, and began arranging his books and papers.

For nearly two years Robert Lester had been teacher of the village school at Westbrook, a small settlement on the western shore of Spirit Lake, in the ‘far west’(of Canada, and Minnie Dale was not far wrong when she half-jokingly accused him of having called her the most troublesome of her scholars.

She was a merry, wilful girl; the petted and spoiled darling of her forest home ; the acknowledged hollo of the settlement; just a little bit of a coquette, yet true as steel, notwithstanding ; frank and fearless, and, as is often the case in the colonies, a good shot, and a splendid horsewoman. On the afternoon of the day before Christmas, a week after the breaking up of the school, Robert Lester, who had started that morning on a skating expedition up the lake (which though not over a mile or two broad, was nearly twenty miles long), was slowly skating homewards along the eastern shore, when, on turning round a bend, about seven miles, above Westbrook, where the road from thac village to the next settlement runs for some distance close to the lake shore, he came suddenly upon an empty sleigh, lying on its side on the snowcovered road.

Close by the overturned vehicle, with a perplexed look in her usually laughing eyes, stood Minnie Dale, who looked up suddenly, as the ringing of his skates upon the ice proclaimed his approach ‘Mr Lester !’ she exclaimed, a faint crimson Hush rising to her forehead as she recognised him, ‘iam so glad ! I—l am in a li\, you s<;o. My horse bolted scared by a deer which ran suddenly rcross the track. He seemed to jump right out of his harness, and has carried away the shafts with him ’

‘I see,’ said Mr Lester, coming closer, and examining the overturned sleigh, which, having been made for Minnie’s own special use, was very small apd light, and proved, upon examination, to ho almost uninjured, with the exception of the broken shafts, which had snapped off close to the body of the sleigh- ‘ Well, Miss Dale,’ he continued, restoring the sleigh to an upright position, and pushing it before him, over the hard snow, towards the frozen lake; ‘ the best plan I can think of will be for you to get into the sleigh, and let me push you along before rnc over the ice. Will you come ?’ he added, holding out a hand to guide her down the bank.

‘ Thank you. But will it not be very hard work for you V asked Minnie, as she took his offered hand.

* Not at all,’ was the brief, earnest-spoken reply; and very carefully Robert Lester handed the dainty little fur-clad Jigure into the tiny sleigh, ami wrapping the warm rugs around her, he started oil" at an easy swinging pace over the smooth frozen surface of the lake, on the seven mile journey which lay before thorn. It was nearly sundown when they started, but neither of them felt any uneasiness at the approach of evening, as the moon was nearly full : and they were gliding merrily along. Minnie’s clear, pure voice keeping time to the ring of the skates with the Canadian boatman's hymn, when, suddenly, sharp and distinct, a sound, something between a bark and cry, echoed through the stillness of the woods behind them. ‘ Wolves !’ exclaimed Minnie, turning half round in the sleigh, and looking up into her emnp anion’s face ; and oven as she spoke the cry was repeated, and taken np and reechoed from the opposite shore of the lake, which was heie not more than half a mile wide.

‘ y es, a pack of them, lam afraid,’ replied Hebert. ‘You can shoot, Minnie, ’be added, after a moment’s silence, during which the erics were heard on both sides, louder and more gi'gmerons than before.

' Yes,’ Ala whispered, Hushing crimson, oven tlic.il, at the sound of her Christian name from his lips, ‘ Take this, then ; ’ and he drew a small live-shooter from his pocket, and handed it toher. ‘ Hut don’t nac it until I tell you. I may distance them yet; ’ and ait iking out vigorously, the alioll-lika sleigh was soot: skimming over tho smooth ioo at racing speed.

Still from the forest ou either side came the small barking cries—never forgotten by those who have heard them under like circumstances—of the hungry wolves. Anri though the tiny sleigh skims faster and faster over the ice, yet nearer, clearer, and more distinct than ever the savage yells echo in the ears of those two, who know now that they are racing for dear life, until a louder, fuller chorus than ever bursts upon the frosty air, and turning his head, Hebert sees that their pursuers are clear of the woods, and following them with increased swiftness over the ice.

Faster and faster fspeeds the sleigh, until it scarcely seems to touch the ice, but yet not fast enough to keep long ahead of the ileet feet that follow it. Even now an angry growl is heard close behind, and rising carefully in the sleigh, Minnie perceives the leader of the pack, a gaunt, hungry-looking wolf, with fierce, gleaming eyes and long red tongue hanging out of his open jaws, not a dozen yards behind.

It was no time tor words. A quick glance into her companion’s face, a sharp, spiteful report from the pistol, and the foremost of the baud rolls over on tbe ice, and Robert, redoubling his exertions, makes the most of the brief respite caused by the momentary delay of the pack around the dead body of their companion. It was but for a moment, however. Then fiercer and more blood-thirsty than ever, the four-footed demons start again in pursuit. Again, and yet again, the brave girl fires, each time bringing down one of the pack, until, as the empty pistol falls from her hand, and she si Acs back on the seat in utter despair, the last bend of the shore is doubled, and there, a mile below, the snow covered roof of her father's house is in sight, while halfway between several figures are seen on the ice skating towards them

‘ Courage, darling !’ cried Robert, pointing ahead. ‘Too late, Robert!’ she whispered, as a growl was heard almost abreast of the sleigh, and a dozen pairs of tierce, bloodshot eyes gleamed redly close behind. ‘ Not for you, Minnie. Heaven bless you, my own love!’ and impelled by the wild, almost superhuman strength of that last desperate push, the light sleigh shot like an arrow forward over the ice, and then, before Minnie could look up, or regain her breath, before the sound of that last passionate farewell had died away, slowly came to a standstill, right in front of her father and three brothers, who had started up the lake in search of her.

‘ Robert ! 5 Oh, father, save him.! ho has given his life for me ! ’ was Minnie’s first exclamation when she. awoke to the consciousness that she was safe in her father’s arms ; and, even as she spoke, her brothers advanced, bearing the body of Robert Lester, which, with much difficulty, they had rescued from the disappointed wolves. ‘ Oh, ho is dead !he is dead ! And he died for mo I’ cried Minnie, passionately kissing the pale, still face, as they laid the lifeless body carefully in the sleigh, and started slowly homeward.

But though terribly mangled and injured in the short, sharp tight that took place when, having given his own life for that of the girl he loved, Robert Lester turned and fiercely faced his pursuers, he was not dead, though it took many weeks of Mrs Dale’s skilful nursing and motherly care to win him back to health, and the warm spring sunshine had melted the s ow and ice before he returned to his post at the old log school-house.

But now a pair of tender, loving eyes watch for his return when school is over a true-hearted little wife makes the neat little white washed frame house where he kept ‘Bachelor’s .HalP so long, the ‘dearest, sweetest spot on earth and as he stands on this bright spring evening, watching the blue waters of the lake trembling in the glory of the setting sun, two white arms steal round his neck, and Minnie’s dark eyes look up shyly into his face, as she says, * I gave you trouble enough in my schooldays, Robert. I will try to be a blessing, instead of a trouble to you, hereafter.’