“Speak, or I will fire!” said he. No answer,—but a scampering through the passage. Geordie followed—he heard the robbers making their escape; he fired—the robber fell.
Lights were procured. It was found that the fellow was only slightly wounded in the leg, which prevented his running away. In the morning it was discovered who the robber was—it was the very boy, now grown a man, who had the cord and the brick-bats!
Chloe did not live long after this, but died of sheer old age; not, however, you see, till she had amply repaid the kindness which had been bestowed upon her by Geordie.—Learn from this, my little readers, a lesson of humanity!
The Sable-Hunter.
CHAPTER V.
A dissertation upon going on foot.—A fearful adventure with wolves.
Having taken leave of their Tungusian friends, the travellers proceeded on their journey, hoping, before many days, to reach Yakootsk—a large town on the Lena, and the great fur market of eastern Siberia. Here they intended to stay a few days, and then proceed down the Lena, in pursuit of game. Alexis expected also to find a letter there, from his sister, which was to be sent by the mail, and which would, of course, travel faster than the pedestrian party.
Incited, therefore, by several motives, the adventurers pressed cheerily forward upon their journey. But it was now October, and the ground was covered with snow. Every day, indeed, more or less snow fell, and the hunters found their progress much impeded by it. But in travelling, as in almost everything else, practice makes perfect. A man who is well trained to walking, can travel farther in a month than a horse; and as the power of going from place to place, without being dependent on horses, railroads, or even money, is a great thing, I advise all young persons—particularly young men—to learn to perform journeys on foot. The best way to travel over a country, is to go as a pedestrian. You can then stop and see the people along the road, and thus get acquainted with their manners and customs; their ways of living, acting and thinking.
Some of the pleasantest passages in my own life, occurred when I was journeying on foot; and they are perhaps more delightful in my recollection, that I had then a good, sound pair of legs—and now, alas! one of them is replaced by a “timber toe!” If I had time, I could relate many little incidents, to show that a traveller on foot is ever welcomed to the hut, the log-cabin, or the farm-house, along the road; and that his stories, his news, or even his company, are esteemed good pay for his lodging and his fare.