"Come along." The two lads spurred their horses and rode recklessly through the trees towards the great gray beast, who seemed to flit like a shadow past them.
"Mind the boughs, Ernest, or you will be swept from your saddle.
Hurrah! The trees are more open in front." But although the horses were going at the top of their speed they scarcely seemed to gain on the wolf, who, as it seemed to them, kept his distance ahead without any great exertion.
"We shall never catch him," Harry exclaimed after they had ridden for nearly half an hour, and the laboured panting of the horses showed that they could not long maintain the pace.
Suddenly, ten yards ahead of the wolf, a man, armed with a hatchet, stepped out from behind a tree directly in its way.

He was a wood-cutter whose attention being called by the sound of the galloping feet of the horses, had left his half-hewn tree and stepped out to see who was coming.

He gave an exclamation of surprise and alarm as he saw the wolf, and raised his hatchet to defend himself.
Without a moment's hesitation the animal sprang upon him and carried him to the ground, fixing its fangs into his throat.

There was a struggle for a few moments, and then the wolf left its lifeless foe and was about to continue its flight.
"Get ready to fire, Harry," Ernest exclaimed as the wolf sprang upon the man, "it is our last chance.

If he gets away now we shall never catch him." They reined in their horses just as the wolf rose to fly.