"As the steps came near I peeped carefully out, and what should I see
but an ugly South American river-wolf, about three and a half feet long,
with a short, close fur of a bright ruddy yellow. I could not imagine
what had brought him after me, but the ways of the wicked are often
difficult to explain. There he was, and if once he could get me within
reach I was lost. On he came, snuffing and barking like a dog, making my
very hair stand on end. I waited for him to pass, but I think his
instinct must have told him I had paused, for he began to turn over the
shells with his ugly nose, as if searching for something. My single
weapon was a small dirk, as we kill only in self-defence.
"Bracing myself against the wall of my slight shelter, I stood in
expectation of an assault, and I had not long to wait. With an angry cry
he rushed upon me. His size seemed to me enormous, but my little knife
was a trusty blade, and with a great effort I drew it across his
dreadful throat.
"I will not dwell on these particulars. I had overcome my enemy. I
resumed my journey, and soon came to a region of the most beautiful
water-plants growing in greatest profusion. I knew by these that I was
not far from the home of the Fays.
"I neglected to tell you that before starting out the chief frost-worker
had given me a small vial of clear liquid, which, in case of any danger
from heat, I was to use for the preservation of the snow-wreath.
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