"'Well, of all things!' thought I, lowering my gun, and eyeing the impudent thing. 'Who are you?' I asked. 'Speak! If not, I shall scatter your brains to the four winds.' "But the bird merely grinned, turning his head from side to side, tauntingly. "'Bang!' I fired, and the report was terrific. For a while I could not see anything on account of the smoke, but, when the smoke had cleared away, I saw beneath the place where the insolent bird had been, a monk. He was holding the bleeding bird in his arms. Where had he come from? I began to have cold chills down my back, and worse, remorse crept into my soul. I turned to flee, but my boots stuck fast to the earth. "The monk spoke bluntly, but also very tenderly. 'Sir,' he said, 'thou has wronged thyself! Thinkest thou this poor bird, whose only fault was to be in thy angry, inhuman path, has died for naught? No, my son. Thou hast shot the King of Crows, and every drop of his blood, and every feather also, must be sacredly gathered by thee and brought to me before twelve hours have passed away.' "He held to my view the bleeding bird. "'But,' protested I, 'how can I gather blood that has already disappeared into the soil? Can his feathers be gathered--from where? I do not know.' "The monk shook his head sadly. 'Son, it must be done--it must be done!' "In a moment he was gone. I turned to run away, but I could not move my feet. Then thought I, 'it is indeed true.' "That night the shadows themselves became moving crows, and every noise appeared to be the voice of the dead bird. I shook with fear. The woods grew black as ink. The fireflies floated about, and all nature laughed at me. "Suddenly I heard the deep baying of wolves. I seized my gun and stood up. Nearer and nearer they came. "'Oh!' I exclaimed, 'am I to perish by their teeth!' "Soon I could see the gleam of yellow-red eyes glaring at me in the darkness. I aimed at the first one that came near me, and fired. There was a wild cry, and then the cracking of bones, for the others at once fell to devouring the wolf I had shot. Breathlessly I reloaded my double-barreled gun. In less time than I can tell it, the dead wolf was gone! Then there was a rush for me. I fired again, with the same result. Half an hour passed, and my ammunition gave out. Seizing the muzzle of my gun, I determined to fight to the end. When the wolves leaped at me, I sprang back: my feet were free. With the butt end of the gun, I beat them off, running backward all the time. Suddenly my back struck against a tree, and in a moment I sprang for it. A wolf seized me by the leg. My trousers ripped, but I scrambled up the tree!" "Oh!" exclaimed Charlie, "what about the monk and the crow?"