_Olaf._ Let go my cloak--they shall not hurt thee, child! [_to the hunter._] Thou cursed man!--Dost see these savage beasts, And yet sit grinning there, as thou had’st done A piece of hunter-craft! _Hunt._ You carry arms-- Cannot you fire upon them? They will gorge Upon each other, and be pacified! _Olaf._ If they taste blood, they will be more ferocious-- And thou knowest well, we have not ammunition For such a strife! yet will I fire upon them, Their savage barking will bring others down. [_He fires._ _Paol._ Oh horrid! how they tear each other’s flesh. _Olaf._ Now hurry forward, for our only hope Lies in out-speeding them! _Paol._ Let us go home! _Olaf._ Again they are upon us--their gaunt jaws Dropping with blood, which they lick evermore! Now for another slaughter! _Hunt._ ’Tis in vain, For right and left, yet other packs are coming! _Paol._ Oh father, father, they will be upon us! And I shall never see my mother more! _Hunt._ Peace, brawling child! _Olaf._ My poor, dear boy, be still. _Paol._ I will, I will, dear father! _Olaf._ [_To the hunter._] Cursed murderer. His blood will be upon thy head! _Hunt._ Indeed! Who forced him from his mother ’gainst his will? _Olaf._ Most strange, inhuman wretch! _Hunt._ Nay, use thy gun, ’Twill do thee better service than thy tongue! _Olaf._ [_aside._] Please heaven I live, I’ll pay thee for this hunt, Wages thou didst not ask! [_He puts his last charge into his piece._ This is the last-- When this is done, there is no other hope But in our flight! _He fires._ Now heaven must be our helper! On, on, spare not the thong! [_The horse in dashing forward, breaks from the sledge; the wolves fall upon him instantly._ _Olaf._ Now must we fly! _Hunt._ There is a hut among these icy deserts Raised by some hunters. While they gorge themselves We may escape. _Paol._ Take, take my hand, dear father! _Olaf._ How cold it is, poor boy! [_They turn among the ice-mountains, and soon are out of sight._ SCENE V. _A chaotic wilderness of icebergs._ _Enter the_ HUNTER, _and_ OLAF _carrying_ PAOLO, _who appears faint_. _Hunt._ I hear their bark--we are not much ahead! _Olaf._ How far is’t now unto the hunter’s cabin? _Hunt._ A half hour it would take us, could we run At our best speed--but cumbered with the child, What can we do? _Paol._ Dear father, I will run-- I will not cumber thee--I am strong now! _Olaf._ My poor dear boy, thou canst not! would to heaven Thou wert at home! _Paol._ How kind thou art, dear father! I will run on--I will not cumber thee!