"Alas! A sad reverse of fortune awaited her. It was a cold, bleak night; the valleys were clothed with deep snow, and the cold north wind was blowing fiercely. Widow Margaret was driving her cow to the stream which flowed at the base of the mountain. As the poor animal was drinking at the stream, a frightful howl was heard, and suddenly an enormous wolf sprang out of the forest and tore the cow before the widow's eyes. Margaret fled. The snow was red with the blood of the cow. The poor widow wept bitterly. Not only for the loss was her grief so great, but because she pitied the defenceless animal. [Illustration] "The report of the disaster soon spread. The wolf committed other depredations. Now a lamb was torn from the fold, now a horse was left dead upon the road; people were afraid to stir out of their homes, so terrible were the ravages of the monster. "Of all gallant sportsmen there were none more fond of the chase than knight Ulrich of Wildburg. To him it was the breath of his nostrils. His whole being appeared made up of intense love for the chase, and when the bugle horn was ringing in the sharp, clear morning air, none were so happy as the gallant Ulrich. His son Conrad, a lad about fourteen, shared his father's admiration for the chase, and a great delight it was to him to ride into the forest depths when one was at hand. "It was determined to make a regular foray on the wolf. To hunt him would be fine sport, to kill him would be a public benefit; Knight Ulrich sallied forth. A gallant train attended him, all armed with swords and javelins, and bows and arrows, and accompanied by a fine pack of wolf-hounds. "Slowly and cautiously they entered the forest, the huntsmen keeping within call of each other, that they might be able to help one another, should the necessity of the case require it. Conrad soon grew tired of this slow work, and hoping that he might be fortunate enough to kill the wolf single-handed, quietly slipped away from his father's side, and pushed into the heart of the forest. Cautiously removing the stems and branches in his way, so that he might not disturb the wolf too quickly, he advanced with bended bow into an open space in the wood, and then he discovered the wolf issuing from a thicket. "The twang of his bow-string was heard, and the arrow shot through the air, and struck the shaggy monster on the chest; but the distance was too great to allow the arrow to do its work, and the animal was only slightly wounded. With a ferocious howl, he sprang forward, smarting from the wound.