One huge old wolf had outsped the rest--not that he could run
faster, but that from experience he could more exactly judge whence
the cries came, and as he shot through the wood, she caught sight at
last of his lamping eyes coming swiftly nearer and nearer. Terror
silenced her. She stood with her mouth open, as if she were going to
eat the wolf, but she had no breath to scream with, and her tongue
curled up in her mouth like a withered and frozen leaf. She could do
nothing but stare at the coming monster. And now he was taking a few
shorter bounds, measuring the distance for the one final leap that
should bring him upon her, when out stepped the wise woman from
behind the very tree by which she had set the princess down, caught
the wolf by the throat half-way in his last spring, shook him once,
and threw him from her dead. Then she turned towards the princess,
who flung herself into her arms, and was instantly lapped in the
folds of her cloak.
But now the huge army of wolves and hyenas had rushed like a sea
around them, whose waves leaped with hoarse roar and hollow yell up
against the wise woman.
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