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Ulrich and George thirsted for one another's blood. They both looked for each other.
The two enemies stood glaring at one another for a long moment. Each had a rifle in his hand, each had hate in his heart and murder uppermost in his mind.
The two men stood arguing . Not wanting to shoot down his neighbor in cold blood.
Nature's own violence over whelmed them both. a mass of falling beech tree had thundered down on them.
Relief at being alive and exasperation at his captive plight brought a strange medley of pious thank offerings. They put away there differences to wait and bring release and succor to both parties.
After Ulrich gave a joyful cry, they could see figures coming through the precipitous woodland. "who are they?" asked George. "Wolves!"
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