One night late in September after the last streak of light was gone
from the west and the Coyotes had begun their yapping chorus, a deep,
booming sound was heard. King took out his pipe, turned his head and
said: "That's him--that's old Billy. He's been watching us all day from
some high place, and now when the guns are useless he's here to have a
little fun with us."
Two or three Dogs arose, with bristling manes, for they clearly
recognized that this was no Coyote. They rushed out into the night, but
did not go far; their brawling sounds were suddenly varied by loud
yelps, and they came running back to the shelter of the fire. One was
so badly cut in the shoulder that he was useless for the rest of the
hunt. Another was hurt in the flank--it seemed the less serious wound,
and yet next morning the hunters buried that second Dog.
The men were furious. They vowed speedy vengeance, and at dawn were off
on the trail. The Coyotes yelped their dawning song, but they melted
into the hills when the light was strong. The hunters searched about
for the big Wolf's track, hoping that the Hounds would be able to take
it up and find him, but they either could not or would not.
They found a Coyote, however, and within a few hundred yards they
killed him. It was a victory, I suppose, for Coyotes kill Calves and
Sheep, but somehow I felt the common thought of all: "Mighty brave Dogs
for a little Coyote, but they could not face the big Wolf last night."
Young Penroof, as though in answer to one of the unput questions, said:
"Say, boys, I believe old Billy had a hull bunch of Wolves with him
last night."
"Didn't see but one track," said King gruffly.
In this way the whole of October slipped by; all day hard riding after
doubtful trails, following the Dogs, who either could not keep the big
trail or feared to do so, and again and again we had news of damage
done by the Wolf; sometimes a cowboy would report it to us; and
sometimes we found the carcasses ourselves. A few of these we poisoned,
though it is considered a very dangerous thing to do while running
Dogs. The end of the month found us a weather-beaten, dispirited lot of
men, with a worn-out lot of Horses, and a foot-sore pack, reduced in
numbers from ten to seven. So far we had killed only one Gray-wolf and
three Coyotes; Badlands Billy had killed at least a dozen Cows and Dogs
at fifty dollars a head. Some of the boys decided to give it up and go
home, so King took advantage of their going, to send a letter, asking
for reënforcements including all the spare Dogs at the ranch.
During the two days' wait we rested our Horses, shot some game, and
prepared for a harder hunt. Late on the second day the new Dogs
arrived--eight beauties--and raised the working pack to fifteen.
The weather now turned much cooler, and in the morning, to the joy of
the wolvers, the ground was white with snow. This surely meant success.
With cool weather for the Dogs and Horses to run; with the big Wolf not
far away, for he had been heard the night before; and with tracking
snow, so that once found he could not baffle us,--escape for him was
impossible.
We were up at dawn, but before we could get away, three men came riding
into camp. They were the Penroof boys back again. The change of weather
had changed their minds; they knew that with snow we might have luck.
"Remember now," said King, as all were mounting, "we don't want any but
Badlands Billy this trip. Get him an' we kin bust up the hull
combination. It is a five-and-a-half-inch track."
And each measured off on his quirt handle, or on his glove, the exact
five and a half inches that was to be used in testing the tracks he
might find.
Not more than an hour elapsed before we got a signal from the rider who
had gone westward. One shot: that means "attention," a pause while
counting ten, then two shots: that means "come on."
King gathered the Dogs and rode direct to the distant figure on the
hill. All hearts beat high with hope, and we were not disappointed.
Some small Wolf tracks had been found, but here at last was the big
track, nearly six inches long. Young Penroof wanted to yell and set out
at full gallop. It was like hunting a Lion; it was like finding
happiness long deferred. The hunter knows nothing more inspiring than
the clean-cut line of fresh tracks that is leading to a wonderful
animal, he has long been hunting in vain. How King's eye gleamed as he
gloated over the sign!