I do wish you could have been along on this trip. It has been great
fun. In Oklahoma our party got all told seventeen coyotes with the
greyhounds. I was in at the death of eleven, the only ones started by
the dogs with which I happened to be. In one run the three Easterners
covered themselves with glory, as Dr. Lambert, Roly Fortescue and I were
the only ones who got through excepting Abernethy, the wolf hunter. It
happened because it was a nine-mile run and all the cowboys rode their
horses to a standstill in the first three or four miles, after which I
came bounding along, like Kermit in the paper chase, and got to the end
in time to see the really remarkable feat of Abernethy jumping on to the
wolf, thrusting his gloved hand into its mouth, and mastering it then
and there. He never used a knife or a rope in taking these wolves,
seizing them by sheer quickness and address and thrusting his hand into
the wolf's mouth in such a way that it lost all power to bite. You would
have loved Tom Burnett, the son of the big cattle man. He is a splendid
fellow, about thirty years old, and just the ideal of what a young
cattle man should be.
Up here we have opened well. We have two cracker jacks as guides--John
Goff, my old guide on the mountain lion hunt, and Jake Borah, who has
somewhat the Seth Bullock type of face. We have about thirty dogs,
including one absurd little terrier about half Jack's size, named Skip.
Skip trots all day long with the hounds, excepting when he can persuade
Mr. Stewart, or Dr. Lambert, or me to take him up for a ride, for which
he is always begging. He is most affectionate and intelligent, but when
there is a bear or lynx at bay he joins in the fight with all the fury
of a bull dog, though I do not think he is much more effective than
one of your Japanese mice would be. I should like to bring him home for
Archie or Quentin. He would go everywhere with them and would ride Betsy
or Algonquin.
On the third day out I got a fine big black bear, an old male who would
not tree, but made what they call in Mississippi a walking bay with the
dogs, fighting them off all the time. The chase lasted nearly two hours
and was ended by a hard scramble up a canyon side; and I made a pretty
good shot at him as he was walking off with the pack around him. He
killed one dog and crippled three that I think will recover, besides
scratching others. My 30-40 Springfield worked to perfection on the
bear.
I suppose you are now in the thick of your studies and will have but
little time to rest after the examinations. I shall be back about the
18th, and then we can take up our tennis again. Give my regards to Matt.
I am particularly pleased that Maurice turned out so well. He has always
been so pleasant to me that I had hoped he would turn out all right in
the end.