them was the great Black Wolf。 He was loping as before； head and
tail low。 Power was plain in every limb； and double power in his
jaws and neck； but I thought his bounds were shorter now； and
that they had lost their spring。 The Dogs slowly reached the
upper level； and sighting him they broke into a feeble cry； they；
too； were nearly spent。 The Greyhounds saw the chase； and leaving
us they scrambled down the ca駉n and up the other side at
impetuous speed that would surely break them down； while we rode；
vainly seeking means of crossing。
How the wolver raved to see the pack lead off in the climax of
the chase； and himself held up behind。 But he rode and wrathed
and still rode； up to where the ca駉n dwindledrough land and a
hard ride。 As we neared the great flat mountain； the feeble cry
of the pack was heard again from the south； then toward the high
Butte's side； and just a trifle louder now。 We reined in on a
hillock and scanned the snow。 A moving speck appeared； then
others； not bunched； but in a straggling train； and at times
there was a far faint cry。 They were headed toward us； coming on；
yes！ coming； but so slowly； for not one was really running now。
There was the grim old Cow…killer limping over the ground； and
far behind a Greyhound； and another； and farther still； the other
Dogs in order of their speed； slowly； gamely； dragging themselves
on that pursuit。 Many hours of hardest toil had done their work。
The Wolf had vainly sought to fling them off。 Now was his hour of
doom； for he was spent； they still had some reserve。 Straight to
us for a time they came； skirting the base of the mountain；
crawling。
We could not cross to join them； so held our breath and gazed
with ravenous eyes。 They were nearer now； the wind brought feeble
notes from the Hounds。 The big Wolf turned to the steep ascent；
up a well…known trail； it seemed； for he made no slip。 My heart
went with him； for he had come back to rescue his friend； and a
momentary thrill of pity came over us both； as we saw him glance
around and drag himself up the sloping way； to die on his
mountain。 There was no escape for him； beset by fifteen Dogs with
men to back them。 He was not walking； but tottering upward； the
Dogs behind in line； were now doing a little better； were nearing
him。 We could hear them gasping； we scarcely heard them baythey
had no breath for that； upward the grim procession went； circling
a spur of the Butte and along a ledge that climbed and narrowed；
then dropped for a few yards to a shelf that reared above the
canon。 The foremost Dogs were closing； fearless of a foe so
nearly spent。
Here in the narrowest place； where one wrong step meant death；
the great Wolf turned and faced them。 With fore…feet braced； with
head low and tail a little raised； his dusky mane a…bristling；
his glittering tusks laid bare； but uttering no sound that we
could hear； he faced the crew。 His legs were weak with toil； but
his neck； his jaws； and his heart were strong； andnow all you
who love the Dogs had better close the bookonup and
downfifteen to one； they came； the swiftest first； and how it
was done； the eye could scarcely see； but even as a stream of
water pours on a rock to be splashed in broken Jets aside； that
stream of
Dogs came pouring down the path； in single file perforce； and
Duskymane received them as they came。 A feeble spring； a
counter…lunge； a gash； and 〃Fango's down；〃 has lost his foothold
and is gone。 Dander and Coalie close and try to clinch； a rush； a
heave； and they are fallen from that narrow path。 Blue…spot then；
backed by mighty Oscar and fearless Tigebut the Wolf is next
the rock and the flash of combat clears to show him there alone；
the big Dogs gone； the rest close in； the hindmost force the
foremost ondown…to their death。 Slash； chop and heave； from the
swiftest to the biggest； to the last； downdownhe sent them
whirling from the ledge to the gaping gulch below； where rocks
and snags of trunks were sharp to do their work。
In fifty seconds it was done。 The rock had splashed the stream
asidethe Penroof pack was all wiped out； and Badlands Billy
stood there； alone again on his mountain。
A moment he waited to look for more to come。 There were no more；
the pack was dead； but waiting he got his breath； then raising
his voice for the first time in that fatal scene； he feebly gave
a long yell of triumph； and scaling the next low bank； was
screened from view in a ca駉n of Sentinel Butte。
We stared like men of stone。 The guns in our hands were
forgotten。 It was all so quick； so final。 We made no move till
the Wolf was gone。 It was not far to the place： we went on foot
to see if any had escaped。 Not one was left alive。 We could do
nothingwe could say nothing。
XI
THE HOWL AT SUNSET
A week later we were riding the upper trail back of the Chimney
Pot； King and I。 〃The old man is pretty sick of it；〃 he said。
〃He'd sell out if he could。 He don't know what's the next move。〃
The sun went down beyond Sentinel Butte。 It was dusk as we
reached the turn that led to Dumont's place； and a deep…toned
rolling howl came from the river flat below； followed by a number
of higher…pitched howls in answering chorus。 We could see
nothing； but we listened hard。 The song was repeated； the
hunting…cry of the Wolves。 It faded； the night was stirred by
another； the sharp bark and the short howl； the signal 〃close
in〃； a bellow came up； very short； for it was cut short。
And King as he touched his Horse said grimly： 〃That's him； he is
out with the pack； an' thar goes another Beef。〃
THE BOY AND THE LYNX
I
THE BOY
He was barely fifteen； a lover of sport and uncommonly keen； even
for a beginner。 Flocks of Wild Pigeons had been coming all day
across the blue Lake of Cayggeonull； and perching in line on the
dead limbs of the great rampikes that stood as monuments of fire；
around the little clearing in the forest； they afforded tempting
marks； but he followed them for hours in vain。 They seemed to
know the exact range of the old…fashioned shotgun and rose on
noisy wings each time before he was near enough to fire。 At
length a small flock scattered among the low green trees that
grew about the spring； near the log shanty； and taking advantage
of the cover； Thorburn went in gently。 He caught sight of a
single Pigeon close to him； took a long aim and fired。 A sharp
crack resounded at almost the same time and the bird fell dead。
Thorburn rushed to seize the prize just as a tall young man
stepped into view and picked it up。
〃Hello； Corney！ you got my bird！〃
〃Your burrud！ Sure yours flew away thayre。 I saw them settle
hayer and thought I'd make sure of wan with the rifle。〃
A careful examination showed that a rifle…ball as well as a
charge of shot had struck the Pigeon。 The gunners had fired on
the same bird。 Both enjoyed the joke； though it had its serious
side； for food as well as ammunition was scarce in that backwoods
home。
Corney； a superb specimen of a six…foot Irish…Canadian in early
manhood； now led away to the log shanty where the very scarcity
of luxuries and the roughness of their lives were sources of
merriment。 For the Colts； though born and bred in the backwoods
of Canada； had lost nothing of the spirit that makes the Irish
blood a world…wide synonym of heartiness and wit。
Corney was the eldest son of a large family。 The old folks lived
at Petersay； twenty…five miles to the southward。 He had taken up
a 〃claim〃 to carve his own home out of the woods at Fenebonk； and
his grown sisters； Margat； staid and reliable； and Loo； bright
and witty； were keeping house for him。 Thorburn Alder was
visiting them。 He had just recovered from a severe illness and
had been sent to rough it in the woods in hope of winning some of
the vigor of his hosts。 Their home was of unhewn logs； unfloored；
and roofed with sods； which bore a luxuriant crop of grass and
weeds。 The primitive woods around were broken in two places： one
where the roughest of roads led southward to Petersay； the other
where the sparkling lake rolled on a pebbly shore and gave a
glimpse of their nearest neighbor's house four miles across the
water。
Their daily round had little change。 Corney was up at daybreak to
light the fire； call his sisters； and feed the horses while they
prepared breakfast。 At six the meal was over and Corney went to
his work。 At noon； which Margat knew by the shadow of a certain
rampike falling on the spring； a clear notification to draw fresh
water for the table； Loo would hang a white rag on a pole； and
Corney； seeing the signal； would return from summer fallow or
hayfield； grimy； swarthy； and ruddy； a picture of manly vigor and
honest toil。 Thor might be away all day； but at night； when they
again assembled at the table； he would come from lake or distant
ridge and eat a supper like the dinner and breakfast； for meals
as well as days were exact repeats： pork； bread； potatoes； and
tea； with occasionally eggs supplied by a dozen hens around the
little log stable； with； rarely； a variation of wild meat； for
Thor was not a hunter and Corney had little time for anything but
the farm。
II
THE LYNX
A huge four…foot basswood had gone the way of all trees。 Death
had been generoushad sent the three warnings： it was the
biggest of its kind； its children were grown up； it was hollow。
The wintry blast that sent it down had broken it across and
revealed a great hole where should have been its heart。 A long
wooden cavern in the middle of a sunny opening； it now lay； and
presented an ideal home for a Lynx when she sought a sheltered
nesting…place for her coming brood。
Old was she and gaunt； for this was a year of hard times for the
Lynxes。 A Rabbit plague the autumn before had swept away their
main support； a winter of deep snow and sudden crusts had killed
off nearly all the Partridges； a long wet spring had destroyed
the few growing coveys and had kept the ponds and streams so full
that Fish and Frogs were safe from their armed paws； and this
mother Lynx fared no better than her kind。
The little oneshalf starved before they camewere a double
drain； for they took the time she might have spent in hunting。
The N