initial commit of ebook 2284HEADmain

11 files changed, 26088 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6833f05
--- /dev/null
+++ b/.gitattributes
@@ -0,0 +1,3 @@
+* text=auto
+*.txt text
+*.md text
diff --git a/2284-8.txt b/2284-8.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..52783bb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/2284-8.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,6049 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Animal Heroes, by Ernest Thompson Seton
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Animal Heroes
+
+Author: Ernest Thompson Seton
+
+Posting Date: March 21, 2009 [EBook #2284]
+Release Date: August, 2000
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANIMAL HEROES ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Bill Stoddard.  HTML version by Al Haines.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Animal Heroes
+
+
+by
+
+Ernest Thompson Seton
+
+
+
+
+Note to Reader
+
+A hero is an individual of unusual gifts and achievements. Whether it
+be man or animal, this definition applies; and it is the histories of
+such that appeal to the imagination and to the hearts of those who hear
+them.
+
+In this volume every one of the stories, though more or less composite,
+is founded on the actual life of a veritable animal hero. The most
+composite is the White Reindeer. This story I wrote by Utrovand in
+Norway during the summer of 1900, while the Reindeer herds grazed in
+sight on the near uplands.
+
+The Lynx is founded on some of my own early experiences in the
+backwoods.
+
+It is less than ten years since the 'Jack Warhorse' won his hero-crown.
+Thousands of "Kaskadoans" will remember him, and by the name Warhorse
+his coursing exploits are recorded in several daily papers.
+
+The least composite is Arnaux. It is so nearly historical that several
+who knew the bird have supplied additional items of information.
+
+The nest of the destroying Peregrines, with its owners and their young,
+is now to be seen in the American Museum of Natural History of New
+York. The Museum authorities inform me that Pigeon badges with the
+following numbers were found in the nest: 9970-S, 1696, U. 63, 77, J.
+F. 52, Ex. 705, 6-1894, C 20900. Perhaps some Pigeon-lover may learn
+from these lines the fate of one or other wonderful flier that has long
+been recorded "never returned."
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+  THE SLUM CAT
+  ARNAUX--The Chronicle of a Homing Pigeon
+  BADLANDS BILLY--The Wolf that Won
+  THE BOY AND THE LYNX
+  LITTLE WARHORSE--The History of a Jack-rabbit
+  SNAP--The Story of a Bull-Terrier
+  THE WINNIPEG WOLF
+  THE LEGEND OF THE WHITE REINDEER
+
+
+
+
+THE SLUM CAT
+
+LIFE I
+
+I
+
+"M-e-a-t! M-e-a-t!" came shrilling down Scrimper's Alley. Surely the
+Pied Piper of Hamelin was there, for it seemed that all the Cats in the
+neighborhood were running toward the sound, though the Dogs, it must be
+confessed, looked scornfully indifferent.
+
+"Meat! Meat!" and louder; then the centre of attraction came in view--a
+rough, dirty little man with a push-cart; while straggling behind him
+were a score of Cats that joined in his cry with a sound nearly the
+same as his own. Every fifty yards, that is, as soon as a goodly throng
+of Cats was gathered, the push-cart stopped. The man with the magic
+voice took out of the box in his cart a skewer on which were pieces of
+strong-smelling boiled liver. With a long stick he pushed the pieces
+off. Each Cat seized on one, and wheeling, with a slight depression of
+the ears and a little tiger growl and glare, she rushed away with her
+prize to devour it in some safe retreat.
+
+"Meat! Meat!" And still they came to get their portions. All were well
+known to the meat-man. There was Castiglione's Tiger; this was Jones's
+Black; here was Pralitsky's "Torkershell," and this was Madame Danton's
+White; there sneaked Blenkinshoff's Maltee, and that climbing on the
+barrow was Sawyer's old Orange Billy, an impudent fraud that never had
+had any financial backing,--all to be remembered and kept in account.
+This one's owner was sure pay, a dime a week; that one's doubtful.
+There was John Washee's Cat, that got only a small piece because John
+was in arrears. Then there was the saloon-keeper's collared and
+ribboned ratter, which got an extra lump because the 'barkeep' was
+liberal; and the rounds-man's Cat, that brought no cash, but got
+unusual consideration because the meat-man did. But there were others.
+A black Cat with a white nose came rushing confidently with the rest,
+only to be repulsed savagely. Alas! Pussy did not understand. She had
+been a pensioner of the barrow for months. Why this unkind change? It
+was beyond her comprehension. But the meat-man knew. Her mistress had
+stopped payment. The meat-man kept no books but his memory, and it
+never was at fault.
+
+Outside this patrician 'four hundred' about the barrow, were other
+Cats, keeping away from the push-cart because they were not on the
+list, the Social Register as it were, yet fascinated by the heavenly
+smell and the faint possibility of accidental good luck. Among these
+hangers-on was a thin gray Slummer, a homeless Cat that lived by her
+wits--slab-sided and not over-clean. One could see at a glance that she
+was doing her duty by a family in some out-of-the-way corner. She kept
+one eye on the barrow circle and the other on the possible Dogs.
+
+She saw a score of happy Cats slink off with their delicious 'daily'
+and their tiger-like air, but no opening for her, till a big Tom of her
+own class sprang on a little pensioner with intent to rob. The victim
+dropped the meat to defend herself against the enemy, and before the
+'all-powerful' could intervene, the gray Slummer saw her chance, seized
+the prize, and was gone.
+
+She went through the hole in Menzie's side door and over the wall at
+the back, then sat down and devoured the lump of liver, licked her
+chops, felt absolutely happy, and set out by devious ways to the
+rubbish-yard, where, in the bottom of an old cracker-box, her family
+was awaiting her. A plaintive mewing reached her ears. She went at
+speed and reached the box to see a huge Black Tom-cat calmly destroying
+her brood. He was twice as big as she, but she went at him with all her
+strength, and he did as most animals will do when caught wrong-doing,
+he turned and ran away. Only one was left, a little thing like its
+mother, but of more pronounced color--gray with black spots, and a
+white touch on nose, ears, and tail-tip. There can be no question of
+the mother's grief for a few days; but that wore off, and all her care
+was for the survivor. That benevolence was as far as possible from the
+motives of the murderous old Tom there can be no doubt; but he proved a
+blessing in deep disguise, for both mother and Kit were visibly
+bettered in a short time. The daily quest for food continued. The
+meat-man rarely proved a success, but the ash-cans were there, and if
+they did not afford a meat-supply, at least they were sure to produce
+potato-skins that could be used to allay the gripe of hunger for
+another day.
+
+One night the mother Cat smelt a wonderful smell that came from the
+East River at the end of the alley. A new smell always needs
+investigating, and when it is attractive as well as new, there is but
+one course open. It led Pussy to the docks a block away, and then out
+on a wharf, away from any cover but the night. A sudden noise, a growl
+and a rush, were the first notice she had that she was cut off by her
+old enemy, the Wharf Dog. There was only one escape. She leaped from
+the wharf to the vessel from which the smell came. The Dog could not
+follow, so when the fish-boat sailed in the morning Pussy unwillingly
+went with her and was seen no more.
+
+
+II
+
+The Slum Kitten waited in vain for her mother. The morning came and
+went. She became very hungry. Toward evening a deep-laid instinct drove
+her forth to seek food. She slunk out of the old box, and feeling her
+way silently among the rubbish, she smelt everything that seemed
+eatable, but without finding food. At length she reached the wooden
+steps leading down into Jap Malee's bird-store underground. The door
+was open a little. She wandered into a world of rank and curious smells
+and a number of living things in cages all about her. A negro was
+sitting idly on a box in a corner. He saw the little stranger enter and
+watched it curiously. It wandered past some Rabbits. They paid no heed.
+It came to a wide-barred cage in which was a Fox. The gentleman with
+the bushy tail was in a far corner. He crouched low; his eyes glowed.
+The Kitten wandered, sniffing, up to the bars, put its head in, sniffed
+again, then made toward the feed-pan, to be seized in a flash by the
+crouching Fox. It gave a frightened "mew," but a single shake cut that
+short and would have ended Kitty's nine lives at once, had not the
+negro come to the rescue. He had no weapon and could not get into the
+cage, but he spat with such copious vigor in the Fox's face that he
+dropped the Kitten and returned to the corner, there to sit blinking
+his eyes in sullen fear.
+
+The negro pulled the Kitten out. The shake of the beast of prey seemed
+to have stunned the victim, really to have saved it much suffering. The
+Kitten seemed unharmed, but giddy. It tottered in a circle for a time,
+then slowly revived, and a few minutes later was purring in the negro's
+lap, apparently none the worse, when Jap Malee, the bird-man, came home.
+
+Jap was not an Oriental; he was a full-blooded Cockney, but his eyes
+were such little accidental slits aslant in his round, flat face, that
+his first name was forgotten in the highly descriptive title of "Jap."
+He was not especially unkind to the birds and beasts whose sales were
+supposed to furnish his living, but his eye was on the main chance; he
+knew what he wanted. He didn't want the Slum Kitten.
+
+The negro gave it all the food it could eat, then carried it to a
+distant block and dropped it in a neighboring iron-yard.
+
+
+III
+
+One full meal is as much as any one needs in two or three days, and
+under the influence of this stored-up heat and power, Kitty was very
+lively. She walked around the piled-up rubbish, cast curious glances on
+far-away Canary-birds in cages that hung from high windows; she peeped
+over fences, discovered a large Dog, got quietly down again, and
+presently finding a sheltered place in full sunlight, she lay down and
+slept for an hour. A slight 'sniff' awakened her, and before her stood
+a large Black Cat with glowing green eyes, and the thick neck and
+square jaws that distinguish the Tom; a scar marked his cheek, and his
+left ear was torn. His look was far from friendly; his ears moved
+backward a little, his tail twitched, and a faint, deep sound came from
+his throat. The Kitten innocently walked toward him. She did not
+remember him. He rubbed the sides of his jaws on a post, and quietly,
+slowly turned and disappeared. The last that she saw of him was the end
+of his tail twitching from side to side; and the little Slummer had no
+idea that she had been as near death to-day, as she had been when she
+ventured into the fox-cage.
+
+As night came on the Kitten began to feel hungry. She examined
+carefully the long invisible colored stream that the wind is made of.
+She selected the most interesting of its strands, and, nose-led,
+followed. In the corner of the iron-yard was a box of garbage. Among
+this she found something that answered fairly well for food; a bucket
+of water under a faucet offered a chance to quench her thirst.
+
+The night was spent chiefly in prowling about and learning the main
+lines of the iron-yard. The next day she passed as before, sleeping in
+the sun. Thus the time wore on. Sometimes she found a good meal at the
+garbage-box, sometimes there was nothing. Once she found the big Black
+Tom there, but discreetly withdrew before he saw her. The water-bucket
+was usually at its place, or, failing that, there were some muddy
+little pools on the stone below. But the garbage-box was very
+unreliable. Once it left her for three days without food. She searched
+along the high fence, and seeing a small hole, crawled through that and
+found herself in the open street. This was a new world, but before she
+had ventured far, there was a noisy, rumbling rush--a large Dog came
+bounding, and Kitty had barely time to run back into the hole in the
+fence. She was dreadfully hungry, and glad to find some old
+potato-peelings, which gave a little respite from the hunger-pang. In
+the morning she did not sleep, but prowled for food. Some Sparrows
+chirruped in the yard. They were often there, but now they were viewed
+with new eyes. The steady pressure of hunger had roused the wild hunter
+in the Kitten; those Sparrows were game--were food. She crouched
+instinctively and stalked from cover to cover, but the chirpers were
+alert and flew in time. Not once, but many times, she tried without
+result except to confirm the Sparrows in the list of things to be eaten
+if obtainable.
+
+On the fifth day of ill luck the Slum Kitty ventured forth into the
+street, desperately bent on finding food. When far from the haven hole
+some small boys opened fire at her with pieces of brick. She ran in
+fear. A Dog joined in the chase, and Kitty's position grew perilous;
+but an old-fashioned iron fence round a house-front was there, and she
+slipped in between the rails as the Dog overtook her. A woman in a
+window above shouted at the Dog. Then the boys dropped a piece of
+cat-meat down to the unfortunate; and Kitty had the most delicious meal
+of her life. The stoop afforded a refuge. Under this she sat patiently
+till nightfall came with quiet, then sneaked back like a shadow to her
+old iron-yard.
+
+Thus the days went by for two months. She grew in size and strength and
+in an intimate knowledge of the immediate neighborhood. She made the
+acquaintance of Downey Street, where long rows of ash-cans were to be
+seen every morning. She formed her own ideas of their proprietors. The
+big house was to her, not a Roman Catholic mission, but a place whose
+garbage-tins abounded in choicest fish scrapings. She soon made the
+acquaintance of the meat-man, and joined in the shy fringe of Cats that
+formed the outer circle. She also met the Wharf Dog as well as two or
+three other horrors of the same class. She knew what to expect of them
+and how to avoid them; and she was happy in being the inventor of a new
+industry. Many thousand Cats have doubtless hung, in hope, about the
+tempting milk-cans that the early milk-man leaves on steps and
+window-ledges, and it was by the merest accident that Kitty found one
+with a broken lid, and so was taught to raise it and have a satisfying
+drink. Bottles, of course, were beyond her, but many a can has a misfit
+lid, and Kitty was very painstaking in her efforts to discover the
+loose-jointed ones. Finally she extended her range by exploration till
+she achieved the heart of the next block, and farther, till once more
+among the barrels and boxes of the yard behind the bird-man's cellar.
+
+The old iron-yard never had been home, she had always felt like a
+stranger there; but here she had a sense of ownership, and at once
+resented the presence of another small Cat. She approached this
+newcomer with threatening air. The two had got as far as snarling and
+spitting when a bucket of water from an upper window drenched them both
+and effectually cooled their wrath. They fled, the newcomer over the
+wall, Slum Kitty under the very box where she had been born. This whole
+back region appealed to her strongly, and here again she took up her
+abode. The yard had no more garbage food than the other and no water at
+all, but it was frequented by stray Rats and a few Mice of the finest
+quality; these were occasionally secured, and afforded not only a
+palatable meal, but were the cause of her winning a friend.
+
+
+IV
+
+Kitty was now fully grown. She was a striking-looking Cat of the tiger
+type. Her marks were black on a very pale gray, and the four
+beauty-spots of white on nose, ears, and tail-tip lent a certain
+distinction. She was very expert at getting a living, and yet she had
+some days of starvation and failed in her ambition of catching a
+Sparrow. She was quite alone, but a new force was coming into her life.
+
+She was lying in the sun one August day, when a large Black Cat came
+walking along the top of a wall in her direction. She recognized him at
+once by his torn ear. She slunk into her box and hid. He picked his way
+gingerly, bounded lightly to a shed that was at the end of the yard,
+and was crossing the roof when a Yellow Cat rose up. The Black Torn
+glared and growled, so did the Yellow Tom. Their tails lashed from side
+to side. Strong throats growled and yowled. They approached each other
+with ears laid back, with muscles a-tense.
+
+"Yow-yow-ow!" said the Black One.
+
+"Wow-w-w!" was the slightly deeper answer.
+
+"Ya-wow-wow-wow!" said the Black One, edging up half an inch nearer.
+
+"Yow-w-w!" was the Yellow answer, as the blond Cat rose to full height
+and stepped with vast dignity a whole inch forward. "Yow-w!" and he
+went another inch, while his tail went swish, thump, from one side to
+the other.
+
+"Ya-wow-yow-w!" screamed the Black in a rising tone, and he backed the
+eighth of an inch, as he marked the broad, unshrinking breast before
+him.
+
+Windows opened all around, human voices were heard, but the Cat scene
+went on.
+
+"Yow-yow-ow!" rumbled the Yellow Peril, his voice deepening as the
+other's rose.
+
+"Yow!" and he advanced another step.
+
+Now their noses were but three inches apart; they stood sidewise, both
+ready to clinch, but each waiting for the other. They glared for three
+minutes in silence and like statues, except that each tail-tip was
+twisting.
+
+The Yellow began again. "Yow-ow-ow!" in deep tone.
+
+"Ya-a-a--a-a!" screamed the Black, with intent to strike terror by his
+yell; but he retreated one sixteenth of an inch. The Yellow walked up a
+long half-inch; their whiskers were mixing now; another advance, and
+their noses almost touched.
+
+"Yo-w-w!" said Yellow, like a deep moan.
+
+"Y-a-a-a-a-a-a!" screamed the Black, but he retreated a thirty-second
+of an inch, and the Yellow Warrior closed and clinched like a demon.
+
+Oh, how they rolled and bit and tore, especially the Yellow One!
+
+How they pitched and gripped and hugged, but especially the Yellow One!
+
+Over and over, sometimes one on top, sometimes another, but mostly the
+Yellow One; and farther till they rolled off the roof, amid cheers from
+all the windows. They lost not a second in that fall to the junk-yard;
+they tore and clawed all the way down, but especially the Yellow One.
+And when they struck the ground, still fighting, the one on top was
+chiefly the Yellow One; and before they separated both had had as much
+as they wanted, especially the Black One! He scaled a wall and,
+bleeding and growling, disappeared, while the news was passed from
+window to window that Cayley's Nig had been licked at last by Orange
+Billy.
+
+Either the Yellow Cat was a very clever seeker, or else Slum Kitty did
+not hide very hard; but he discovered her among the boxes, and she made
+no attempt to get away, probably because she had witnessed the fight.
+There is nothing like success in warfare to win the female heart, and
+thereafter the Yellow Tom and Kitty became very good friends, not
+sharing each other's lives or food,--Cats do not do that way much,--but
+recognizing each other as entitled to special friendly privileges.
+
+
+V
+
+September had gone. October's shortening days were on when an event
+took place in the old cracker-box. If Orange Billy had come he would
+have seen five little Kittens curled up in the embrace of their mother,
+the little Slum Cat. It was a wonderful thing for her. She felt all the
+elation an animal mother can feel, all the delight, and she loved them
+and licked them with a tenderness that must have been a surprise to
+herself, had she had the power to think of such things.
+
+She had added a joy to her joyless life, but she had also added a care
+and a heavy weight to her heavy load. All her strength was taken now to
+find food. The burden increased as the offspring grew up big enough to
+scramble about the boxes, which they did daily during her absence after
+they were six weeks old. That troubles go in flocks and luck in
+streaks, is well known in Slumland. Kitty had had three encounters with
+Dogs, and had been stoned by Malee's negro during a two days' starve.
+Then the tide turned. The very next morning she found a full milk-can
+without a lid, successfully robbed a barrow pensioner, and found a big
+fish-head, all within two hours. She had just returned with that
+perfect peace which comes only of a full stomach, when she saw a little
+brown creature in her junk-yard. Hunting memories came back in
+strength; she didn't know what it was, but she had killed and eaten
+several Mice, and this was evidently a big Mouse with bob-tail and
+large ears. Kitty stalked it with elaborate but unnecessary caution;
+the little Rabbit simply sat up and looked faintly amused. He did not
+try to run, and Kitty sprang on him and bore him off. As she was not
+hungry, she carried him to the cracker-box and dropped him among the
+Kittens. He was not much hurt. He got over his fright, and since he
+could not get out of the box, he snuggled among the Kittens, and when
+they began to take their evening meal he very soon decided to join
+them. The old Cat was puzzled. The hunter instinct had been dominant,
+but absence of hunger had saved the Rabbit and given the maternal
+instinct a chance to appear. The result was that the Rabbit became a
+member of the family, and was thenceforth guarded and fed with the
+Kittens.
+
+Two weeks went by. The Kittens romped much among the boxes during their
+mother's absence. The Rabbit could not get out of the box. Jap Malee,
+seeing the Kittens about the back yard, told the negro to shoot them.
+This he was doing one morning with a 22-calibre rifle. He had shot one
+after another and seen them drop from sight into the crannies of the
+lumber-pile, when the old Cat came running along the wall from the
+dock, carrying a small Wharf Rat. He had been ready to shoot her, too,
+but the sight of that Rat changed his plans: a rat-catching Cat was
+worthy to live. It happened to be the very first one she had ever
+caught, but it saved her life. She threaded the lumber-maze to the
+cracker-box and was probably puzzled to find that there were no Kittens
+to come at her call, and the Rabbit would not partake of the Rat. Pussy
+curled up to nurse the Rabbit, but she called from time to time to
+summon the Kittens. Guided by that call, the negro crawled quietly to
+the place, and peering down into the cracker-box, saw, to his intense
+surprise, that it contained the old Cat, a live Rabbit, and a dead Rat.
+
+The mother Cat laid back her ears and snarled. The negro withdrew, but
+a minute later a board was dropped on the opening of the cracker-box,
+and the den with its tenants, dead and alive, was lifted into the
+bird-cellar.
+
+"Say, boss, look a-hyar--hyar's where de little Rabbit got to wot we
+lost. Yo' sho t'ought Ah stoled him for de 'tater-bake."
+
+Kitty and Bunny were carefully put in a large wire cage and exhibited
+as a happy family till a few days later, when the Rabbit took sick and
+died.
+
+Pussy had never been happy in the cage. She had enough to eat and
+drink, but she craved her freedom--would likely have gotten 'death or
+liberty' now, but that during the four days' captivity she had so
+cleaned and slicked her fur that her unusual coloring was seen, and Jap
+decided to keep her.
+
+
+
+LIFE II
+
+VI
+
+Jap Malee was as disreputable a little Cockney bantam as ever sold
+cheap Canary-birds in a cellar. He was extremely poor, and the negro
+lived with him because the 'Henglish-man' was willing to share bed and
+board, and otherwise admit a perfect equality that few Americans
+conceded. Jap was perfectly honest according to his lights, but he
+hadn't  any lights; and it was well known that his chief revenue was
+derived from storing and restoring stolen Dogs and Cats. The half-dozen
+Canaries were mere blinds. Yet Jap believed in himself. "Hi tell you,
+Sammy, me boy, you'll see me with 'orses of my own yet," he would say,
+when some trifling success inflated his dirty little chest. He was not
+without ambition, in a weak, flabby, once-in-a-while way, and he
+sometimes wished to be known as a fancier. Indeed, he had once gone the
+wild length of offering a Cat for exhibition at the Knickerbocker High
+Society Cat and Pet Show, with three not over-clear objects: first, to
+gratify his ambition; second, to secure the exhibitor's free pass; and,
+third, "well, you kneow, one 'as to kneow the valuable Cats, you kneow,
+when one goes a-catting." But this was a society show, the exhibitor
+had to be introduced, and his miserable alleged half-Persian was
+scornfully rejected. The 'Lost and Found' columns of the papers were
+the only ones of interest to Jap, but he had noticed and saved a
+clipping about 'breeding for fur.' This was stuck on the wall of his
+den, and under its influence he set about what seemed a cruel
+experiment with the Slum Cat. First, he soaked her dirty fur with stuff
+to kill the two or three kinds of creepers she wore; and, when it had
+done its work, he washed her thoroughly in soap and warm water, in
+spite of her teeth, claws, and yowls. Kitty was savagely indignant, but
+a warm and happy glow spread over her as she dried off in a cage near
+the stove, and her fur began to fluff out with wonderful softness and
+whiteness. Jap and his assistant were much pleased with the result, and
+Kitty ought to have been. But this was preparatory: now for the
+experiment. "Nothing is so good for growing fur as plenty of oily food
+and continued exposure to cold weather," said the clipping. Winter was
+at hand, and Jap Malee put Kitty's cage out in the yard, protected only
+from the rain and the direct wind, and fed her with all the oil-cake
+and fish-heads she could eat. In a week a change began to show. She was
+rapidly getting fat and sleek--she had nothing to do but get fat and
+dress her fur. Her cage was kept clean, and nature responded to the
+chill weather and the oily food by making Kitty's coat thicker and
+glossier every day, so that by midwinter she was an unusually beautiful
+Cat in the fullest and finest of fur, with markings that were at least
+a rarity. Jap was much pleased with the result of the experiment, and
+as a very little success had a wonderful effect on him, he began to
+dream of the paths of glory. Why not send the Slum Cat to the show now
+coming on? The failure of the year before made him more careful as to
+details. "'T won't do, ye kneow, Sammy, to henter 'er as a tramp Cat,
+ye kneow," he observed to his help; "but it kin be arranged to suit the
+Knickerbockers. Nothink like a good noime, ye kneow. Ye see now it had
+orter be 'Royal' somethink or other--nothink goes with the
+Knickerbockers like 'Royal' anythink. Now 'Royal Dick,' or 'Royal Sam,'
+'ow's that? But 'owld on; them's Tom names. Oi say, Sammy, wot's the
+noime of that island where ye wuz born?"
+
+"Analostan Island, sah, was my native vicinity, sah."
+
+"Oi say, now, that's good, ye kneow. 'Royal Analostan,' by Jove! The
+onliest pedigreed 'Royal Analostan' in the 'ole sheow, ye kneow. Ain't
+that foine?" and they mingled their cackles.
+
+"But we'll 'ave to 'ave a pedigree, ye kneow." So a very long fake
+pedigree on the recognized lines was prepared. One dark afternoon Sam,
+in a borrowed silk hat, delivered the Cat and the pedigree at the show
+door. The darkey did the honors. He had been a Sixth Avenue barber, and
+he could put on more pomp and lofty hauteur in five minutes than Jap
+Malee could have displayed in a lifetime, and this, doubtless, was one
+reason for the respectful reception awarded the Royal Analostan at the
+Cat Show.
+
+Jap was very proud to be an exhibitor; but he had all a Cockney's
+reverence for the upper class, and when on the opening day he went to
+the door, he was overpowered to see the array of carriages and silk
+hats. The gate-man looked at him sharply, but passed him on his ticket,
+doubtless taking him for stable-boy to some exhibitor. The hall had
+velvet carpets before the long rows of cages. Jap, in his small
+cunning, was sneaking down the side rows, glancing at the Cats of all
+kinds, noting the blue ribbons and the reds, peering about but not
+daring to ask for his own exhibit, inly trembling to think what the
+gorgeous gathering of fashion would say if they discovered the trick he
+was playing on them. He had passed all around the outer aisles and seen
+many prize-winners, but no sign of Slum Kitty. The inner aisles were
+more crowded. He picked his way down them, but still no Kitty, and he
+decided that it was a mistake; the judges had rejected the Cat later.
+Never mind; he had his exhibitor's ticket, and now knew where several
+valuable Persians and Angoras were to be found.
+
+In the middle of the centre aisle were the high-class Cats. A great
+throng was there. The passage was roped, and two policemen were in
+place to keep the crowd moving. Jap wriggled in among them; he was too
+short to see over, and though the richly gowned folks shrunk from his
+shabby old clothes, he could not get near; but he gathered from the
+remarks that the gem of the show was there.
+
+"Oh, isn't  she a beauty!" said one tall woman.
+
+"What distinction!" was the reply.
+
+"One cannot mistake the air that comes only from ages of the most
+refined surroundings."
+
+"How I should like to own that superb creature!"
+
+"Such dignity--such repose!"
+
+"She has an authentic pedigree nearly back to the Pharaohs, I hear";
+and poor, dirty little Jap marvelled at his own cheek in sending his
+Slum Cat into such company.
+
+"Excuse me, madame." The director of the show now appeared, edging his
+way through the crowd. "The artist of the 'sporting Element' is here,
+under orders to sketch the 'pearl of the show' for immediate use. May I
+ask you to stand a little aside? That's it; thank you.
+
+"Oh, Mr. Director, cannot you persuade him to sell that beautiful
+creature?"
+
+"Hm, I don't know," was the reply. "I understand he is a man of ample
+means and not at all approachable; but I'll try, I'll try, madame. He
+was quite unwilling to exhibit his treasure at all, so I understand
+from his butler. Here, you, keep out of the way," growled the director,
+as the shabby little man eagerly pushed between the artist and the
+blue-blooded Cat. But the disreputable one wanted to know where
+valuable Cats were to be found. He came near enough to get a glimpse of
+the cage, and there read a placard which announced that "The blue
+ribbon and gold medal of the Knickerbocker High Society Cat and Pet
+Show" had been awarded to the "thoroughbred, pedigreed Royal Analostan,
+imported and exhibited by J. Malee, Esq., the well-known fancier. (Not
+for sale.)" Jap caught his breath and stared again. Yes, surely; there,
+high in a gilded cage, on velvet cushions, with four policemen for
+guards, her fur bright black and pale gray, her bluish eyes slightly
+closed, was his Slum Kitty, looking the picture of a Cat bored to death
+with a lot of fuss that she likes as little as she understands it.
+
+
+VII
+
+Jap Malee lingered around that cage, taking in the remarks, for
+hours--drinking a draught of glory such as he had never known in life
+before and rarely glimpsed in his dreams. But he saw that it would be
+wise for him to remain unknown; his "butler" must do all the business.
+
+It was Slum Kitty who made that show a success. Each day her value went
+up in her owner's eyes. He did not know what prices had been given for
+Cats, and thought that he was touching a record pitch when his "butler"
+gave the director authority to sell the Analostan for one hundred
+dollars.
+
+This is how it came about that the Slum Cat found herself transferred
+from the show to a Fifth Avenue mansion. She evinced a most
+unaccountable wildness at first. Her objection to petting, however, was
+explained on the ground of her aristocratic dislike of familiarity. Her
+retreat from the Lap-dog onto the centre of the dinner-table was
+understood to express a deep-rooted though mistaken idea of avoiding a
+defiling touch. Her assaults on a pet Canary were condoned for the
+reason that in her native Orient she had been used to despotic example.
+The patrician way in which she would get the cover off a milk-can was
+especially applauded. Her dislike of her silk-lined basket, and her
+frequent dashes against the plate-glass windows, were easily
+understood: the basket was too plain, and plate-glass was not used in
+her royal home. Her spotting of the carpet evidenced her Eastern modes
+of thought. The failure of her several attempts to catch Sparrows in
+the high-walled back yard was new proof of the royal impotency of her
+bringing up; while her frequent wallowings in the garbage-can were
+understood to be the manifestation of a little pardonable high-born
+eccentricity. She was fed and pampered, shown and praised; but she was
+not happy. Kitty was homesick! She clawed at that blue ribbon round her
+neck till she got it off; she jumped against the plate-glass because
+that seemed the road to outside; she avoided people and Dogs because
+they had always proved hostile and cruel; and she would sit and gaze on
+the roofs and back yards at the other side of the window, wishing she
+could be among them for a change.
+
+But she was strictly watched, was never allowed outside--so that all
+the happy garbage-can moments occurred while these receptacles of joy
+were indoors. One night in March, however, as they were set out a-row
+for the early scavenger, the Royal Analostan saw her chance, slipped
+out of the door, and was lost to view.
+
+Of course there was a grand stir; but Pussy neither knew nor cared
+anything about that--her one thought was to go home. It may have been
+chance that took her back in the direction of Gramercy Grange Hill, but
+she did arrive there after sundry small adventures. And now what? She
+was not at home, and she had cut off her living. She was beginning to
+be hungry, and yet she had a peculiar sense of happiness. She cowered
+in a front garden for some time. A raw east wind had been rising, and
+now it came to her with a particularly friendly message; man would have
+called it an unpleasant smell of the docks, but to Pussy it was welcome
+tidings from home. She trotted down the long Street due east, threading
+the rails of front gardens, stopping like a statue for an instant, or
+crossing the street in search of the darkest side, and came at length
+to the docks and to the water. But the place was strange. She could go
+north or south. Something turned her southward; and, dodging among
+docks and Dogs, carts and Cats, crooked arms of the bay and straight
+board fences, she got, in an hour or two, among familiar scenes and
+smells; and, before the sun came up, she had crawled back--weary and
+foot-sore through the same old hole in the same old fence and over a
+wall to her junk-yard back of the bird-cellar--yes, back into the very
+cracker-box where she was born.
+
+Oh, if the Fifth Avenue family could only have seen her in her native
+Orient!
+
+After a long rest she came quietly down from the cracker-box toward the
+steps leading to the cellar, engaged in her old-time pursuit of seeking
+for eatables. The door opened, and there stood the negro. He shouted to
+the bird-man inside:
+
+"Say, boss, come hyar. Ef dere ain't dat dar Royal Ankalostan am comed
+back!"
+
+Jap came in time to see the Cat jumping the wall. They called loudly
+and in the most seductive, wheedling tones: "Pussy, Pussy, poor Pussy!
+Come, Pussy!" But Pussy was not prepossessed in their favor, and
+disappeared to forage in her old-time haunts.
+
+The Royal Analostan had been a windfall for Jap--had been the means of
+adding many comforts to the cellar and several prisoners to the cages.
+It was now of the utmost importance to recapture her majesty. Stale
+meat-offal and other infallible lures were put out till Pussy, urged by
+the reestablished hunger-pinch, crept up to a large fish-head in a
+box-trap; the negro, in watching, pulled the string that dropped the
+lid, and, a minute later, the Analostan was once more among the
+prisoners in the cellar. Meanwhile Jap had been watching the 'Lost and
+Found' column. There it was, "$25 reward," etc. That night Mr. Malee's
+butler called at the Fifth Avenue mansion with the missing cat. "Mr.
+Malee's compliments, sah. De Royal Analostan had recurred in her recent
+proprietor's vicinity and residence, sah. Mr. Malee had pleasure in
+recuperating the Royal Analostan, sah." Of course Mr. Malee could not
+be rewarded, but the butler was open to any offer, and plainly showed
+that he expected the promised reward and something more.
+
+Kitty was guarded very carefully after that; but so far from being
+disgusted with the old life of starving, and glad of her ease, she
+became wilder and more dissatisfied.
+
+
+VIII
+
+The spring was doing its New York best. The dirty little English
+Sparrows were tumbling over each other in their gutter brawls, Cats
+yowled all night in the areas, and the Fifth Avenue family were
+thinking of their country residence. They packed up, closed house and
+moved off to their summer home, some fifty miles away, and Pussy, in a
+basket, went with them.
+
+"Just what she needed: a change of air and scene to wean her away from
+her former owners and make her happy."
+
+The basket was lifted into a Rumble-shaker. New sounds and passing
+smells were entered and left. A turn in the course was made. Then a
+roaring of many feet, more swinging of the basket; a short pause,
+another change of direction, then some clicks, some bangs, a long
+shrill whistle, and door-bells of a very big front door; a rumbling, a
+whizzing, an unpleasant smell, a hideous smell, a growing horrible,
+hateful choking smell, a deadly, griping, poisonous stench, with
+roaring that drowned poor Kitty's yowls, and just as it neared the
+point where endurance ceased, there was relief. She heard clicks and
+clacks. There was light; there was air. Then a man's voice called, "All
+out for 125th Street," though of course to Kitty it was a mere human
+bellow. The roaring almost ceased--did cease. Later the rackety-bang
+was renewed with plenty of sounds and shakes, though not the poisonous
+gas; a long, hollow, booming roar with a pleasant dock smell was
+quickly passed, and then there was a succession of jolts, roars, jars,
+stops, clicks, clacks, smells, jumps, shakes, more smells, more
+shakes,--big shakes, little shakes,--gases, smokes, screeches,
+door-bells, tremblings, roars, thunders, and some new smells, raps,
+taps, heavings, rumblings, and more smells, but all without any of the
+feel that the direction is changed. When at last it stopped, the sun
+came twinkling through the basket-lid. The Royal Cat was lifted into a
+Rumble-shaker of the old familiar style, and, swerving aside from their
+past course, very soon the noises of its wheels were grittings and
+rattlings; a new and horrible sound was added--the barking of Dogs, big
+and little and dreadfully close. The basket was lifted, and Slum Kitty
+had reached her country home.
+
+Every one was officiously kind. They wanted to please the Royal Cat,
+but somehow none of them did, except, possibly, the big, fat cook that
+Kitty discovered on wandering into the kitchen. This unctuous person
+smelt more like a slum than anything she had met for months, and the
+Royal Analostan was proportionately attracted. The cook, when she
+learned that fears were entertained about the Cat staying, said:
+"Shure, she'd 'tind to thot; wanst a Cat licks her futs, shure she's at
+home." So she deftly caught the unapproachable royalty in her apron,
+and committed the horrible sacrilege of greasing the soles of her feet
+with pot-grease. Of course Kitty resented it--she resented everything
+in the place; but on being set down she began to dress her paws and
+found evident satisfaction in that grease. She licked all four feet for
+an hour, and the cook triumphantly announced that now "shure she'd be
+apt to shtay." And stay she did, but she showed a most surprising and
+disgusting preference for the kitchen, the cook, and the garbage-pail.
+
+The family, though distressed by these distinguished peculiarities,
+were glad to see the Royal Analostan more contented and approachable.
+They gave her more liberty after a week or two. They guarded her from
+every menace. The Dogs were taught to respect her. No man or boy about
+the place would have dreamed of throwing a stone at the famous
+pedigreed Cat. She had all the food she wanted, but still she was not
+happy. She was hankering for many things, she scarcely knew what. She
+had everything--yes, but she wanted something else. Plenty to eat and
+drink--yes, but milk does not taste the same when you can go and drink
+all you want from a saucer; it has to be stolen out of a tin pail when
+you are belly-pinched with hunger and thirst, or it does not have the
+tang--it isn't milk.
+
+Yes, there was a junk-yard back of the house and beside it and around
+it too, a big one, but it was everywhere poisoned and polluted with
+roses. The very Horses and Dogs had the wrong smells; the whole country
+round was a repellent desert of lifeless, disgusting gardens and
+hay-fields, without a single tenement or smoke-stack in sight. How she
+did hate it all! There was only one sweet-smelling shrub in the whole
+horrible place, and that was in a neglected corner. She did enjoy
+nipping that and rolling in the leaves; it was a bright spot in the
+grounds; but the only one, for she had not found a rotten fish-head nor
+seen a genuine garbage-can since she came, and altogether it was the
+most unlovely, unattractive, unsmellable spot she had ever known. She
+would surely have gone that first night had she had the liberty. The
+liberty was weeks in coming, and, meanwhile, her affinity with the cook
+had developed as a bond to keep her; but one day after a summer of
+discontent a succession of things happened to stir anew the slum
+instinct of the royal prisoner.
+
+A great bundle of stuff from the docks had reached the country mansion.
+What it contained was of little moment, but it was rich with a score of
+the most piquant and winsome of dock and slum smells. The chords of
+memory surely dwell in the nose, and Pussy's past was conjured up with
+dangerous force. Next day the cook 'left' through some trouble over
+this very bundle. It was the cutting of cables, and that evening the
+youngest boy of the house, a horrid little American with no proper
+appreciation of royalty, was tying a tin to the blue-blooded one's
+tail, doubtless in furtherance of some altruistic project, when Pussy
+resented the liberty with a paw that wore five big fish-hooks for the
+occasion. The howl of downtrodden America roused America's mother. The
+deft and womanly blow that she aimed with her book was miraculously
+avoided, and Pussy took flight, up-stairs, of course. A hunted Rat runs
+down-stairs, a hunted Dog goes on the level, a hunted Cat runs up. She
+hid in the garret, baffled discovery, and waited till night came. Then,
+gliding down-stairs, she tried each screen-door in turn, till she found
+one unlatched, and escaped into the black August night. Pitch-black to
+man's eyes, it was simply gray to her, and she glided through the
+disgusting shrubbery and flower-beds, took a final nip at that one
+little bush that had been an attractive spot in the garden, and boldly
+took her back track of the spring.
+
+How could she take a back track that she never saw? There is in all
+animals some sense of direction. It is very low in man and very high in
+Horses, but Cats have a large gift, and this mysterious guide took her
+westward, not clearly and definitely, but with a general impulse that
+was made definite simply because the road was easy to travel. In an
+hour she had covered two miles and reached the Hudson River. Her nose
+had told her many times that the course was true. Smell after smell
+came back, just as a man after walking a mile in a strange street may
+not recall a single feature, but will remember, on seeing it again,
+"Why, yes, I saw that before." So Kitty's main guide was the sense of
+direction, but it was her nose that kept reassuring her, "Yes, now you
+are right--we passed this place last spring."
+
+At the river was the railroad. She could not go on the water; she must
+go north or south. This was a case where her sense of direction was
+clear; it said, "Go south," and Kitty trotted down the foot-path
+between the iron rails and the fence.
+
+
+
+
+LIFE III
+
+IX
+
+Cats can go very fast up a tree or over a wall, but when it comes to
+the long steady trot that reels off mile after mile, hour after hour,
+it is not the cat-hop, but the dog-trot, that counts. Although the
+travelling was good and the path direct, an hour had gone before two
+more miles were put between her and the Hades of roses. She was tired
+and a little foot-sore. She was thinking of rest when a Dog came
+running to the fence near by, and broke out into such a horrible
+barking close to her ear that Pussy leaped in terror. She ran as hard
+as she could down the path, at the same time watching to see if the Dog
+should succeed in passing the fence. No, not yet! but he ran close by
+it, growling horribly, while Pussy skipped along on the safe side. The
+barking of the Dog grew into a low rumble--a louder rumble and
+roaring--a terrifying thunder. A light shone. Kitty glanced back to
+see, not the Dog, but a huge Black Thing with a blazing red eye coming
+on, yowling and spitting like a yard full of Cats. She put forth all
+her powers to run, made such time as she had never made before, but
+dared not leap the fence. She was running like a Dog, was flying, but
+all in vain; the monstrous pursuer overtook her, but missed her in the
+darkness, and hurried past to be lost in the night, while Kitty
+crouched gasping for breath, half a mile nearer home since that Dog
+began to bark.
+
+This was her first encounter with the strange monster, strange to her
+eyes only; her nose seemed to know him and told her this was another
+landmark on the home trail. But Pussy lost much of her fear of his
+kind. She learned that they were very stupid and could not find her if
+she slipped quietly under a fence and lay still. Before morning she had
+encountered several of them, but escaped unharmed from all.
+
+About sunrise she reached a nice little slum on her home trail, and was
+lucky enough to find several unsterilized eatables in an ash-heap. She
+spent the day around a stable where were two Dogs and a number of small
+boys, that between them came near ending her career. It was so very
+like home; but she had no idea of staying there. She was driven by the
+old craving, and next evening set out as before. She had seen the
+one-eyed Thunder-rollers all day going by, and was getting used to
+them, so travelled steadily all that night. The next day was spent in a
+barn where she caught a Mouse, and the next night was like the last,
+except that a Dog she encountered drove her backward on her trail for a
+long way. Several times she was misled by angling roads, and wandered
+far astray, but in time she wandered back again to her general
+southward course. The days were passed in skulking under barns and
+hiding from Dogs and small boys, and the nights in limping along the
+track, for she was getting foot-sore; but on she went, mile after mile,
+southward, ever southward--Dogs, boys, Roarers, hunger--Dogs, boys,
+Roarers, hunger--yet on and onward still she went, and her nose from
+time to time cheered her by confidently reporting, "There surely is a
+smell we passed last spring."
+
+
+X
+
+So a week went by, and Pussy, dirty, ribbon-less, foot-sore, and weary,
+arrived at the Harlem Bridge. Though it was enveloped in delicious
+smells, she did not like the look of that bridge. For half the night
+she wandered up and down the shore without discovering any other means
+of going south, excepting some other bridges, or anything of interest
+except that here the men were as dangerous as the boys. Somehow she had
+to come back to it; not only its smells were familiar, but from time to
+time, when a One-eye ran over it, there was that peculiar rumbling roar
+that was a sensation in the springtime trip. The calm of the late night
+was abroad when she leaped to the timber stringer and glided out over
+the water. She had got less than a third of the way across when a
+thundering One-eye came roaring at her from the opposite end. She was
+much frightened, but knowing their stupidity and blindness, she dropped
+to a low side beam and there crouched in hiding. Of course the stupid
+Monster missed her and passed on, and all would have been well, but it
+turned back, or another just like it came suddenly spitting behind her.
+Pussy leaped to the long track and made for the home shore. She might
+have got there had not a third of the Red-eyed Terrors come screeching
+at her from that side. She was running her hardest, but was caught
+between two foes. There was nothing for it but a desperate leap from
+the timbers into-she didn't know what. Down, down, down-plop, splash,
+plunge into the deep water, not cold, for it was August, but oh, so
+horrible! She spluttered and coughed when she came to the top, glanced
+around to see if the Monsters were swimming after her, and struck out
+for shore. She had never learned to swim, and yet she swam, for the
+simple reason that a Cat's position and actions in swimming are the
+same as her position and actions in walking. She had fallen into a
+place she did not like; naturally she tried to walk out, and the result
+was that she swam ashore. Which shore? The home-love never fails: the
+south side was the only shore for her, the one nearest home. She
+scrambled out all dripping wet, up the muddy bank and through
+coal-piles and dust-heaps, looking as black, dirty, and unroyal as it
+was possible for a Cat to look.
+
+Once the shock was over, the Royal-pedigreed Slummer began to feel
+better for the plunge. A genial glow without from the bath, a genial
+sense of triumph within, for had she not outwitted three of the big
+Terrors?
+
+Her nose, her memory, and her instinct of direction inclined her to get
+on the track again; but the place was infested with those
+Thunder-rollers, and prudence led her to turn aside and follow the
+river-bank with its musky home-reminders; and thus she was spared the
+unspeakable horrors of the tunnel.
+
+She was over three days learning the manifold dangers and complexities
+of the East River docks. Once she got by mistake on a ferryboat and was
+carried over to Long Island; but she took an early boat back. At length
+on the third night she reached familiar ground, the place she had
+passed the night of her first escape. From that her course was sure and
+rapid. She knew just where she was going and how to get there. She knew
+even the more prominent features in the Dog-scape now. She went faster,
+felt happier. In a little while surely she would be curled up in her
+native Orient--the old junk-yard. Another turn, and the block was in
+sight.
+
+But--what! It was gone! Kitty couldn't believe her eyes; but she must,
+for the sun was not yet up. There where once had stood or leaned or
+slouched or straggled the houses of the block, was a great broken
+wilderness of stone, lumber, and holes in the ground.
+
+Kitty walked all around it. She knew by the bearings and by the local
+color of the pavement that she was in her home, that there had lived
+the bird-man, and there was the old junk-yard; but all were gone,
+completely gone, taking their familiar odors with them, and Pussy
+turned sick at heart in the utter hopelessness of the case. Her
+place-love was her master-mood. She had given up all to come to a home
+that no longer existed, and for once her sturdy little heart was cast
+down. She wandered over the silent heaps of rubbish and found neither
+consolation nor eatables. The ruin had taken in several of the blocks
+and reached back from the water. It was not a fire; Kitty had seen one
+of those things. This looked more like the work of a flock of the
+Red-eyed Monsters. Pussy knew nothing of the great bridge that was to
+rise from this very spot.
+
+When the sun came up she sought for cover. An adjoining block still
+stood with little change, and the Royal Analostan retired to that. She
+knew some of its trails; but once there, was unpleasantly surprised to
+find the place swarming with Cats that, like herself, were driven from
+their old grounds, and when the garbage-cans came out there were
+several Slummers at each. It meant a famine in the land, and Pussy,
+after standing it a few days, was reduced to seeking her other home on
+Fifth Avenue. She got there to find it shut up and deserted. She waited
+about for a day; had an unpleasant experience with a big man in a blue
+coat, and next night returned to the crowded slum.
+
+September and October wore away. Many of the Cats died of starvation or
+were too weak to escape their natural enemies. But Kitty, young and
+strong, still lived.
+
+Great changes had come over the ruined blocks. Though silent on the
+night when she first saw them, they were crowded with noisy workmen all
+day. A tall building, well advanced on her arrival, was completed at
+the end of October, and Slum Kitty, driven by hunger, went sneaking up
+to a pail that a negro had set outside. The pail, unfortunately, was
+not for garbage; it was a new thing in that region: a scrubbing-pail. A
+sad disappointment, but it had a sense of comfort--there were traces of
+a familiar touch on the handle. While she was studying it, the negro
+elevator-boy came out again. In spite of his blue clothes, his odorous
+person confirmed the good impression of the handle. Kitty had retreated
+across the street. He gazed at her.
+
+"Sho ef dat don't look like de Royal Ankalostan! Hyar, Pussy, Pussy,
+Pu-s-s-s-s-y! Co-o-o-o-m-e, Pu-u-s-s-sy, hyar! I 'spec's she's sho
+hungry."
+
+Hungry! She hadn't  had a real meal for months. The negro went into the
+building and reappeared with a portion of his own lunch.
+
+"Hyar, Pussy, Puss, Puss, Puss!" It seemed very good, but Pussy had her
+doubts of the man. At length he laid the meat on the pavement, and went
+back to the door. Slum Kitty came forward very warily; sniffed at the
+meat, seized it, and fled like a little Tigress to eat her prize in
+peace.
+
+
+
+
+LIFE IV
+
+XI
+
+This was the beginning of a new era. Pussy came to the door of the
+building now whenever pinched by hunger, and the good feeling for the
+negro grew. She had never understood that man before. He had always
+seemed hostile. Now he was her friend, the only one she had.
+
+One week she had a streak of luck. Seven good meals on seven successive
+days; and right on the top of the last meal she found a juicy dead Rat,
+the genuine thing, a perfect windfall. She had never killed a
+full-grown Rat in all her lives, but seized the prize and ran off to
+hide it for future use. She was crossing the street in front of the new
+building when an old enemy appeared,--the Wharf Dog,--and Kitty
+retreated, naturally enough, to the door where she had a friend. Just
+as she neared it, he opened the door for a well-dressed man to come
+out, and both saw the Cat with her prize.
+
+"Hello! Look at that for a Cat!"
+
+"Yes, sah," answered the negro. "Dat's ma Cat, sah; she's a terror on
+Rats, sah! hez 'em about cleaned up, sah; dat's why she's so thin."
+
+"Well, don't let her starve," said the man with the air of the
+landlord. "Can't you feed her?
+
+"De liver meat-man comes reg'lar, sah; quatah dollar a week, sah," said
+the negro, fully realizing that he was entitled to the extra fifteen
+cents for "the idea."
+
+"That's all right. I'll stand it."
+
+
+XII
+
+"M-e-a-t! M-e-a-t!" is heard the magnetic, cat-conjuring cry of the old
+liver-man, as his barrow is pushed up the glorified Scrimper's Alley,
+and Cats come crowding, as of yore, to receive their due.
+
+There are Cats black, white, yellow, and gray to be remembered, and,
+above all, there are owners to be remembered. As the barrow rounds the
+corner near the new building it makes a newly scheduled stop.
+
+"Hyar, you, get out o' the road, you common trash," cries the
+liver-man, and he waves his wand to make way for the little gray Cat
+with blue eyes and white nose. She receives an unusually large portion,
+for Sam is wisely dividing the returns evenly; and Slum Kitty retreats
+with her 'daily' into shelter of the great building, to which she is
+regularly attached. She has entered into her fourth life with prospects
+of happiness never before dreamed of. Everything was against her at
+first; now everything seems to be coming her way. It is very doubtful
+that her mind was broadened by travel, but she knew what she wanted and
+she got it. She has achieved her long-time great ambition by catching,
+not a Sparrow, but two of them, while they were clinched in mortal
+combat in the gutter.
+
+There is no reason to suppose that she ever caught another Rat; but the
+negro secures a dead one when he can, for purposes of exhibition, lest
+her pension be imperilled. The dead one is left in the hall till the
+proprietor comes; then it is apologetically swept away. "Well, drat dat
+Cat, sah; dat Royal Ankalostan blood, sah, is terrors on Rats."
+
+She has had several broods since. The negro thinks the Yellow Tom is
+the father of some of them, and no doubt the negro is right.
+
+He has sold her a number of times with a perfectly clear conscience,
+knowing quite well that it is only a question of a few days before the
+Royal Analostan comes back again. Doubtless he is saving the money for
+some honorable ambition. She has learned to tolerate the elevator, and
+even to ride up and down on it. The negro stoutly maintains that once,
+when she heard the meat-man, while she was on the top floor, she
+managed to press the button that called the elevator to take her down.
+
+She is sleek and beautiful again. She is not only one of the four
+hundred that form the inner circle about the liver-barrow, but she is
+recognized as the star pensioner among them. The liver-man is
+positively respectful. Not even the cream-and-chicken fed Cat of the
+pawn-broker's wife has such a position as the Royal Analostan. But in
+spite of her prosperity, her social position, her royal name and fake
+pedigree, the greatest pleasure of her life is to slip out and go
+a-slumming in the gloaming, for now, as in her previous lives, she is
+at heart, and likely to be, nothing but a dirty little Slum Cat.
+
+
+
+
+ARNAUX
+
+THE CHRONICLE OF A HOMING PIGEON
+
+We passed through the side door of a big stable on West Nineteenth
+Street. The mild smell of the well-kept stalls was lost in the sweet
+odor of hay, as we mounted a ladder and entered the long garret. The
+south end was walled off, and the familiar "Coo-oo, cooooo-oo,
+ruk-at-a-coo," varied with the "whirr, whirr, whirr" of wings, informed
+us that we were at the  pigeon-loft.
+
+This was the home of a famous lot of birds, and to-day there was to be
+a race among fifty of the youngsters. The owner of the loft had asked
+me, as an unprejudiced outsider, to be judge in the contest.
+
+It was a training race of the young birds. They had been taken out for
+short distances with their parents once or twice, then set free to
+return to the loft. Now for the first time they were to be flown
+without the old ones. The point of start, Elizabeth, N. J., was a long
+journey for their first unaided attempt. "But then," the trainer
+remarked, "that's how we weed out the fools; only the best birds make
+it, and that's all we want back."
+
+There was another side to the flight. It was to be a race among those
+that did return. Each of the men about the loft as well as several
+neighboring fanciers were interested in one or other of the Homers.
+They made up a purse for the winner, and on me was to devolve the
+important duty of deciding which should take the stakes. Not the first
+bird back, but the first bird into the loft, was to win, for one that
+returns to his neighborhood merely, without immediately reporting at
+home, is of little use as a letter-carrier.
+
+The Homing Pigeon used to be called the Carrier because it carried
+messages, but here I found that name restricted to the show bird, the
+creature with absurdly developed wattles; the one that carries the
+messages is now called the Homer, or Homing Pigeon--the bird that
+always comes home. These Pigeons are not of any special color, nor have
+they any of the fancy adornments of the kind that figure in Bird shows.
+They are not bred for style, but for speed and for their mental gifts.
+They must be true to their home, able to return to it without fail. The
+sense of direction is now believed to be located in the bony labyrinth
+of the ear. There is no creature with finer sense of locality and
+direction than a good Homer, and the only visible proofs of it are the
+great bulge on each side of the head over the ears, and the superb
+wings that complete his equipment to obey the noble impulse of
+home-love. Now the mental and physical equipments of the last lot of
+young birds were to be put to test.
+
+Although there were plenty of witnesses, I thought it best to close all
+but one of the pigeon-doors and stand ready to shut that behind the
+first arrival.
+
+I shall never forget the sensations of that day. I had been warned:
+"They start at 12; they should be here at 12:30; but look out, they
+come like a whirlwind. You hardly see them till they're in."
+
+We were ranged along the inside of the loft, each with an eye to a
+crack or a partly closed pigeon-door, anxiously scanning the
+southwestern horizon, when one shouted: "Look out--here they come!"
+Like a white cloud they burst into view, low skimming over the city
+roofs, around a great chimney pile, and in two seconds after first
+being seen they were back. The flash of white, the rush of pinions,
+were all so sudden, so short, that, though preparing, I was unprepared.
+I was at the only open door. A whistling arrow of blue shot in, lashed
+my face with its pinions, and passed. I had hardly time to drop the
+little door, as a yell burst from the men, "Arnaux! Arnaux! I told you
+he would. Oh, he's a darling; only three months old and a winner--he's
+a little darling!" and Arnaux's owner danced, more for joy in his bird
+than in the purse he had won.
+
+The men sat or kneeled and watched him in positive reverence as he
+gulped a quantity of water, then turned to the food-trough.
+
+"Look at that eye, those wings, and did you ever see such a breast? Oh,
+but he's the real grit!" so his owner prattled to the silent ones whose
+birds had been defeated.
+
+That was the first of Arnaux's exploits. Best of fifty birds from a
+good loft, his future was bright with promise.
+
+He was invested with the silver anklet of the Sacred Order of the High
+Homer. It bore his number, 2590 C, a number which to-day means much to
+all men in the world of the Homing Pigeon.
+
+In that trial flight from Elizabeth only forty birds had returned. It
+is usually so. Some were weak and got left behind, some were foolish
+and strayed. By this simple process of flight selection the
+pigeon-owners keep improving their stock. Of the ten, five were seen no
+more, but five returned later that day, not all at once, but straggling
+in; the last of the loiterers was a big, lubberly Blue Pigeon. The man
+in the loft at the time called: "Here comes that old sap-headed Blue
+that Jakey was betting on. I didn't suppose he would come back, and I
+didn't care, neither, for it's my belief he has a streak of Pouter."
+
+The Big Blue, also called "Corner-box" from the nest where he was
+hatched, had shown remarkable vigor from the first. Though all were
+about the same age, he had grown faster, was bigger, and incidentally
+handsomer, though the fanciers cared little for that. He seemed fully
+aware of his importance, and early showed a disposition to bully his
+smaller cousins. His owner prophesied great things of him, but Billy,
+the stable-man, had grave doubts over the length of his neck, the
+bigness of his crop, his carriage, and his over-size. "A bird can't
+make time pushing a bag of wind ahead of him. Them long legs is dead
+weight, an' a neck like that ain't got no gimp in it," Billy would
+grunt disparagingly as he cleaned out the loft of a morning.
+
+
+II
+
+The training of the birds went on after this at regular times. The
+distance from home, of the start, was "jumped" twenty-five or thirty
+miles farther each day, and its direction changed till the Homers knew
+the country for one hundred and fifty miles around New York. The
+original fifty birds dwindled to twenty, for the rigid process weeds
+out not only the weak and ill-equipped, but those also who may have
+temporary ailments or accidents, or who may make the mistake of
+over-eating at the start. There were many fine birds in that flight,
+broad-breasted, bright-eyed, long-winged creatures, formed for swiftest
+flight, for high unconscious emprise, for these were destined to be
+messengers in the service of man in times of serious need. Their colors
+were mostly white, blue, or brown. They wore no uniform, but each and
+all of the chosen remnant had the brilliant eye and the bulging ears of
+the finest Homer blood; and, best and choicest of all, nearly always
+first among them was little Arnaux. He had not much to distinguish him
+when at rest, for now all of the band had the silver anklet, but in the
+air it was that Arnaux showed his make, and when the opening of the
+hamper gave the order "Start," it was Arnaux that first got under way,
+soared to the height deemed needful to exclude all local influence,
+divined the road to home, and took it, pausing not for food, drink, or
+company.
+
+Notwithstanding Billy's evil forecasts, the Big Blue of the Corner-box
+was one of the chosen twenty. Often he was late in returning; he never
+was first, and sometimes when he came back hours behind the rest, it
+was plain that he was neither hungry nor thirsty, sure signs that he
+was a loiterer by the way. Still he had come back; and now he wore on
+his ankle, like the rest, the sacred badge and a number from the roll
+of possible fame. Billy despised him, set him in poor contrast with
+Arnaux, but his owner would reply: "Give him a chance;'soon ripe, soon
+rotten,' an' I always notice the best bird is the slowest to show up at
+first."
+
+Before a year little Arnaux had made a record. The hardest of all work
+is over the sea, for there is no chance of aid from landmarks; and the
+hardest of all times at sea is in fog, for then even the sun is blotted
+out and there is nothing whatever for guidance. With memory, sight, and
+hearing unavailable, the Homer has one thing left, and herein is his
+great strength, the inborn sense of direction. There is only one thing
+that can destroy this, and that is fear, hence the necessity of a stout
+little heart between those noble wings.
+
+Arnaux, with two of his order, in course of training, had been shipped
+on an ocean steamer bound for Europe. They were to be released out of
+sight of land, but a heavy fog set in and forbade the start. The
+steamer took them onward, the intention being to send them back with
+the next vessel. When ten hours out the engine broke down, the fog
+settled dense over the sea, and the vessel was adrift and helpless as a
+log. She could only whistle for assistance, and so far as results were
+concerned, the captain might as well have wigwagged. Then the Pigeons
+were thought of. Starback, 2592 C, was first selected. A message for
+help was written on waterproof paper, rolled up, and lashed to his
+tail-feathers on the under side. He was thrown into the air and
+disappeared. Half an hour later, a second, the Big Blue Corner-box,
+2600 C, was freighted with a letter. He flew up, but almost immediately
+returned and alighted on the rigging. He was a picture of pigeon fear;
+nothing could induce him to leave the ship. He was so terrorized that
+he was easily caught and ignominiously thrust back into the coop.
+
+Now the third was brought out, a small, chunky bird. The shipmen did
+not know him, but they noted down from his anklet his name and number,
+Arnaux, 2590 C. It meant nothing to them. But the officer who held him
+noted that his heart did not beat so wildly as that of the last bird.
+The message was taken from the Big Blue. It ran:
+
+
+10 A.M., Tuesday.
+
+We broke our shaft two hundred and ten miles out from New York; we are
+drifting helplessly in the fog. Send out a tug as soon as possible. We
+are whistling one long, followed at once by one short, every sixty
+seconds.
+
+(Signed)  THE CAPTAIN.
+
+
+This was rolled up, wrapped in waterproof film, addressed to the
+Steamship Company, and lashed to the under side of Arnaux's middle
+tail-feather.
+
+When thrown into the air, he circled round the ship, then round again
+higher, then again higher in a wider circle, and he was lost to view;
+and still higher till quite out of sight and feeling of the ship. Shut
+out from the use of all his senses now but one, he gave himself up to
+that. Strong in him it was, and untrammelled of that murderous despot
+Fear. True as a needle to the Pole went Arnaux now, no hesitation, no
+doubts; within one minute of leaving the coop he was speeding straight
+as a ray of light for the loft where he was born, the only place on
+earth where he could be made content.
+
+That afternoon Billy was on duty when the whistle of fast wings was
+heard; a blue Flyer flashed into the loft and made for the
+water-trough. He was gulping down mouthful after mouthful, when Billy
+gasped: "Why, Arnaux, it's you, you beauty." Then, with the quick habit
+of the pigeon-man, he pulled out his watch and marked the time, 2:40
+P.M. A glance showed the tie string on the tail. He shut the door and
+dropped the catching-net quickly over Arnaux's head. A moment later he
+had the roll in his hand; in two minutes he was speeding to the office
+of the Company, for there was a fat tip in view. There he learned that
+Arnaux had made the two hundred and ten miles in fog, over sea, in four
+hours and forty minutes, and within one hour the needful help had set
+out for the unfortunate steamer.
+
+Two hundred and ten miles in fog over sea in four hours and forty
+minutes! This was a noble record. It was duly inscribed in the rolls of
+the Homing Club. Arnaux was held while the secretary, with rubber stamp
+and indelible ink, printed on a snowy primary of his right wing the
+record of the feat, with the date and reference number.
+
+Starback, the second bird, never was heard of again. No doubt he
+perished at sea.
+
+Blue Corner-box came back on the tug.
+
+
+III
+
+That was Arnaux's first public record; but others came fast, and
+several curious scenes were enacted in that old pigeon-loft with Arnaux
+as the central figure. One day a carriage drove up to the stable; a
+white-haired gentleman got out, climbed the dusty stairs, and sat all
+morning in the loft with Billy. Peering from his gold-rimmed glasses,
+first at a lot of papers, next across the roofs of the city, waiting,
+watching, for what? News from a little place not forty miles away--news
+of greatest weight to him, tidings that would make or break him,
+tidings that must reach him before it could be telegraphed: a telegram
+meant at least an hour's delay at each end. What was faster than that
+for forty miles? In those days there was but one thing--a high-class
+Homer. Money would count for nothing if he could win. The best, the
+very best at any price he must have, and Arnaux, with seven indelible
+records on his pinions, was the chosen messenger. An hour went by,
+another, and a third was begun, when with whistle of wings, the blue
+meteor flashed into the loft. Billy slammed the door and caught him.
+Deftly he snipped the threads and handed the roll to the banker. The
+old man turned deathly pale, fumbled it open, then his color came back.
+"Thank God!" he gasped, and then went speeding to his Board meeting,
+master of the situation. Little Arnaux had saved him.
+
+The banker wanted to buy the Homer, feeling in a vague way that he
+ought to honor and cherish him; but Billy was very clear about it.
+"What's the good? You can't buy a Homer's heart. You could keep him a
+prisoner, that's all; but nothing on earth could make him forsake the
+old loft where he was hatched." So Arnaux stayed at 211 West Nineteenth
+Street. But the banker did not forget.
+
+There is in our country a class of miscreants who think a flying Pigeon
+is fair game, because it is probably far from home, or they shoot him
+because it is hard to fix the crime. Many a noble Homer, speeding with
+a life or death message, has been shot down by one of these wretches
+and remorselessly made into a pot-pie. Arnaux's brother Arnolf, with
+three fine records on his wings, was thus murdered in the act of
+bearing a hasty summons for the doctor. As he fell dying at the
+gunner's feet, his superb wings spread out displayed his list of
+victories. The silver badge on his leg was there, and the gunner was
+smitten with remorse. He had the message sent on; he returned the dead
+bird to the Homing Club, saying that he "found it." The owner came to
+see him; the gunner broke down under cross-examination, and was forced
+to admit that he himself had shot the Homer, but did so in behalf of a
+poor sick neighbor who craved a pigeon-pie.
+
+There were tears in the wrath of the pigeon-man. "My bird, my beautiful
+Arnolf, twenty times has he brought vital messages, three times has he
+made records, twice has he saved human lives, and you'd shoot him for a
+pot-pie. I could punish you under the law, but I have no heart for such
+a poor revenge. I only ask you this, if ever again you have a sick
+neighbor who wants a pigeon-pie, come, we'll freely supply him with
+pie-breed squabs; but if you have a trace of manhood about you, you
+will never, never again shoot, or allow others to shoot, our noble and
+priceless messengers."
+
+This took place while the banker was in touch with the loft, while his
+heart was warm for the Pigeons. He was a man of influence, and the
+Pigeon Protective legislation at Albany was the immediate fruit of
+Arnaux's exploit.
+
+
+IV
+
+Billy had never liked the Corner-box Blue (2600 C); notwithstanding the
+fact that he still continued in the ranks of the Silver Badge, Billy
+believed he was poor stuff. The steamer incident seemed to prove him
+coward; he certainly was a bully.
+
+One morning when Billy went in there was a row, two Pigeons, a large
+and a small, alternately clinching and sparring all over the floor,
+feathers flying, dust and commotion everywhere. As soon as they were
+separated Billy found that the little one was Arnaux and the big one
+was the Corner-box Blue. Arnaux had made a good fight, but was
+overmatched, for the Big Blue was half as heavy again.
+
+Soon it was very clear what they had fought over--a pretty little lady
+Pigeon of the bluest Homing blood. The Big Blue cock had kept up a
+state of bad feeling by his bullying, but it was the Little Lady that
+had made them close in mortal combat. Billy had no authority to wring
+the Big Blue's neck, but he interfered as far as he could in behalf of
+his favorite Arnaux.
+
+Pigeon marriages are arranged somewhat like those of mankind.
+Propinquity is the first thing: force the pair together for a time and
+let nature take its course. So Billy locked Arnaux and the Little Lady
+up together in a separate apartment for two weeks, and to make doubly
+sure he locked Big Blue up with an Available Lady in another apartment
+for two weeks.
+
+Things turned out just as was expected. The Little Lady surrendered to
+Arnaux and the Available Lady to the Big Blue. Two nests were begun and
+everything shaped for a "lived happily ever after." But the Big Blue
+was very big and handsome. He could blow out his crop and strut in the
+sun and make rainbows all round his neck in a way that might turn the
+heart of the staidest Homerine.
+
+Arnaux, though sturdily built, was small and except for his brilliant
+eyes, not especially good-looking. Moreover, he was often away on
+important business, and the Big Blue had nothing to do but stay around
+the loft and display his unlettered wings.
+
+It is the custom of moralists to point to the lower animals, and
+especially to the Pigeon, for examples of love and constancy, and
+properly so, but, alas there are exceptions. Vice is not by any means
+limited to the human race.
+
+Arnaux's wife had been deeply impressed with the Big Blue, at the
+outset, and at length while her spouse was absent the dreadful thing
+took place.
+
+Arnaux returned from Boston one day to find that the Big Blue, while he
+retained his own Available Lady in the corner-box, had also annexed the
+box and wife that belonged to himself, and a desperate battle followed.
+The only spectators were the two wives, but they maintained an
+indifferent aloofness. Arnaux fought with his famous wings, but they
+were none the better weapons because they now bore twenty records. His
+beak and feet were small, as became his blood, and his stout little
+heart could not make up for his lack of weight. The battle went against
+him. His wife sat unconcernedly in the nest, as though it were not her
+affair, and Arnaux might have been killed but for the timely arrival of
+Billy. He was angry enough to wring the Blue bird's neck, but the bully
+escaped from the loft in time. Billy took tender care of Arnaux for a
+few days. At the end of a week he was well again, and in ten days he
+was once more on the road. Meanwhile he had evidently forgiven his
+faithless wife, for, without any apparent feeling, he took up his
+nesting as before. That month he made two new records. He brought a
+message ten miles in eight minutes, and he came from Boston in four
+hours. Every moment of the way he had been impelled by the
+master-passion of home-love. But it was a poor home-coming if his wife
+figured at all in his thoughts, for he found her again flirting with
+the Big Blue cock. Tired as he was, the duel was renewed, and again
+would have been to a finish but for Billy's interference. He separated
+the fighters, then shut the Blue cock up in a coop, determined to get
+rid of him in some way. Meanwhile the "Any Age Sweepstakes" handicap
+from Chicago to New York was on, a race of nine hundred miles. Arnaux
+had been entered six months before. His forfeit-money was up, and
+notwithstanding his domestic complications, his friends felt that he
+must not fail to appear.
+
+The birds were sent by train to Chicago, to be liberated at intervals
+there according to their handicap, and last of the start was Arnaux.
+They lost no time, and outside of Chicago several of these prime Flyers
+joined by common impulse into a racing flock that went through air on
+the same invisible track. A Homer may make a straight line when
+following his general sense of direction, but when following a familiar
+back track he sticks to the well-remembered landmarks. Most of the
+birds had been trained by way of Columbus and Buffalo. Arnaux knew the
+Columbus route, but also he knew that by Detroit, and after leaving
+Lake Michigan, he took the straight line for Detroit. Thus he caught up
+on his handicap and had the advantage of many miles. Detroit, Buffalo,
+Rochester, with their familiar towers and chimneys, faded behind him,
+and Syracuse was near at hand. It was now late afternoon; six hundred
+miles in twelve hours he had flown and was undoubtedly leading the
+race; but the usual thirst of the Flyer had attacked him. Skimming over
+the city roofs, he saw a loft of Pigeons, and descending from his high
+course in two or three great circles, he followed the ingoing Birds to
+the loft and drank greedily at the water-trough, as he had often done
+before, and as every pigeon-lover hospitably expects the messengers to
+do. The owner of the loft was there and noted the strange Bird. He
+stepped quietly to where he could inspect him. One of his own Pigeons
+made momentary opposition to the stranger, and Arnaux, sparring
+sidewise with an open wing in Pigeon style, displayed the long array of
+printed records. The man was a fancier. His interest was aroused; he
+pulled the string that shut the flying door, and in a few minutes
+Arnaux was his prisoner.
+
+The robber spread the much-inscribed wings, read record after record,
+and glancing at the silver badge--it should have been gold--he read his
+name--Arnaux; then exclaimed: "Arnaux! Arnaux! Oh, I've heard of you,
+you little beauty, and it's glad I am to trap you." He snipped the
+message from his tail, unrolled it, and read: "Arnaux left Chicago this
+morning at 4 A.M., scratched in the Any Age Sweepstakes for New York."
+
+"Six hundred miles in twelve hours! By the powers, that's a
+record-breaker." And the pigeon-stealer gently, almost reverently, put
+the fluttering Bird safely into a padded cage. "Well," he added, "I
+know it's no use trying to make you stay, but I can breed from you and
+have some of your strain."
+
+So Arnaux was shut up in a large and comfortable loft with several
+other prisoners. The man, though a thief, was a lover of Homers; he
+gave his captive everything that could insure his comfort and safety.
+For three months he left him in that loft. At first Arnaux did nothing
+all day but walk up and down the wire screen, looking high and low for
+means of escape; but in the fourth month he seemed to have abandoned
+the attempt, and the watchful jailer began the second part of his
+scheme. He introduced a coy young lady Pigeon. But it did not seem to
+answer; Arnaux was not even civil to her. After a time the jailer
+removed the female, and Arnaux was left in solitary confinement for a
+month. Now a different female was brought in, but with no better luck;
+and thus it went on--for a year different charmers were introduced.
+Arnaux either violently repelled them or was scornfully indifferent,
+and at times the old longing to get away, came back with twofold power,
+so that he darted up and down the wire front or dashed with all his
+force against it.
+
+When the storied feathers of his wings began their annual moult, his
+jailer saved them as precious things, and as each new feather came he
+reproduced on it the record of its owner's fame.
+
+Two years went slowly by, and the jailer had put Arnaux in a new loft
+and brought in another lady Pigeon. By chance she closely resembled the
+faithless one at home. Arnaux actually heeded the newcomer. Once the
+jailer thought he saw his famous prisoner paying some slight attention
+to the charmer, and, yes, he surely saw her preparing a nest. Then
+assuming that they had reached a full understanding, the jailer, for
+the first time, opened the outlet, and Arnaux was free. Did he hang
+around in doubt? Did he hesitate? No, not for one moment. As soon as
+the drop of the door left open the way, he shot through, he spread
+those wonderful blazoned wings, and, with no second thought for the
+latest Circe, sprang from the hated prison loft--away and away.
+
+
+V
+
+We have no means of looking into the Pigeon's mind; we may go wrong in
+conjuring up for it deep thoughts of love and welcome home; but we are
+safe in this, we cannot too strongly paint, we cannot too highly praise
+and glorify that wonderful God-implanted, mankind-fostered home-love
+that glows unquenchably in this noble bird. Call it what you like, a
+mere instinct deliberately constructed by man for his selfish ends,
+explain it away if you will, dissect it, misname it, and it still is
+there, in overwhelming, imperishable master-power, as long as the brave
+little heart and wings can beat.
+
+Home, home, sweet home! Never had mankind a stronger love of home than
+Arnaux. The trials and sorrows of the old pigeon-loft were forgotten in
+that all-dominating force of his nature. Not years of prison bars, not
+later loves, nor fear of death, could down its power; and Arnaux, had
+the gift of song been his, must surely have sung as sings a hero in his
+highest joy, when sprang he from the 'lighting board, up-circling free,
+soaring, drawn by the only impulse that those glorious wings would
+honor,--up, up, in widening, heightening circles of ashy blue in the
+blue, flashing those many-lettered wings of white, till they seemed
+like jets of fire--up and on, driven by that home-love, faithful to his
+only home and to his faithless mate; closing his eyes, they say;
+closing his ears, they tell; shutting his mind,--we all believe,--to
+nearer things, to two years of his life, to one half of his prime, but
+soaring in the blue, retiring, as a saint might do, into his inner
+self, giving himself up to that inmost guide. He was the captain of the
+ship, but the pilot, the chart and compass, all, were that
+deep-implanted instinct. One thousand feet above the trees the
+inscrutable whisper came, and Arnaux in arrowy swiftness now was
+pointing for the south-southeast. The little flashes of white fire on
+each side were lost in the low sky, and the reverent robber of Syracuse
+saw Arnaux nevermore.
+
+The fast express was steaming down the valley. It was far ahead, but
+Arnaux overtook and passed it, as the flying wild Duck passes the
+swimming Muskrat. High in the valleys he went, low over the hills of
+Chenango, where the pines were combing the breezes.
+
+Out from his oak-tree eyrie a Hawk came wheeling and sailing, silent,
+for he had marked the Flyer, and meant him for his prey. Arnaux turned
+neither right nor left, nor raised nor lowered his flight, nor lost a
+wing-beat. The Hawk was in waiting in the gap ahead, and Arnaux passed
+him, even as a Deer in his prime may pass by a Bear in his pathway.
+Home! home! was the only burning thought, the blinding impulse.
+
+Beat, beat, beat, those flashing pinions went with speed unslacked on
+the now familiar road. In an hour the Catskills were at hand. In two
+hours he was passing over them. Old friendly places, swiftly coming
+now, lent more force to his wings. Home! home! was the silent song that
+his heart was singing. Like the traveller dying of thirst, that sees
+the palm-trees far ahead, his brilliant eyes took in the distant smoke
+of Manhattan.
+
+Out from the crest of the Catskills there launched a Falcon. Swiftest
+of the race of rapine, proud of his strength, proud of his wings, he
+rejoiced in a worthy prey. Many and many a Pigeon had been borne to his
+nest, and riding the wind he came, swooping, reserving his strength,
+awaiting the proper time. Oh, how well he knew the very moment! Down,
+down like a flashing javelin; no wild Duck, no Hawk could elude him,
+for this was a Falcon. Turn back now, O Homer, and save yourself; go
+round the dangerous hills. Did he turn? Not a whit! for this was
+Arnaux. Home! home! home! was his only thought. To meet the danger, he
+merely added to his speed; and the Peregrine stooped; stooped at
+what?--a flashing of color, a twinkling of whiteness--and went back
+empty. While Arnaux cleft the air of the valley as a stone from a
+sling, to be lost--a white-winged bird--a spot with flashing halo--and,
+quickly, a speck in the offing. On down the dear valley of Hudson, the
+well-known highway; for two years he had not seen it! Now he dropped
+low as the noon breeze came north and ruffled the river below him.
+Home! home! home! and the towers of a city are coming in view! Home!
+home! past the great spider-bridge of Poughkeepsie, skimming, skirting
+the river-banks. Low now by the bank as the wind arose. Low, alas! too
+low!
+
+What fiend was it tempted a gunner in June to lurk on that hill by the
+margin? what devil directed his gaze to the twinkling of white that
+came from the blue to the northward? Oh, Arnaux, Arnaux, skimming low,
+forget not the gunner of old! Too low, too low you are clearing that
+hill. Too low--too late!  Flash--bang! and the death-hail has reached
+him; reached, maimed, but not downed him. Out of the flashing pinions
+broken feathers printed with records went fluttering earthward. The
+"naught" of his sea record was gone. Not two hundred and ten, but
+twenty-one miles it now read. Oh, shameful pillage! A dark stain
+appeared on his bosom, but Arnaux kept on. Home, home, homeward bound.
+The danger was past in an instant. Home, homeward he steered straight
+as before, but the wonderful speed was diminished; not a mile a minute
+now; and the wind made undue sounds in his tattered pinions. The stain
+in his breast told of broken force; but on, straight on, he flew. Home,
+home was in sight, and the pain in his breast was forgotten. The tall
+towers of the city were in clear view of his far-seeing eye as he
+skimmed by the high cliffs of Jersey. On, on--the pinion might flag,
+the eye might darken, but the home-love was stronger and stronger.
+
+Under the tall Palisades, to be screened from the wind, he passed, over
+the sparkling water, over the trees, under the Peregrines' eyrie, under
+the pirates' castle where the great grim Peregrines sat; peering like
+black-masked highwaymen they marked the on-coming Pigeon. Arnaux knew
+them of old. Many a message was lying undelivered in that nest, many a
+record-bearing plume had fluttered away from its fastness. But Arnaux
+had faced them before, and now he came as before--on, onward, swift,
+but not as he had been; the deadly gun had sapped his force, had
+lowered his speed. On, on; and the Peregrines, biding their time, went
+forth like two bow-bolts; strong and lightning-swift they went against
+one weak and wearied.
+
+Why tell of the race that followed? Why paint the despair of a brave
+little heart in sight of the home he had craved in vain? in a minute
+all was over. The Peregrines screeched in their triumph. Screeching and
+sailing, they swung to their eyrie, and the prey in their claws was the
+body, the last of the bright little Arnaux. There on the rocks the
+beaks and claws of the bandits were red with the life of the hero. Torn
+asunder were those matchless wings, and their records were scattered
+unnoticed. In sun and in storm they lay till the killers themselves
+were killed and their stronghold rifled. And none knew the fate of the
+peerless Bird till deep in the dust and rubbish of that pirate-nest the
+avenger found, among others of its kind, a silver ring, the sacred
+badge of the High Homer, and read upon it the pregnant inscription:
+"ARNAUX, 2590 C."
+
+
+
+
+BADLANDS BILLY
+
+The Wolf that Won
+
+I
+
+THE HOWL BY NIGHT
+
+Do you know the three calls of the hunting Wolf:--the long-drawn deep
+howl, the muster, that tells of game discovered but too strong for the
+finder to manage alone; and the higher ululation that ringing and
+swelling is the cry of the pack on a hot scent; and the sharp bark
+coupled with a short howl that, seeming least of all, is yet a gong of
+doom, for this is the cry "Close in"--this is the finish?
+
+We were riding the Badland Buttes, King and I, with a pack of various
+hunting Dogs stringing behind or trotting alongside. The sun had gone
+from the sky, and a blood-streak marked the spot where he died, away
+over Sentinel Butte. The hills were dim, the valleys dark, when from
+the nearest gloom there rolled a long-drawn cry that all men recognize
+instinctively--melodious, yet with a tone in it that sends a shudder up
+the spine, though now it has lost all menace for mankind. We listened
+for a moment. It was the Wolf-hunter who broke silence: "That's
+Badlands Billy; ain't it a voice? He's out for his beef to-night."
+
+
+II
+
+ANCIENT DAYS
+
+In pristine days the Buffalo herds were followed by bands of Wolves
+that preyed on the sick, the weak, and the wounded. When the Buffalo
+were exterminated the Wolves were hard put for support, but the Cattle
+came and solved the question for them by taking the Buffaloes' place.
+This caused the wolf-war. The ranchmen offered a bounty for each Wolf
+killed, and every cowboy out of work, was supplied with traps and
+poison for wolf-killing. The very expert made this their sole business
+and became known as wolvers. King Ryder was one of these. He was a
+quiet, gentlespoken fellow, with a keen eye and an insight into animal
+life that gave him especial power over Broncos and Dogs, as well as
+Wolves and Bears, though in the last two cases it was power merely to
+surmise where they were and how best to get at them. He had been a
+wolver for years, and greatly surprised me by saying that "never in all
+his experience had he known a Gray-wolf to attack a human being."
+
+We had many camp-fire talks while the other men were sleeping, and then
+it was I learned the little that he knew about Badlands Billy. "Six
+times have I seen him and the seventh will be Sunday, you bet. He takes
+his long rest then." And thus on the very ground where it all fell out,
+to the noise of the night wind and the yapping of the Coyote,
+interrupted sometimes by the deep-drawn howl of the hero himself, I
+heard chapters of this history which, with others gleaned in many
+fields, gave me the story of the Big Dark Wolf of Sentinel Butte.
+
+
+III
+
+IN THE CAŃON
+
+Away back in the spring of '92 a wolver was "wolving" on the east side
+of the Sentinel Mountain that so long was a principal landmark of the
+old Plainsmen. Pelts were not good in May, but the bounties were high,
+five dollars a head, and double for She-wolves. As he went down to the
+creek one morning he saw a Wolf coming to drink on the other side. He
+had an easy shot, and on killing it found it was a nursing She-wolf.
+Evidently her family were somewhere near, so he spent two or three days
+searching in all the likely places, but found no clue to the den.
+
+Two weeks afterward, as the wolver rode down an adjoining cańon, he saw
+a Wolf come out of a hole. The ever-ready rifle flew up, and another
+ten-dollar scalp was added to his string. Now he dug into the den and
+found the litter, a most surprising one indeed, for it consisted not of
+the usual five or six Wolf-pups, but of eleven, and these, strange to
+say, were of two sizes, five of them larger and older than the other
+six. Here were two distinct families with one mother, and as he added
+their scalps to his string of trophies the truth dawned on the hunter.
+One lot was surely the family of the She-wolf he had killed two weeks
+before. The case was clear: the little ones awaiting the mother that
+was never to come, had whined piteously and more loudly as their
+hunger-pangs increased; the other mother passing had heard the Cubs;
+her heart was tender now, her own little ones had so recently come, and
+she cared for the orphans, carried them to her own den, and was
+providing for the double family when the rifleman had cut the gentle
+chapter short.
+
+Many a wolver has dug into a wolf-den to find nothing. The old Wolves
+or possibly the Cubs themselves often dig little side pockets and off
+galleries, and when an enemy is breaking in they hide in these. The
+loose earth conceals the small pocket and thus the Cubs escape. When
+the wolver retired with his scalps he did not know that the biggest of
+all the Cubs, was still in the den, and even had he waited about for
+two hours, he might have been no wiser. Three hours later the sun went
+down and there was a slight scratching afar in the hole; first two
+little gray paws, then a small black nose appeared in a soft sand-pile
+to one side of the den. At length the Cub came forth from his hiding.
+He had been frightened by the attack on the den; now he was perplexed
+by its condition.
+
+It was thrice as large as it had been and open at the top now. Lying
+near were things that smelled like his brothers and sisters, but they
+were repellent to him. He was filled with fear as he sniffed at them,
+and sneaked aside into a thicket of grass, as a Night-hawk boomed over
+his head. He crouched all night in that thicket. He did not dare to go
+near the den, and knew not where else he could go. The next morning
+when two Vultures came swooping down on the bodies, the Wolf-cub ran
+off in the thicket, and seeking its deepest cover, was led down a
+ravine to a wide valley. Suddenly there arose from the grass a big
+She-wolf, like his mother, yet different, a stranger, and instinctively
+the stray Cub sank to the earth, as the old Wolf bounded on him. No
+doubt the Cub had been taken for some lawful prey, but a whiff set that
+right. She stood over him for an instant. He grovelled at her feet. The
+impulse to kill him or at least give him a shake died away. He had the
+smell of a young Cub. Her own were about his age, her heart was
+touched, and when he found courage enough to put his nose up and smell
+her nose, she made no angry demonstration except a short half-hearted
+growl. Now, however, he had smelled something that he sorely needed. He
+had not fed since the day before, and when the old Wolf turned to leave
+him, he tumbled after her on clumsy puppy legs. Had the Mother-wolf
+been far from home he must soon have been left behind, but the nearest
+hollow was the chosen place, and the Cub arrived at the den's mouth
+soon after the Mother-wolf.
+
+A stranger is an enemy, and the old one rushing forth to the defense,
+met the Cub again, and again was restrained by something that rose in
+her responsive to the smell. The Cub had thrown himself on his back in
+utter submission, but that did not prevent his nose reporting to him
+the good thing almost within reach. The She-wolf went into the den and
+curled herself about her brood; the Cub persisted in following. She
+snarled as he approached her own little ones, but disarming wrath each
+time by submission and his very cubhood, he was presently among her
+brood, helping himself to what he wanted so greatly, and thus he
+adopted himself into her family. In a few days he was so much one of
+them that the mother forgot about his being a stranger. Yet he was
+different from them in several ways--older by two weeks, stronger, and
+marked on the neck and shoulders with what afterward grew to be a dark
+mane.
+
+Little Duskymane could not have been happier in his choice of a
+foster-mother, for the Yellow Wolf was not only a good hunter with a
+fund of cunning, but she was a Wolf of modern ideas as well. The old
+tricks of tolling a Prairie Dog, relaying for Antelope, houghing a
+Bronco or flanking a Steer she had learned partly from instinct and
+partly from the example of her more experienced relatives, when they
+joined to form the winter bands. But, just as necessary nowadays, she
+had learned that all men carry guns, that guns are irresistible, that
+the only way to avoid them is by keeping out of sight while the sun is
+up, and yet that at night they are harmless. She had a fair
+comprehension of traps, indeed she had been in one once, and though she
+left a toe behind in pulling free, it was a toe most advantageously
+disposed of; thenceforth, though not comprehending the nature of the
+trap, she was thoroughly imbued with the horror of it, with the idea
+indeed that iron is dangerous, and at any price it should be avoided.
+
+On one occasion, when she and five others were planning to raid a Sheep
+yard, she held back at the last minute because some newstrung wires
+appeared. The others rushed in to find the Sheep beyond their reach,
+themselves in a death-trap.
+
+Thus she had learned the newer dangers, and while it is unlikely that
+she had any clear mental conception of them she had acquired a
+wholesome distrust of all things strange, and a horror of one or two in
+particular that proved her lasting safeguard. Each year she raised her
+brood successfully and the number of Yellow Wolves increased in the
+country. Guns, traps, men and the new animals they brought had been
+learned, but there was yet another lesson before her--a terrible one
+indeed.
+
+About the time Duskymane's brothers were a month old his foster-mother
+returned in a strange condition. She was frothing at the mouth, her
+legs trembled, and she fell in a convulsion near the doorway of the
+den, but recovering, she came in. Her jaws quivered, her teeth rattled
+a little as she tried to lick the little ones; she seized her own front
+leg and bit it so as not to bite them, but at length she grew quieter
+and calmer. The Cubs had retreated in fear to a far pocket, but now
+they returned and crowded about her to seek their usual food. The
+mother recovered, but was very ill for two or three days, and those
+days with the poison in her system worked disaster for the brood. They
+were terribly sick; only the strongest could survive, and when the
+trial of strength was over, the den contained only the old one and the
+Black-maned Cub, the one she had adopted. Thus little Duskymane became
+her sole charge; all her strength was devoted to feeding him, and he
+thrived apace.
+
+Wolves are quick to learn certain things. The reactions of smell are
+the greatest that a Wolf can feel, and thenceforth both Cub and
+foster-mother experienced a quick, unreasoning sense of fear and hate
+the moment the smell of strychnine reached them.
+
+
+IV
+
+THE RUDIMENTS OF WOLF TRAINING
+
+With the sustenance of seven at his service the little Wolf had every
+reason to grow, and when in the autumn he began to follow his mother on
+her hunting trips he was as tall as she was. Now a change of region was
+forced on them, for numbers of little Wolves were growing up. Sentinel
+Butte, the rocky fastness of the plains, was claimed by many that were
+big and strong; the weaker must move out, and with them Yellow Wolf and
+the Dusky Cub.
+
+Wolves have no language in the sense that man has; their vocabulary is
+probably limited to a dozen howls, barks, and grunts expressing the
+simplest emotions; but they have several other modes of conveying
+ideas, and one very special method of spreading information--the
+Wolf-telephone. Scattered over their range are a number of recognized
+"centrals." Sometimes these are stones, sometimes the angle of
+cross-trails, sometimes a Buffalo-skull--indeed, any conspicuous object
+near a main trail is used. A Wolf calling here, as a Dog does at a
+telegraph post, or a Muskrat at a certain mud-pie point, leaves his
+body-scent and learns what other visitors have been there recently to
+do the same. He learns also whence they came and where they went, as
+well as something about their condition, whether hunted, hungry,
+gorged, or sick. By this system of registration a Wolf knows where his
+friends, as well as his foes, are to be found. And Duskymane, following
+after the Yellow Wolf, was taught the places and uses of the many
+signal-stations without any conscious attempt at teaching on the part
+of his foster-mother. Example backed by his native instincts was indeed
+the chief teacher, but on one occasion at least there was something
+very like the effort of a human parent to guard her child in danger.
+
+The Dark Cub had learned the rudiments of Wolf life: that the way to
+fight Dogs is to run, and to fight as you run, never grapple, but snap,
+snap, snap, and make for the rough country where Horses cannot bring
+their riders.
+
+He learned not to bother about the Coyotes that follow for the pickings
+when you hunt; you cannot catch them and they do you no harm.
+
+He knew he must not waste time dashing after Birds that alight on the
+ground; and that he must keep away from the little black and white
+Animal with the bushy tail. It is not very good to eat, and it is very,
+very bad to smell.
+
+Poison! Oh, he never forgot that smell from the day when the den was
+cleared of all his foster-brothers.
+
+He now knew that the first move in attacking Sheep was to scatter them;
+a lone Sheep is a foolish and easy prey; that the way to round up a
+band of Cattle was to frighten a Calf.
+
+He learned that he must always attack a Steer behind, a Sheep in front,
+and a Horse in the middle, that is, on the flank, and never, never
+attack a man at all, never even face him. But an important lesson was
+added to these, one in which the mother consciously taught him of a
+secret foe.
+
+
+V
+
+THE LESSON ON TRAPS
+
+A Calf had died in branding-time and now, two weeks later, was in its
+best state for perfect taste, not too fresh, not over-ripe--that is, in
+a Wolf's opinion--and the wind carried this information afar. The
+Yellow Wolf and Duskymane were out for supper, though not yet knowing
+where, when the tidings of veal arrived, and they trotted up the wind.
+The Calf was in an open place, and plain to be seen in the moonlight. A
+Dog would have trotted right up to the carcass, an  old-time Wolf might
+have done so, but constant war had developed constant vigilance in the
+Yellow Wolf, and trusting nothing and no one but her nose, she slacked
+her speed to a walk. On coming in easy view she stopped, and for long
+swung her nose, submitting the wind to the closest possible chemical
+analysis. She tried it with her finest tests, blew all the membranes
+clean again and tried it once more; and this was the report of the
+trusty nostrils, yes, the unanimous report. First, rich and racy smell
+of Calf, seventy per cent.; smells of grass, bugs, wood, flowers,
+trees, sand, and other uninteresting negations, fifteen per cent.;
+smell of her Cub and herself, positive but ignorable, ten per cent.;
+smell of human tracks, two per cent.; smell of smoke, one per cent.; of
+sweaty leather smell, one per cent.; of human body-scent (not
+discernible in some samples), one-half per cent.; smell of iron, a
+trace.
+
+The old Wolf crouched a little but sniffed hard with swinging nose; the
+young Wolf imitatively did the same. She backed off to a greater
+distance; the Cub stood. She gave a low whine; he followed unwillingly.
+She circled around the tempting carcass; a new smell was
+recorded--Coyote trail-scent, soon followed by Coyote body-scent. Yes,
+there they were sneaking along a near ridge, and now as she passed to
+one side the samples changed, the wind had lost nearly every trace of
+Calf; miscellaneous, commonplace, and uninteresting smells were there
+instead. The human track-scent was as before, the trace of leather was
+gone, but fully one-half per cent, of iron-odor, and body smell of man
+raised to nearly two per cent.
+
+Fully alarmed, she conveyed her fear to the Cub, by her rigid pose, her
+air intent, and her slightly bristling mane.
+
+She continued her round. At one time on a high place the human body
+scent was doubly strong, then as she dropped it faded. Then the wind
+brought the full calf-odor with several track-scents of Coyotes and
+sundry Birds. Her suspicions were lulling as in a smalling circle she
+neared the tempting feast from the windward side. She had even advanced
+straight toward it for a few steps when the sweaty leather sang loud
+and strong again, and smoke and iron mingled like two strands of a
+parti-colored yarn. Centring all her attention on this, she advanced
+within two leaps of the Calf. There on the ground was a scrap of
+leather, telling also of a human touch, close at hand the Calf, and now
+the iron and smoke on the full vast smell of Calf were like a snake
+trail across the trail of a whole Beef herd. It was so slight that the
+Cub, with the appetite and impatience of youth, pressed up against his
+mother's shoulder to go past and eat without delay. She seized him by
+the neck and flung him back. A stone struck by his feet rolled forward
+and stopped with a peculiar clink. The danger smell was greatly
+increased at this, and the Yellow Wolf backed slowly from the feast,
+the Cub unwillingly following.
+
+As he looked wistfully he saw the Coyotes drawing nearer, mindful
+chiefly to avoid the Wolves. He watched their really cautious advance;
+it seemed like heedless rushing compared with his mother's approach.
+The Calf smell rolled forth in exquisite and overpowering excellence
+now, for they were tearing the meat, when a sharp clank was heard and a
+yelp from a Coyote. At the same time the quiet night was shocked with a
+roar and a flash of fire. Heavy shots spattered Calf and Coyotes, and
+yelping like beaten Dogs they scattered, excepting one that was killed
+and a second struggling in the trap set here by the ever-active
+wolvers. The air was charged with the hateful smells redoubled now, and
+horrid smells additional. The Yellow Wolf glided down a hollow and led
+her Cub away in flight, but, as they went, they saw a man rush from the
+bank near where the mother's nose had warned her of the human scent.
+They saw him kill the caught Coyote and set the traps for more.
+
+
+
+VI
+
+THE BEGUILING OF THE YELLOW WOLF
+
+The life game is a hard game, for we may win ten thousand times, and if
+we fail but once our gain is gone. How many hundred times had the
+Yellow Wolf scorned the traps; how many Cubs she had trained to do the
+same! Of all the dangers to her life she best knew traps.
+
+October had come; the Cub was now much taller than the mother. The
+wolver had seen them once--a Yellow Wolf followed by another, whose
+long, awkward legs, big, soft feet, thin neck, and skimpy tail
+proclaimed him this year's Cub. The record of the dust and sand said
+that the old one had lost a right front toe, and that the young one was
+of giant size.
+
+It was the wolver that thought to turn the carcass of the Calf to
+profit, but he was disappointed in getting Coyotes instead of Wolves.
+It was the beginning of the trapping season, for this month fur is
+prime. A young trapper often fastens the bait on the trap; an
+experienced one does not. A good trapper will even put the bait at one
+place and the trap ten or twenty feet away, but at a spot that the Wolf
+is likely to cross in circling. A favorite plan is to hide three or
+four traps around an open place, and scatter some scraps of meat in the
+middle. The traps are buried out of sight after being smoked to hide
+the taint of hands and iron. Sometimes no bait is used except a little
+piece of cotton or a tuft of feathers that may catch the Wolf's eye or
+pique its curiosity and tempt it to circle on the fateful, treacherous
+ground. A good trapper varies his methods continually so that the
+Wolves cannot learn his ways. Their only safeguards are perpetual
+vigilance and distrust of all smells that are known to be of man.
+
+The wolver, with a load of the strongest steel traps, had begun his
+autumn work on the 'Cottonwood.'
+
+An old Buffalo trail crossing the river followed a little draw that
+climbed the hills to the level upland. All animals use these trails,
+Wolves and Foxes as well as Cattle and Deer: they are the main
+thoroughfares. A cottonwood stump not far from where it plunged to the
+gravelly stream was marked with Wolf signs that told the wolver of its
+use. Here was an excellent place for traps, not on the trail, for
+Cattle were here in numbers, but twenty yards away on a level, sandy
+spot he set four traps in a twelve-foot square. Near each he scattered
+two or three scraps of meat; three or four white feathers on a spear of
+grass in the middle completed the setting. No human eye, few animal
+noses, could have detected the hidden danger of that sandy ground, when
+the sun and wind and the sand itself had dissipated the man-track taint.
+
+The Yellow Wolf had seen and passed, and taught her giant son to pass,
+such traps a thousand times before.
+
+The Cattle came to water in the heat of the day. They strung down the
+Buffalo path as once the Buffalo did. The little Vesper-birds flitted
+before them, the Cowbirds rode on them, and the Prairie-dogs chattered
+at them, just as they once did at the Buffalo.
+
+Down from the gray-green mesa with its green-gray rocks, they marched
+with imposing solemnity, importance, and directness of purpose. Some
+frolicsome Calves, playing along-side the trail, grew sober and walked
+behind their mothers as the river flat was reached. The old Cow that
+headed the procession sniffed suspiciously as she passed the "trap
+set," but it was far away, otherwise she would have pawed and bellowed
+over the scraps of bloody beef till every trap was sprung and harmless.
+
+But she led to the river. After all had drunk their fill they lay down
+on the nearest bank till late afternoon. Then their unheard dinner-gong
+aroused them, and started them on the backward march to where the
+richest pastures grew.
+
+One or two small birds had picked at the scraps of meat, some
+blue-bottle flies buzzed about, but the sinking sun saw the sandy mask
+untouched.
+
+A brown Marsh Hawk came skimming over the river flat as the sun began
+his color play. Blackbirds dashed into thickets, and easily avoided his
+clumsy pounce. It was too early for the Mice, but, as he skimmed the
+ground, his keen eye caught the flutter of feathers by the trap and
+turned his flight. The feathers in their uninteresting emptiness were
+exposed before he was near, but now he saw the scraps of meat.
+Guileless of cunning, he alighted and was devouring a second lump
+when--clank--the dust was flirted high and the Marsh Hawk was held by
+his toes, struggling vainly in the jaws of a powerful wolf-trap. He was
+not much hurt. His ample wings winnowed from time to time, in efforts
+to be free, but he was helpless, even as a Sparrow might be in a
+rat-trap, and when the sun had played his fierce chromatic scale, his
+swan-song sung, and died as he dies only in the blazing west, and the
+shades had fallen on the melodramatic scene of the Mouse in the
+elephant-trap, there was a deep, rich sound on the high flat butte,
+answered by another, neither very long, neither repeated, and both
+instinctive rather than necessary. One was the muster-call of an
+ordinary Wolf, the other the answer of a very big male, not a pair in
+this case, but mother and son--Yellow Wolf and Duskymane. They came
+trotting together down the Buffalo trail. They paused at the telephone
+box on the hill and again at the old cottonwood root, and were making
+for the river when the Hawk in the trap fluttered his wings. The old
+Wolf turned toward him,-a wounded bird on the ground surely, and she
+rushed forward. Sun and sand soon burn all trail-scents; there was
+nothing to warn her. She sprang on the flopping bird and a chop of her
+jaws ended his troubles, but a horrid sound--the gritting of her teeth
+on steel--told her of peril. She dropped the Hawk and sprang backward
+from the dangerous ground, but landed in the second trap. High on her
+foot its death-grip closed, and leaping with all her strength, to
+escape, she set her fore foot in another of the lurking grips of steel.
+Never had a trap been so baited before. Never was she so unsuspicious.
+Never was catch more sure. Fear and fury filled the old Wolf's heart;
+she tugged and strained, she chewed the chains, she snarled and foamed.
+One trap with its buried log, she might have dragged; with two, she was
+helpless. Struggle as she might, it only worked those relentless jaws
+more deeply into her feet. She snapped wildly at the air; she tore the
+dead Hawk into shreds; she roared the short, barking roar of a crazy
+Wolf. She bit at the traps, at her cub, at herself. She tore her legs
+that were held; she gnawed in frenzy at her flank, she chopped off her
+tail in her madness; she splintered all her teeth on the steel, and
+filled her bleeding, foaming jaws with clay and sand.
+
+She struggled till she fell, and writhed about or lay like dead, till
+strong enough to rise and grind the chains again with her teeth.
+
+And so the night passed by.
+
+And Duskymane? Where was he? The feeling of the time when his
+foster-mother had come home poisoned, now returned; but he was even
+more afraid of her. She seemed filled with fighting hate. He held away
+and whined a little; he slunk off and came back when she lay still,
+only to retreat again, as she sprang forward, raging at him, and then
+renewed her efforts at the traps. He did not understand it, but he knew
+this much, she was in terrible trouble, and the cause seemed to be the
+same as that which had scared them the night they had ventured near the
+Calf.
+
+Duskymane hung about all night, fearing to go near, not knowing what to
+do, and helpless as his mother.
+
+At dawn the next day a sheepherder seeking lost Sheep discovered her
+from a neighboring hill. A signal mirror called the wolver from his
+camp. Duskymane saw the new danger. He was a mere Cub, though so tall;
+he could not face the man, and fled at his approach.
+
+The wolver rode up to the sorry, tattered, bleeding She-wolf in the
+trap. He raised his rifle and soon the struggling stopped.
+
+The wolver read the trail and the signs about, and remembering those he
+had read before, he divined that this was the Wolf with the great
+Cub--the She-wolf of Sentinel Butte.
+
+Duskymane heard the "crack" as he scurried off into cover. He could
+scarcely know what it meant, but he never saw his kind old
+foster-mother again. Thenceforth he must face the world alone.
+
+
+VII
+
+THE YOUNG WOLF WINS A PLACE AND FAME
+
+Instinct is no doubt a Wolf's first and best guide, but gifted parents
+are a great start in life. The dusky-maned cub had had a mother of rare
+excellence and he reaped the advantage of all her cleverness. He had
+inherited an exquisite nose and had absolute confidence in its
+admonitions. Mankind has difficulty in recognizing the power of
+nostrils. A Gray-wolf can glance over the morning wind as a man does
+over his newspaper, and get all the latest news. He can swing over the
+ground and have the minutest information of every living creature that
+has walked there within many hours. His nose even tells which way it
+ran, and in a word renders a statement of every animal that recently
+crossed his trail, whence it came, and whither it went.
+
+That power had Duskymane in the highest degree; his broad, moist nose
+was evidence of it to all who are judges of such things. Added to this,
+his frame was of unusual power and endurance, and last, he had early
+learned a deep distrust of everything strange, and, call it what we
+will, shyness, wariness or suspicion, it was worth more to him than all
+his cleverness. It was this as much as his physical powers that made a
+success of his life. Might is right in wolf-land, and Duskymane and his
+mother had been driven out of Sentinel Butte. But it was a very
+delectable land and he kept drifting back to his native mountain. One
+or two big Wolves there resented his coming. They drove him off several
+times, yet each time he returned he was better able to face them; and
+before he was eighteen months old he had defeated all rivals and
+established himself again on his native ground; where he lived like a
+robber baron, levying tribute on the rich lands about him and finding
+safety in the rocky fastness.
+
+Wolver Ryder often hunted in that country, and before long, he came
+across a five-and-one-half-inch track, the foot-print of a giant Wolf.
+Roughly reckoned, twenty to twenty-five pounds of weight or six inches
+of stature is a fair allowance for each inch of a Wolf's foot; this
+Wolf therefore stood thirty-three inches at the shoulder and weighed
+about one hundred and forty pounds, by far the largest Wolf he had ever
+met. King had lived in Goat country, and now in Goat language he
+exclaimed: "You bet, ain't that an old Billy?" Thus by trivial chance
+it was that Duskymane was known to his foe, as 'Badlands Billy.'
+
+Ryder was familiar with the muster-call of the Wolves, the long, smooth
+cry, but Billy's had a singular feature, a slurring that was always
+distinctive. Ryder had heard this before, in the Cottonwood Cańon, and
+when at length he got a sight of the big Wolf with the black mane, it
+struck him that this was also the Cub of the old Yellow fury that he
+had trapped.
+
+These were among the things he told me as we sat by the fire at night.
+I knew of the early days when any one could trap or poison Wolves, of
+the passing of those days, with the passing of the simple Wolves; of
+the new race of Wolves with new cunning that were defying the methods
+of the ranchmen, and increasing steadily in numbers. Now the wolver
+told me of the various ventures that Penroof had made with different
+kinds of Hounds; of Foxhounds too thin-skinned to fight; of Greyhounds
+that were useless when the animal was out of sight; of Danes too heavy
+for the rough country, and, last, of the composite pack with some of
+all kinds, including at times a Bull-terrier to lead them in the final
+fight.
+
+He told of hunts after Coyotes, which usually were successful because
+the Coyotes sought the plains, and were easily caught by the
+Greyhounds. He told of killing some small Gray-wolves with this very
+pack, usually at the cost of the one that led them; but above all he
+dwelt on the wonderful prowess of "that thar cussed old Black Wolf of
+Sentinel Butte," and related the many attempts to run him down or
+corner him--an unbroken array of failures. For the big Wolf, with
+exasperating persistence, continued to live on the finest stock of the
+Penroof brand, and each year was teaching more Wolves how to do the
+same with perfect impunity.
+
+I listened even as gold-hunters listen to stories of treasure trove,
+for these were the things of my world. These things indeed were
+uppermost in all our minds, for the Penroof pack was lying around our
+camp-fire now. We were out after Badlands Billy.
+
+
+VIII
+
+THE VOICE IN THE NIGHT AND THE BIG TRACK IN THE MORNING
+
+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!
+
+
+IX
+
+RUN DOWN AT LAST
+
+It was the roughest of all rough riding. It was a far longer hunt than
+we had expected, and was full of little incidents, for that endless
+line of marks was a minute history of all that the big Wolf had done
+the night before. Here he had circled at the telephone box and looked
+for news; there he had paused to examine an old skull; here he had
+shied off and swung cautiously up wind to examine something that proved
+to be an old tin can; there at length he had mounted a low hill and sat
+down, probably giving the muster-howl, for two Wolves had come to him
+from different directions, and they then had descended to the river
+flat where the Cattle would seek shelter during the storm. Here all
+three had visited a Buffalo skull; there they trotted in line; and
+yonder they separated, going three different ways, to
+meet--yes--here--oh, what a sight, a fine Cow ripped open, left dead
+and uneaten. Not to their taste, it seems, for see! within a mile is
+another killed by them. Not six hours ago, they had feasted. Here their
+trails scatter again, but not far, and the snow tells plainly how each
+had lain down to sleep. The Hounds' manes bristled as they sniffed
+those places. King had held the Dogs well in hand, but now they were
+greatly excited. We came to a hill whereon the Wolves had turned and
+faced our way, then fled at full speed,--so said the trail,--and now it
+was clear that they had watched us from that hill, and were not far
+away.
+
+The pack kept well together, because the Greyhounds, seeing no quarry,
+were merely puttering about among the other Dogs, or running back with
+the Horses. We went as fast as we could, for the Wolves were speeding.
+Up mesas and down coulees we rode, sticking closely to the Dogs, though
+it was the roughest country that could be picked. One gully after
+another, an hour and another hour, and still the threefold track went
+bounding on; another hour and no change, but interminable climbing,
+sliding, struggling, through brush and over boulders, guided by the
+far-away yelping of the Dogs.
+
+Now the chase led downward to the low valley of the river, where there
+was scarcely any snow. Jumping and scrambling down hills, recklessly
+leaping dangerous gullies and slippery rocks, we felt that we could not
+hold out much longer; when on the lowest, dryest level the pack split,
+some went up, some went down, and others straight on. Oh, how King did
+swear! He knew at once what it meant. The Wolves had scattered, and so
+had divided the pack. Three Dogs after a Wolf would have no chance,
+four could not kill him, two would certainly be killed. And yet this
+was the first encouraging sign we had seen, for it meant that the
+Wolves were hard pressed. We spurred ahead to stop the Dogs, to pick
+for them the only trail. But that was not so easy. Without snow here
+and with countless Dog tracks, we were foiled. All we could do was to
+let the Dogs choose, but keep them to a single choice. Away we went as
+before, hoping, yet fearing that we were not on the right track. The
+Dogs ran well, very fast indeed. This was a bad sign, King said, but we
+could not get sight of the track because the Dogs overran it before we
+came.
+
+After a two-mile run the chase led upward again in snow country; the
+Wolf was sighted, but to our disgust, we were on the track of the
+smallest one.
+
+"I thought so," growled young Penroof. "Dogs was altogether too keen
+for a serious proposition. Kind o' surprised it ain't turned out a
+Jack-rabbit."
+
+Within another mile he had turned to bay in a willow thicket. We heard
+him howl the long-drawn howl for help, and before we could reach the
+place King saw the Dogs recoil and scatter. A minute later there sped
+from the far side of the thicket a small Gray-wolf and a Black One of
+very much greater size.
+
+"By golly, if he didn't yell for help, and Billy come back to help him;
+that's great!" exclaimed the wolver. And my heart went out to the brave
+old Wolf that refused to escape by abandoning his friend.
+
+The next hour was a hard repetition of the gully riding, but it was on
+the highlands where there was snow, and when again the pack was split,
+we strained every power and succeeded in keeping them on the big
+"five-fifty track," that already was wearing for me the glamour of
+romance.
+
+Evidently the Dogs preferred either of the others, but we got them
+going at last. Another half hour's hard work and far ahead, as I rose
+to a broad flat plain, I had my first glimpse of the Big Black Wolf of
+Sentinel Butte.
+
+"Hurrah! Badlands Billy! Hurrah! Badlands Billy!" I shouted in salute,
+and the others took up the cry.
+
+We were on his track at last, thanks to himself. The Dogs joined in
+with a louder baying, the Greyhounds yelped and made straight for him,
+and the Horses sniffed and sprang more gamely as they caught the
+thrill. The only silent one was the black-maned Wolf, and as I marked
+his size and power, and above all his long and massive jaws, I knew why
+the Dogs preferred some other trail.
+
+With head and tail low he was bounding over the snow. His tongue was
+lolling long; plainly he was hard pressed. The wolvers' hands flew to
+their revolvers, though he was three hundred yards ahead; they were out
+for blood, not sport. But an instant later he had sunk from view in the
+nearest sheltered cańon.
+
+Now which way would he go, up or down the cańon? Up was toward his
+mountain, down was better cover. King and I thought "up," so pressed
+westward along the ridge. But the others rode eastward, watching for a
+chance to shoot.
+
+Soon we had ridden out of hearing. We were wrong--the Wolf had gone
+down, but we heard no shooting. The cańon was crossable here; we
+reached the other side and then turned back at a gallop, scanning the
+snow for a trail, the hills for a moving form, or the wind for a sound
+of life.
+
+"Squeak, squeak," went our saddle leathers, "puff-puff" our Horses, and
+their feet "ka-ka-lump, ka-ka-lump."
+
+
+X
+
+WHEN BILLY WENT BACK TO HIS MOUNTAIN
+
+We were back opposite to where the Wolf had plunged, but saw no sign.
+We rode at an easy gallop, on eastward, a mile, and still on, when King
+gasped out, "Look at that!" A dark spot was moving on the snow ahead.
+We put on speed. Another dark spot appeared, and another, but they were
+not going fast. In five minutes we were near them, to find--three of
+our own Greyhounds. They had lost sight of the game, and with that
+their interest waned. Now they were seeking us. We saw nothing there of
+the chase or of the other hunters. But hastening to the next ridge we
+stumbled on the trail we sought and followed as hard as though in view.
+Another cańon came in our path, and as we rode and looked for a place
+to cross, a wild din of Hounds came from its brushy depth. The clamor
+grew and passed up the middle.
+
+We raced along the rim, hoping to see the game. The Dogs appeared near
+the farther side, not in a pack, but a long, straggling line. In five
+minutes more they rose to the edge, and ahead of 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 cańon 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 cańon dwindled--rough 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 bay--they 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
+cańon. 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, and--now all you who love the Dogs had better close
+the book--on--up and down--fifteen 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 Tige--but 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 on--down-to their death.
+Slash, chop and heave, from the swiftest to the biggest, to the last,
+down--down--he 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
+aside--the 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
+cańon 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 nothing--we 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
+generous--had 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 ones--half starved before they came--were a double drain,
+for they took the time she might have spent in hunting.
+
+The Northern Hare is the favorite food of the Lynx, and in some years
+she could have killed fifty in one day, but never one did she see this
+season. The plague had done its work too well.
+
+One day she caught a Red-squirrel which had run into a hollow log that
+proved a trap. Another day a fetid Blacksnake was her only food. A day
+was missed, and the little ones whined piteously for their natural food
+and failing drink. One day she saw a large black animal of unpleasant
+but familiar smell. Swiftly and silently she sprang to make attack. She
+struck it once on the nose, but the Porcupine doubled his head under,
+his tail flew up, and the mother Lynx was speared in a dozen places
+with the little stinging javelins. She drew them all with her teeth,
+for she had "learned Porcupine" years before, and only the hard push of
+want would have made her strike one now.
+
+A Frog was all she caught that day. On the next, as she ranged the
+farthest woods in a long, hard hunt, she heard a singular calling
+voice. It was new to her. She approached it cautiously, up wind, got
+many new odors and some more strange sounds in coming. The loud, clear,
+rolling call was repeated as the mother Lynx came to an opening in the
+forest. In the middle of it were two enormous muskrat or beaver-houses,
+far bigger than the biggest she ever before had seen. They were made
+partly of logs and situated, not in a pond, but on a dry knoll. Walking
+about them were a number of Partridges, that is, birds like Partridges,
+only larger and of various colors, red, yellow, and white.
+
+She quivered with the excitement that in a man would have been called
+buck-fever. Food--food--abundance of food, and the old huntress sank to
+earth. Her breast was on the ground, her elbows above her back, as she
+made stalk, her shrewdest, subtlest stalk; one of those Partridges she
+must have at any price; no trick now must go untried, no error in this
+hunt; if it took hours--all day--she must approach with certainty to
+win before the quarry took to flight.
+
+Only a few bounds it was from wood shelter to the great rat-house, but
+she was an hour in crawling that small space. From stump to brush, from
+log to bunch of grass she sneaked, a flattened form, and the Partridges
+saw her not. They fed about, the biggest uttering the ringing call that
+first had fallen on her ear.
+
+Once they seemed to sense their peril, but a long await dispelled the
+fear. Now they were almost in reach, and she trembled with all the
+eagerness of the hunting heart and the hungry maw. Her eye centred on a
+white one not quite the nearest, but the color seemed to hold her gaze.
+
+There was an open space around the rat-house; outside that were tall
+weeds, and stumps were scattered everywhere. The white bird wandered
+behind these weeds, the red one of the loud voice flew to the top of
+the rat-mound and sang as before. The mother Lynx sank lower yet. It
+seemed an alarm note; but no, the white one still was there; she could
+see its feathers gleaming through the weeds. An open space now lay
+about. The huntress, flattened like an empty skin, trailed slow and
+silent on the ground behind a log no thicker than her neck; if she
+could reach that tuft of brush she could get unseen to the weeds and
+then would be near enough to spring. She could smell them now--the rich
+and potent smell of life, of flesh and blood, that set her limbs
+a-tingle and her eyes a-glow.
+
+The Partridges still scratched and fed; another flew to the high top,
+but the white one remained. Five more slow-gliding, silent steps, and
+the Lynx was behind the weeds, the white bird shining through; she
+gauged the distance, tried the footing, swung her hind legs to clear
+some fallen brush, then leaped direct with all her force, and the white
+one never knew the death it died, for the fateful gray shadow dropped,
+the swift and deadly did their work, and before the other birds could
+realize the foe or fly, the Lynx was gone, with the white bird
+squirming in her jaws.
+
+Uttering an unnecessary growl of inborn ferocity and joy she bounded
+into the forest, and bee-like sped for home. The last quiver had gone
+from the warm body of the victim when she heard the sound of heavy feet
+ahead. She leaped on a log. The wings of her prey were muffling her
+eyes, so she laid the bird down and held it safely with one paw. The
+sound drew nearer, the bushes bent, and a Boy stepped into view. The
+old Lynx knew and hated his kind. She had watched them at night, had
+followed them, had been hunted and hurt by them. For a moment they
+stood face to face. The huntress growled a warning that was also a
+challenge and a defiance, picked up the bird and bounded from the log
+into the sheltering bushes. It was a mile or two to the den, but she
+stayed not to eat till the sunlit opening and the big basswood came to
+view; then a low "prr-prr" called forth the little ones to revel with
+their mother in a plenteous meal of the choicest food.
+
+
+III
+
+THE HOME OF THE LYNX
+
+At first Thor, being town-bred, was timid about venturing into the
+woods beyond the sound of Corney's axe; but day by day he went farther,
+guiding himself, not by unreliable moss on trees, but by sun, compass,
+and landscape features. His purpose was to learn about the wild animals
+rather than to kill them; but the naturalist is close kin to the
+sportsman, and the gun was his constant companion. In the clearing, the
+only animal of any size was a fat Woodchuck; it had a hole under a
+stump some hundred yards from the shanty. On sunny mornings it used to
+lie basking on the stump, but eternal vigilance is the price of every
+good thing in the woods. The Woodchuck was always alert and Thor tried
+in vain to shoot or even to trap him.
+
+"Hyar," said Corney one morning, "time we had some fresh meat." He took
+down his rifle, an old-fashioned brass-mounted small-bore, and loading
+with care that showed the true rifleman, he steadied the weapon against
+the door-jamb and fired. The Woodchuck fell backward and lay still.
+Thor raced to the place and returned in triumph with the animal,
+shouting: "Plumb through the head--one hundred and twenty yards."
+
+Corney controlled the gratified smile that wrestled with the corners of
+his mouth, but his bright eyes shone a trifle brighter for the moment.
+
+It was no mere killing for killing's sake, for the Woodchuck was
+spreading a belt of destruction in the crop around his den. Its flesh
+supplied the family with more than one good meal and Corney showed Thor
+how to use the skin. First the pelt was wrapped in hardwood ashes for
+twenty-four hours. This brought the hair off. Then the skin was soaked
+for three days in soft soap and worked by hand, as it dried, till it
+came out a white strong leather.
+
+Thor's wanderings extended farther in search of the things which always
+came as surprises however much he was looking for them. Many days were
+blanks and others would be crowded with incidents, for unexpectedness
+is above all the peculiar feature of hunting, and its lasting charm.
+One day he had gone far beyond the ridge in a new direction and passed
+through an open glade where lay the broken trunk of a huge basswood.
+The size impressed it on his memory. He swung past the glade to make
+for the lake, a mile to the west, and twenty minutes later he started
+back as his eye rested on a huge black animal in the crotch of a
+hemlock, some thirty feet from the ground. A Bear! At last, this was
+the test of nerve he had half expected all summer; had been wondering
+how that mystery "himself" would act under this very trial. He stood
+still; his right hand dived into his pocket and, bringing out three or
+four buckshot, which he carried for emergency, he dropped them on top
+of the birdshot already in the gun, then rammed a wad to hold them down.
+
+The Bear had not moved and the boy could not see its head, but now he
+studied it carefully. It was not such a large one--no, it was a small
+one, yes, very small--a cub. A cub! That meant a mother Bear at hand,
+and Thor looked about with some fear, but seeing no signs of any except
+the little one, he levelled the gun and fired.
+
+Then to his surprise down crashed the animal quite dead; it was not a
+Bear, but a large Porcupine. As it lay there he examined it with wonder
+and regret, for he had no wish to kill such a harmless creature. On its
+grotesque face he found two or three long scratches which proved that
+he had not been its only enemy. As he turned away he noticed some blood
+on his trousers, then saw that his left hand was bleeding. He had
+wounded himself quite severely on the quills of the animal without
+knowing it. He was sorry to leave the specimen there, and Loo, when she
+learned of it, said it was a shame not to skin it when she "needed a
+fur-lined cape for the winter."
+
+On another day Thor had gone without a gun, as he meant only to gather
+some curious plants he had seen. They were close to the clearing; he
+knew the place by a fallen elm. As he came to it he heard a peculiar
+sound. Then on the log his eye caught two moving things. He lifted a
+bough and got a clear view. They were the head and tail of an enormous
+Lynx. It had seen him and was glaring and grumbling; and under its foot
+on the log was a white bird that a second glance showed to be one of
+their own precious hens. How fierce and cruel the brute looked! How
+Thor hated it! and fairly gnashed his teeth with disgust that now, when
+his greatest chance was come, he for once was without his gun. He was
+in not a little fear, too, and stood wondering what to do. The Lynx
+growled louder; its stumpy tail twitched viciously for a minute, then
+it picked up its victim, and leaping from the log was lost to view.
+
+As it was a very rainy summer, the ground was soft everywhere, and the
+young hunter was led to follow tracks that would have defied an expert
+in dryer times. One day he came on piglike footprints in the woods. He
+followed them with little difficulty, for they were new, and a heavy
+rain two hours before had washed out all other trails. After about half
+a mile they led him to an open ravine, and as he reached its brow he
+saw across it a flash of white; then his keen young eyes made out the
+forms of a Deer and a spotted Fawn gazing at him curiously. Though on
+their trail he was not a little startled. He gazed at them
+open-mouthed. The mother turned and raised the danger flag, her white
+tail, and bounded lightly away, to be followed by the youngster,
+clearing low trunks with an effortless leap, or bending down with
+catlike suppleness when they came to a log upraised so that they might
+pass below.
+
+He never again got a chance to shoot at them, though more than once he
+saw the same two tracks, or believed they were the same, as for some
+cause never yet explained, Deer were scarcer in that unbroken forest
+than they were in later years when clearings spread around.
+
+He never again saw them; but he saw the mother once--he thought it was
+the same--she was searching the woods with her nose, trying the ground
+for trails; she was nervous and anxious, evidently seeking. Thor
+remembered a trick that Corney had told him. He gently stooped, took up
+a broad blade of grass, laid it between the edges of his thumbs, then
+blowing through this simple squeaker he made a short, shrill bleat, a
+fair imitation of a Fawn's cry for the mother, and the Deer, though a
+long way off, came bounding toward him. He snatched his gun, meaning to
+kill her, but the movement caught her eye. She stopped. Her mane
+bristled a little; she sniffed and looked inquiringly at him. Her big
+soft eyes touched his heart, held back his hand; she took a cautious
+step nearer, got a full whiff of her mortal enemy, bounded behind a big
+tree and away before his merciful impulse was gone. "Poor thing," said
+Thor, "I believe she has lost her little one."
+
+Yet once more the Boy met a Lynx in the woods. Half an hour after
+seeing the lonely Deer he crossed the long ridge that lay some miles
+north of the shanty. He had passed the glade where the great basswood
+lay when a creature like a big bob-tailed Kitten appeared and looked
+innocently at him. His gun went up, as usual, but the Kitten merely
+cocked its head on one side and fearlessly surveyed him. Then a second
+one that he had not noticed before began to play with the first, pawing
+at its tail and inviting its brother to tussle.
+
+Thor's first thought to shoot was stayed as he watched their gambols,
+but the remembrance of his feud with their race came back. He had
+almost raised the gun when a fierce rumble close at hand gave him a
+start, and there, not ten feet from him, stood the old one, looking big
+and fierce as a Tigress. It was surely folly to shoot at the young ones
+now. The boy nervously dropped some buckshot on the charge while the
+snarling growl rose and fell, but before he was ready to shoot at her
+the old one had picked up something that was by her feet; the boy got a
+glimpse of rich brown with white spots--the limp form of a newly killed
+Fawn. Then she passed out of sight. The Kittens followed, and he saw
+her no more until the time when, life against life, they were weighed
+in the balance together.
+
+
+IV
+
+THE TERROR OF THE WOODS
+
+Six weeks had passed in daily routine when one day the young giant
+seemed unusually quiet as he went about. His handsome face was very
+sober and he sang not at all that morning.
+
+He and Thor slept on a hay-bunk in one corner of the main room, and
+that night the Boy awakened more than once to hear his companion
+groaning and tossing in his sleep. Corney arose as usual in the morning
+and fed the horses, but lay down again while the sisters got breakfast.
+He roused himself by an effort and went back to work, but came home
+early. He was trembling from head to foot. It was hot summer weather,
+but he could not be kept warm. After several hours a reaction set in
+and Corney was in a high fever. The family knew well now that he had
+the dreaded chills and fever of the backwoods. Margat went out and
+gathered a lapful of pipsissewa to make tea, of which Corney was
+encouraged to drink copiously.
+
+But in spite of all their herbs and nursing the young man got worse. At
+the end of ten days he was greatly reduced in flesh and incapable of
+work, so on one of the "well days" that are usual in the course of the
+disease he said:
+
+"Say, gurruls, I can't stand it no longer. Guess I better go home. I'm
+well enough to drive to-day, for a while anyway; if I'm took down I'll
+lay in the wagon, and the horses will fetch me home. Mother'll have me
+all right in a week or so. If you run out of grub before I come back
+take the canoe to Ellerton's."
+
+So the girls harnessed the horses; the wagon was partly filled with
+hay, and Corney, weak and white-faced, drove away on the long rough
+road, and left them feeling much as though they were on a desert island
+and their only boat had been taken from them.
+
+Half a week had scarcely gone before all three of them, Margat, Loo,
+and Thor, were taken down with a yet more virulent form of chills and
+fever.
+
+Corney had had every other a "well day," but with these three there
+were no "well days" and the house became an abode of misery.
+
+Seven days passed, and now Margat could not leave her bed and Loo was
+barely able to walk around the house. She was a brave girl with a fund
+of drollery which did much toward keeping up all their spirits, but her
+merriest jokes fell ghastly from her wan, pinched face. Thor, though
+weak and ill, was the strongest and did for the others, cooking and
+serving each day a simple meal, for they could eat very little,
+fortunately, perhaps, as there was very little, and Corney could not
+return for another week.
+
+Soon Thor was the only one able to rise, and one morning when he
+dragged himself to cut the little usual slice of their treasured bacon
+he found, to his horror, that the whole piece was gone. It had been
+stolen, doubtless by some wild animal, from the little box on the shady
+side of the house, where it was kept safe from flies. Now they were
+down to flour and tea. He was in despair, when his eye lighted on the
+Chickens about the stable; but what's the use? In his feeble state he
+might as well try to catch a Deer or a Hawk. Suddenly he remembered his
+gun and very soon was preparing a fat Hen for the pot. He boiled it
+whole as the easiest way to cook it, and the broth was the first really
+tempting food they had had for some time.
+
+They kept alive for three wretched days on that Chicken, and when it
+was finished Thor again took down his gun--it seemed a much heavier gun
+now. He crawled to the barn, but he was so weak and shaky that he
+missed several times before he brought down a fowl. Corney had taken
+the rifle away with him and three charges of gun ammunition were all
+that now remained.
+
+Thor was surprised to see how few Hens there were now, only three or
+four. There used to be over a dozen. Three days later he made another
+raid. He saw but one Hen and he used up his last ammunition to get that.
+
+His daily routine now was a monotony of horror. In the morning, which
+was his "well time," he prepared a little food for the household and
+got ready for the night of raging fever by putting a bucket of water on
+a block at the head of each bunk. About one o'clock, with fearful
+regularity, the chills would come on, with trembling from head to foot
+and chattering teeth, and cold, cold, within and without. Nothing
+seemed to give any warmth--fire seemed to have lost its power. There
+was nothing to do but to lie and shake and suffer all the slow torture
+of freezing to death and shaking to pieces. For six hours it would keep
+up, and to the torture, nausea lent its horrid aid throughout; then
+about seven or eight o'clock in the evening a change would come; a
+burning fever set in; no ice could have seemed cool to him then;
+water--water--was all he craved, and drank and drank until three or
+four in the morning, when the fever would abate, and a sleep of total
+exhaustion followed.
+
+"If you run out of food take the canoe to Ellerton's," was the
+brother's last word. Who was to take the canoe?
+
+There was but half a Chicken now between them and starvation, and no
+sign of Corney.
+
+For three interminable weeks the deadly program dragged along. It went
+on the same yet worse, as the sufferers grew weaker--a few days more
+and the Boy also would be unable to leave his couch. Then what?
+
+Despair was on the house and the silent cry of each was, "Oh, God! will
+Corney never come?"
+
+
+V
+
+THE HOME OF THE BOY
+
+On the day of that last Chicken, Thor was all morning carrying water
+enough for the coming three fevers. The chill attacked him sooner than
+it was due and his fever was worse than ever before.
+
+He drank deeply and often from the bucket at his head. He had filled
+it, and it was nearly emptied when about two in the morning the fever
+left him and he fell asleep.
+
+In the gray dawn he was awakened by a curious sound not far away--a
+splashing of water. He turned his head to see two glaring eyes within a
+foot of his face--a great Beast lapping the water in the bucket by his
+bed.
+
+Thor gazed in horror for a moment, then closed his eyes, sure that he
+was dreaming, certain that this was a nightmare of India with a Tiger
+by his couch; but the lapping continued. He looked up; yes, it still
+was there. He tried to find his voice but uttered only a gurgle. The
+great furry head quivered, a sniff came from below the shining
+eyeballs, and the creature, whatever it was, dropped to its front feet
+and went across the hut under the table. Thor was fully awake now; he
+rose slowly on his elbow and feebly shouted "Sssh-hi," at which the
+shining eyes reappeared under the table and the gray form came forth.
+Calmly it walked across the ground and glided under the lowest log at a
+place where an old potato pit left an opening and disappeared. What was
+it? The sick boy hardly knew--some savage Beast of prey, undoubtedly.
+He was totally unnerved. He shook with fear and a sense of
+helplessness, and the night passed in fitful sleep and sudden starts
+awake to search the gloom again for those fearful eyes and the great
+gray gliding form. In the morning he did not know whether it were not
+all a delirium, yet he made a feeble effort to close the old cellar
+hole with some firewood.
+
+The three had little appetite, but even that they restrained since now
+they were down to part of a Chicken, and Corney, evidently he supposed
+they had been to Ellerton's and got all the food they needed.
+
+Again that night, when the fever left him weak and dozing, Thor was
+awakened by a noise in the room, a sound of crunching bones. He looked
+around to see dimly outlined against the little window, the form of a
+large animal on the table. Thor shouted; he tried to hurl his boot at
+the intruder. It leaped lightly to the ground and passed out of the
+hole, again wide open.
+
+It was no dream this time, he knew, and the women knew it, too; not
+only had they heard the creature, but the Chicken, the last of their
+food, was wholly gone.
+
+Poor Thor barely left his couch that day. It needed all the querulous
+complaints of the sick women to drive him forth. Down by the spring he
+found a few berries and divided them with the others. He made his usual
+preparations for the chills and the thirst, but he added this--by the
+side of his couch he put an old fish-spear--the only weapon he could
+find, now the gun was useless--a pine-root candle and some matches. He
+knew the Beast was coming back again--was coming hungry. It would find
+no food; what more natural, he thought, than take the living prey lying
+there so helpless? And a vision came of the limp brown form of the
+little Fawn, borne off in those same cruel jaws.
+
+Once again he barricaded the hole with firewood, and the night passed
+as usual, but without any fierce visitor. Their food that day was flour
+and water, and to cook it Thor was forced to use some of his barricade.
+Loo attempted some feeble joke, guessed she was light enough to fly now
+and tried to rise, but she got no farther than the edge of the bunk.
+The same preparations were made, and the night wore on, but early in
+the morning, Thor was again awakened rudely by the sound of lapping
+water by his bed, and there, as before, were the glowing eyeballs, the
+great head, the gray form relieved by the dim light from the dawning
+window.
+
+Thor put all his strength into what was meant for a bold shout, but it
+was merely a feeble screech. He rose slowly and called out: "Loo,
+Margat! The Lynx--here's the Lynx again!"
+
+"May God help ye, for we can't," was the answer.
+
+"Sssh-hi!" Thor tried again to drive the Beast away. It leaped on to
+the table by the window and stood up growling under the useless gun.
+Thor thought it was going to leap through the glass as it faced the
+window a moment; but it turned and glared toward the Boy, for he could
+see both eyes shining. He rose slowly to the side of his bunk and he
+prayed for help, for he felt it was kill or be killed. He struck a
+match and lighted his pine-root candle, held that in his left hand and
+in his right took the old fish-spear, meaning to fight, but he was so
+weak he had to use the fish-spear as a crutch. The great Beast stood on
+the table still, but was crouching a little as though for a spring. Its
+eyes glowed red in the torchlight. Its short tail was switching from
+side to side and its growling took a higher pitch. Thor's knees were
+smiting together, but he levelled the spear and made a feeble lunge
+toward the brute. It sprang at the same moment, not at him, as he first
+thought--the torch and the boy's bold front had had effect--it went
+over his head to drop on the ground beyond and at once to slink under
+the bunk.
+
+This was only a temporary repulse. Thor set the torch on a ledge of the
+logs, then took the spear in both hands. He was fighting for his life,
+and he knew it. He heard the voices of the women feebly praying. He saw
+only the glowing eyes under the bed and heard the growling in higher
+pitch as the Beast was nearing action. He steadied himself by a great
+effort and plunged the spear with all the force he could give it.
+
+It struck something softer than the logs: a hideous snarl came forth.
+The boy threw all his weight on the weapon; the Beast was struggling to
+get at him; he felt its teeth and claws grating on the handle, and in
+spite of himself it was coming on; its powerful arms and claws were
+reaching for him now; he could not hold out long. He put on all his
+force, just a little more it was than before; the Beast lurched, there
+was a growling, a crack, and a sudden yielding; the rotten old
+spear-head had broken off, the Beast sprang out--at him--past
+him--never touched him, but across through the hole and away, to be
+seen no more.
+
+Thor fell on the bed and lost all consciousness.
+
+He lay there he knew not how long, but was awakened in broad daylight
+by a loud, cheery voice:
+
+"Hello! Hello!--are ye all dead? Loo! Thor! Margat!"
+
+He had no strength to answer, but there was a trampling of horses
+outside, a heavy step, the door was forced open, and in strode Corney,
+handsome and hearty as ever. But what a flash of horror and pain came
+over his face on entering the silent shanty!
+
+"Dead?" he gasped. "Who's dead--where are you? Thor?" Then, "Who is it?
+Loo? Margat?"
+
+"Corney--Corney," came feebly from the bunk. "They're in there. They're
+awful sick. We have nothing to eat."
+
+"Oh, what a fool I be!" said Corney again and again. "I made sure ye'd
+go to Ellerton's and get all ye wanted."
+
+"We had no chance, Corney; we were all three brought down at once,
+right after you left. Then the Lynx came and cleared up the Hens, and
+all in the house, too."
+
+"Well, ye got even with her," and Corney pointed to the trail of blood
+across the mud floor and out under the logs.
+
+Good food, nursing, and medicine restored them all.
+
+A month or two later, when the women wanted a new leaching-barrel, Thor
+said: "I know where there is a hollow basswood as big as a hogshead."
+
+He and Corney went to the place, and when they cut off what they
+needed, they found in the far end of it the dried-up bodies of two
+little Lynxes with that of the mother, and in the side of the old one
+was the head of a fish-spear broken from the handle.
+
+
+
+
+LITTLE WARHORSE
+
+The History of a Jack-rabbit
+
+The Little Warhorse knew practically all the Dogs in town. First, there
+was a very large brown Dog that had pursued him many times, a Dog that
+he always got rid of by slipping through a hole in a board fence.
+Second, there was a small active Dog that could follow through that
+hole, and him he baffled by leaping a twenty-foot irrigation ditch that
+had steep sides and a swift current. The Dog could not make this leap.
+It was "sure medicine" for that foe, and the boys still call the place
+"Old Jacky's Jump." But there was a Greyhound that could leap better
+than the Jack, and when he could not follow through a fence, he jumped
+over it. He tried the Warhorse's mettle more than once, and Jacky only
+saved himself by his quick dodging, till they got to an Osage hedge,
+and here the Greyhound had to give it up. Besides these, there was in
+town a rabble of big and little Dogs that were troublesome, but easily
+left behind in the open.
+
+In the country there was a Dog at each farm-house, but only one that
+the Warhorse really feared; that was a long-legged, fierce, black Dog,
+a brute so swift and pertinacious that he had several times forced the
+Warhorse almost to the last extremity.
+
+For the town Cats he cared little; only once or twice had he been
+threatened by them. A huge Tom-cat flushed with many victories came
+crawling up to where he fed one moonlight night. Jack Warhorse saw the
+black creature with the glowing eyes, and a moment before the final
+rush, he faced it, raised up on his haunches,--his hind legs,--at full
+length on his toes,--with his broad ears towering up yet six inches
+higher; then letting out a loud churrr-churrr, his best attempt at a
+roar, he sprang five feet forward and landed on the Cat's head, driving
+in his sharp hind nails, and the old Tom fled in terror from the weird
+two-legged giant. This trick he had tried several times with success,
+but twice it turned out a sad failure: once, when the Cat proved to be
+a mother whose Kittens were near; then Jack Warhorse had to flee for
+his life; and the other time was when he made the mistake of landing
+hard on a Skunk.
+
+But the Greyhound was the dangerous enemy, and in him the Warhorse
+might have found his fate, but for a curious adventure with a happy
+ending for Jack.
+
+He fed by night; there were fewer enemies about then, and it was easier
+to hide; but one day at dawn in winter he had lingered long at an
+alfalfa stack and was crossing the open snow toward his favorite form,
+when, as ill-luck would have it, he met the Greyhound prowling outside
+the town. With open snow and growing daylight there was no chance to
+hide, nothing but a run in the open with soft snow that hindered the
+Jack more than it did the Hound.
+
+Off they went--superb runners in fine fettle. How they skimmed across
+the snow, raising it in little puff-puff-puffs, each time their nimble
+feet went down. This way and that, swerving and dodging, went the
+chase. Everything favored the Dog,--his empty stomach, the cold
+weather, the soft snow,--while the Rabbit was handicapped by his heavy
+meal of alfalfa. But his feet went puff--puff so fast that a dozen of
+the little snow-jets were in view at once. The chase continued in the
+open; no friendly hedge was near, and every attempt to reach a fence
+was cleverly stopped by the Hound. Jack's ears were losing their bold
+up-cock, a sure sign of failing heart or wind, when all at once these
+flags went stiffly up, as under sudden renewal of strength. The
+Warhorse put forth all his power, not to reach the hedge to the north,
+but over the open prairie eastward. The Greyhound followed, and within
+fifty yards the Jack dodged to foil his fierce pursuer; but on the next
+tack he was on his eastern course again, and so tacking and dodging, he
+kept the line direct for the next farm-house, where was a very high
+board fence with a hen-hole, and where also there dwelt his other hated
+enemy, the big black Dog. An outer hedge delayed the Greyhound for a
+moment and gave Jack time to dash through the hen-hole into the yard,
+where he hid to one side. The Greyhound rushed around to the low gate,
+leaped over that among the Hens, and as they fled cackling and
+fluttering, some Lambs bleated loudly. Their natural guardian, the big
+black Dog, ran to the rescue, and Warhorse slipped out again by the
+hole at which he had entered. Horrible sounds of Dog hate and fury were
+heard behind him in the hen-yard, and soon the shouts of men were
+added. How it ended he did not know or seek to learn, but it was
+remarkable that he never afterward was troubled by the swift Greyhound
+that formerly lived in Newchusen.
+
+
+II
+
+Hard times and easy times had long followed in turn and been taken as
+matters of course; but recent years in the State of Kaskado had brought
+to the Jack-rabbits a succession of remarkable ups and downs. In the
+old days they had their endless fight with Birds and Beasts of Prey,
+with cold and heat, with pestilence and with flies whose sting bred a
+loathsome disease, and yet had held their own. But the settling of the
+country by farmers made many changes.
+
+Dogs and guns arriving in numbers reduced the ranks of Coyotes, Foxes,
+Wolves, Badgers, and Hawks that preyed on the Jack, so that in a few
+years the Rabbits were multiplied in great swarms; but now Pestilence
+broke out and swept them away. Only the strongest--the
+double-seasoned--remained. For a while a Jack-rabbit was a rarity; but
+during this time another change came in. The Osage-orange hedges
+planted everywhere afforded a new refuge, and now the safety of a
+Jack-rabbit was less often his speed than his wits, and the wise ones,
+when pursued by a Dog or Coyote, would rush to the nearest hedge
+through a small hole and escape while the enemy sought for a larger one
+by which to follow. The Coyotes rose to this and developed the trick of
+the relay chase. In this one Coyote takes one field, another the next,
+and if the Rabbit attempts the "hedge-ruse" they work from each side
+and usually win their prey. The Rabbit remedy for this, is keen eyes to
+see the second Coyote, avoidance of that field, then good legs to
+distance the first enemy.
+
+Thus the Jack-rabbits, after being successively numerous, scarce, in
+myriads, and rare, were now again on the increase, and those which
+survived, selected by a hundred hard trials, were enabled to flourish
+where their ancestors could not have outlived a single season.
+
+Their favorite grounds were, not the broad open stretches of the big
+ranches, but the complicated, much-fenced fields of the farms, where
+these were so small and close as to be like a big straggling village.
+
+One of these vegetable villages had sprung up around the railway
+station of Newchusen. The country a mile away was well supplied with
+Jack-rabbits of the new and selected stock. Among them was a little
+lady Rabbit called "Bright-eyes," from her leading characteristic as
+she sat gray in the gray brush. She was a good runner, but was
+especially successful with the fence-play that baffled the Coyotes. She
+made her nest out in an open pasture, an untouched tract of the ancient
+prairie. Here her brood were born and raised. One like herself was
+bright-eyed, in coat of silver-gray, and partly gifted with her ready
+wits, but in the other, there appeared a rare combination of his
+mother's gifts with the best that was in the best strain of the new
+Jack-rabbits of the plains.
+
+This was the one whose adventures we have been following, the one that
+later on the turf won the name of Little Warhorse and that afterward
+achieved a world-wide fame.
+
+Ancient tricks of his kind he revived and put to new uses, and ancient
+enemies he learned to fight with new-found tricks.
+
+When a mere baby he discovered a plan that was worthy of the wisest
+Rabbit in Kaskado. He was pursued by a horrible little Yellow Dog, and
+he had tried in vain to get rid of him by dodging among the fields and
+farms. This is good play against a Coyote, because the farmers and the
+Dogs will often help the Jack, without knowing it, by attacking the
+Coyote. But now the plan did not work at all, for the little Dog
+managed to keep after him through one fence after another, and Jack
+Warhorse, not yet full-grown, much less seasoned, was beginning to feel
+the strain. His ears were no longer up straight, but angling back and
+at times drooping to a level, as he darted through a very little hole
+in an Osage hedge, only to find that his nimble enemy had done the same
+without loss of time. In the middle of the field was a small herd of
+cattle and with them a calf.
+
+There is in wild animals a curious impulse to trust any stranger when
+in desperate straits. The foe behind they know means death. There is
+just a chance, and the only one left, that the stranger may prove
+friendly; and it was this last desperate chance that drew Jack Warhorse
+to the Cows.
+
+It is quite sure that the Cows would have stood by in stolid
+indifference so far as the Rabbit was concerned, but they have a
+deep-rooted hatred of a dog, and when they saw the Yellow Cur coming
+bounding toward them, their tails and noses went up; they sniffed
+angrily, then closed up ranks, and led by the Cow that owned the Calf,
+they charged at the Dog, while Jack took refuge under a low thorn-bush.
+The Dog swerved aside to attack the Calf, at least the old Cow thought
+he did, and she followed him so fiercely that he barely escaped from
+that field with his life.
+
+It was a good old plan--one that doubtless came from the days when
+Buffalo and Coyote played the parts of Cow and Dog. Jack never forgot
+it, and more than once it saved his life.
+
+In color as well as in power he was a rarity.
+
+Animals are colored in one or other of two general plans: one that
+matches them with their surroundings and helps them to hide--this is
+called "protective"; the other that makes them very visible for several
+purposes--this is called "directive." Jack-rabbits are peculiar in
+being painted both ways. As they squat in their form in the gray brush
+or clods, they are soft gray on their ears, head, back, and sides; they
+match the ground and cannot be seen until close at hand--they are
+protectively colored. But the moment it is clear to the Jack that the
+approaching foe will find him, he jumps up and dashes away. He throws
+off all disguise now, the gray seems to disappear; he makes a lightning
+change, and his ears show snowy white with black tips, the legs are
+white, his tail is a black spot in a blaze of white. He is a
+black-and-white Rabbit now. His coloring is all directive. How is it
+done? Very simply. The front side of the ear is gray, the back, black
+and white. The black tail with its white halo, and the legs, are tucked
+below. He is sitting on them. The gray mantle is pulled down and
+enlarged as he sits, but when he jumps up it shrinks somewhat, all his
+black-and-white marks are now shown, and just as his colors formerly
+whispered, "I am a clod," they now shout aloud, "I am a Jack-rabbit."
+
+Why should he do this? Why should a timid creature running for his life
+thus proclaim to all the world his name instead of trying to hide?
+There must be some good reason. It must pay, or the Rabbit would never
+have done it.
+
+The answer is, if the creature that scared him up was one of his own
+kind--i.e., this was a false alarm--then at once, by showing his
+national colors, the mistake is made right. On the other hand, if it be
+a Coyote, Fox, or Dog, they see at once, this is a Jack-rabbit, and
+know that it would be waste of time for them to pursue him. They say in
+effect, "This is a Jack-rabbit, and I cannot catch a Jack in open
+race." They give it up, and that, of course, saves the Jack a great
+deal of unnecessary running and worry. The black-and-white spots are
+the national uniform and flag of the Jacks. In poor specimens they are
+apt to be dull, but in the finest specimens they are not only larger,
+but brighter than usual, and the Little Warhorse, gray when he sat in
+his form, blazed like charcoal and snow, when he flung his defiance to
+the Fox and buff Coyote, and danced with little effort before them,
+first a black-and-white Jack, then a little white spot, and last a
+speck of thistledown, before the distance swallowed him.
+
+Many of the farmers' Dogs had learned the lesson: "A grayish Rabbit you
+may catch, but a very black-and-white one is hopeless." They might,
+indeed, follow for a time, but that was merely for the fun of a chivvy,
+and his growing power often led Warhorse to seek the chase for the sake
+of a little excitement, and to take hazards that others less gifted
+were most careful to avoid.
+
+Jack, like all other wild animals, had a certain range or country which
+was home to him, and outside of this he rarely strayed. It was about
+three miles across, extending easterly from the centre of the village.
+Scattered through this he had a number of "forms," or "beds" as they
+are locally called. These were mere hollows situated under a sheltering
+bush or bunch of grass, without lining excepting the accidental grass
+and in-blown leaves. But comfort was not forgotten. Some of them were
+for hot weather; they faced the north, were scarcely sunk, were little
+more than shady places. Some for the cold weather were deep hollows
+with southern exposure, and others for the wet were well roofed with
+herbage and faced the west. In one or other of these he spent the day,
+and at night he went forth to feed with his kind, sporting and romping
+on the moonlight nights like a lot of puppy Dogs, but careful to be
+gone by sunrise, and safely tucked in a bed that was suited to the
+weather.
+
+The safest ground for the Jacks was among the farms, where not only
+Osage hedges, but also the newly arrived barb-wire, made hurdles and
+hazards in the path of possible enemies. But the finest of the forage
+is nearer to the village among the truck-farms--the finest of forage
+and the fiercest of dangers. Some of the dangers of the plains were
+lacking, but the greater perils of men, guns, Dogs, and impassable
+fences are much increased. Yet those who knew Warhorse best were not at
+all surprised to find that he had made a form in the middle of a
+market-gardener's melon-patch. A score of dangers beset him here, but
+there was also a score of unusual delights and a score of holes in the
+fence for times when he had to fly, with at least twoscore of
+expedients to help him afterward.
+
+
+III
+
+Newchusen was a typical Western town. Everywhere in it, were to be seen
+strenuous efforts at uglification, crowned with unmeasured success. The
+streets were straight level lanes without curves or beauty-spots. The
+houses were cheap and mean structures of flimsy boards and tar paper,
+and not even honest in their ugliness, for each of them was pretending
+to be something better than itself. One had a false front to make it
+look like two stories, another was of imitation brick, a third
+pretended to be a marble temple.
+
+But all agreed in being the ugliest things ever used as human
+dwellings, and in each could be read the owner's secret thought--to
+stand it for a year or so, then move out somewhere else. The only
+beauties of the place, and those unintentional, were the long lines of
+hand-planted shade-trees, uglified as far as possible with whitewashed
+trunks and croppy heads, but still lovable, growing, living things.
+
+The only building in town with a touch of picturesqueness was the grain
+elevator. It was not posing as a Greek temple or a Swiss chalet, but
+simply a strong, rough, honest, grain elevator. At the end of each
+street was a vista of the prairie, with its farm-houses, windmill
+pumps, and long lines of Osage-orange hedges. Here at least was
+something of interest--the gray-green hedges, thick, sturdy, and high,
+were dotted with their golden mock-oranges, useless fruit, but more
+welcome here than rain in a desert; for these balls were things of
+beauty, and swung on their long tough boughs they formed with the soft
+green leaves a color-chord that pleased the weary eye.
+
+Such a town is a place to get out of, as soon as possible, so thought
+the traveller who found himself laid over here for two days in late
+winter. He asked after the sights of the place. A white Muskrat stuffed
+in a case "down to the saloon"; old Baccy Bullin, who had been scalped
+by the Indians forty years ago; and a pipe once smoked by Kit Carson,
+proved unattractive, so he turned toward the prairie, still white with
+snow.
+
+A mark among the numerous Dog tracks caught his eye: it was the track
+of a large Jack-rabbit. He asked a passer-by if there were any Rabbits
+in town.
+
+"No, I reckon not. I never seen none," was the answer. A mill-hand gave
+the same reply, but a small boy with a bundle of newspapers said: "You
+bet there is; there's lots of them out there on the prairie, and they
+come in town a-plenty. Why, there's a big, big feller lives right round
+Si Kalb's melon-patch--oh, an awful big feller, and just as black and
+as white as checkers!" and thus he sent the stranger eastward on his
+walk.
+
+The "big, big, awful big one" was the Little Warhorse himself. He
+didn't live in Kalb's melon-patch; he was there only at odd times. He
+was not there now; he was in his west-fronting form or bed, because a
+raw east wind was setting in. It was due east of Madison Avenue, and as
+the stranger plodded that way the Rabbit watched him. As long as the
+man kept the road the Jack was quiet, but the road turned shortly to
+the north, and the man by chance left it and came straight on. Then the
+Jack saw trouble ahead. The moment the man left the beaten track, he
+bounded from his form, and wheeling, he sailed across the prairie due
+east.
+
+A Jack-rabbit running from its enemy ordinarily covers eight or nine
+feet at a bound, and once in five or six bounds, it makes an
+observation hop, leaping not along, but high in the air, so as to get
+above all herbage and bushes and take in the situation. A silly young
+Jack will make an observation hop as often as one in four, and so waste
+a great deal of time. A clever Jack will make one hop in eight or nine,
+do for observation. But Jack Warhorse as he sped, got all the
+information he needed, in one hop out of a dozen, while ten to fourteen
+feet were covered by each of his flying bounds. Yet another personal
+peculiarity showed in the trail he left. When a Cottontail or a
+Wood-hare runs, his tail is curled up tight on his back, and does not
+touch the snow. When a Jack runs, his tail hangs downward or backward,
+with the tip curved or straight, according to the individual; in some,
+it points straight down, and so, often leaves a little stroke behind
+the foot-marks. The Warhorse's tail of shining black, was of unusual
+length, and at every bound, it left in the snow, a long stroke, so long
+that that alone was almost enough to tell which Rabbit had made the
+track.
+
+Now some Rabbits seeing only a man without any Dog would have felt
+little fear, but Warhorse, remembering some former stinging experiences
+with a far-killer, fled when the foe was seventy-five yards away, and
+skimming low, he ran southeast to a fence that ran easterly. Behind
+this he went like a low-flying Hawk, till a mile away he reached
+another of his beds; and here, after an observation taken as he stood
+on his heels, he settled again to rest.
+
+But not for long. In twenty minutes his great megaphone ears, so close
+to the ground, caught a regular sound--crunch, crunch, crunch--the
+tramp of a human foot, and he started up to see the man with the
+shining stick in his hand, now drawing near.
+
+Warhorse bounded out and away for the fence. Never once did he rise to
+a "spy-hop" till the wire and rails were between him and his foe, an
+unnecessary precaution as it chanced, for the man was watching the
+trail and saw nothing of the Rabbit.
+
+Jack skimmed along, keeping low and looking out for other enemies. He
+knew now that the man was on his track, and the old instinct born of
+ancestral trouble with Weasels was doubtless what prompted him to do
+the double trail. He ran in a long, straight course to a distant fence,
+followed its far side for fifty yards, then doubling back he retraced
+his trail and ran off in a new direction till he reached another of his
+dens or forms. He had been out all night and was very ready to rest,
+now that the sun was ablaze on the snow; but he had hardly got the
+place a little warmed when the "tramp, tramp, tramp" announced the
+enemy, and he hurried away.
+
+After a half-a-mile run he stopped on a slight rise and marked the man
+still following, so he made a series of wonderful quirks in his trail,
+a succession of blind zigzags that would have puzzled most trailers;
+then running a hundred yards past a favorite form, he returned to it
+from the other side, and settled to rest, sure that now the enemy would
+be finally thrown off the scent.
+
+It was slower than before, but still it came--"tramp, tramp, tramp."
+
+Jack awoke, but sat still. The man tramped by on the trail one hundred
+yards in front of him, and as he went on, Jack sprang out unseen,
+realizing that this was an unusual occasion needing a special effort.
+They had gone in a vast circle around the home range of the Warhorse
+and now were less than a mile from the farm-house of the black Dog.
+There was that wonderful board fence with the happily planned hen-hole.
+It was a place of good memory--here more than once he had won, here
+especially he had baffled the Greyhound.
+
+These doubtless were the motive thoughts rather than any plan of
+playing one enemy against another, and Warhorse bounded openly across
+the snow to the fence of the big black Dog.
+
+The hen-hole was shut, and Warhorse, not a little puzzled, sneaked
+around to find another, without success, until, around the front, here
+was the gate wide open, and inside lying on some boards was the big
+Dog, fast asleep. The Hens were sitting hunched up in the warmest
+corner of the yard. The house Cat was gingerly picking her way from
+barn to kitchen, as Warhorse halted in the gateway.
+
+The black form of his pursuer was crawling down the far white prairie
+slope. Jack hopped quietly into the yard. A long-legged Rooster, that
+ought to have minded his own business, uttered a loud cackle as he saw
+the Rabbit hopping near. The Dog lying in the sun raised his head and
+stood up, and Jack's peril was dire. He squatted low and turned himself
+into a gray clod. He did it cleverly, but still might have been lost
+but for the Cat. Unwittingly, unwillingly, she saved him. The black Dog
+had taken three steps toward the Warhorse, though he did not know the
+Rabbit was there, and was now blocking the only way of escape from the
+yard, when the Cat came round the corner of the house, and leaping to a
+window-ledge brought a flower-pot rolling down. By that single awkward
+act she disturbed the armed neutrality existing between herself and the
+Dog. She fled to the barn, and of course a flying foe is all that is
+needed to send a Dog on the war-path. They passed within thirty feet of
+the crouching Rabbit. As soon as they were well gone, Jack turned, and
+with-out even a "Thank you, Pussy," he fled to the open and away on the
+hard-beaten road.
+
+The Cat had been rescued by the lady of the house; the Dog was once
+more sprawling on the boards when the man on Jack's trail arrived. He
+carried, not a gun, but a stout stick, sometimes called "dog-medicine,"
+and that was all that prevented the Dog attacking the enemy of his prey.
+
+This seemed to be the end of the trail. The trick, whether planned or
+not, was a success, and the Rabbit got rid of his troublesome follower.
+
+Next day the stranger made another search for the Jack and found, not
+himself, but his track. He knew it by its tail-mark, its long leaps and
+few spy-hops, but with it and running by it was the track of a smaller
+Rabbit. Here is where they met, here they chased each other in play,
+for no signs of battle were there to be seen; here they fed or sat
+together in the sun, there they ambled side by side, and here again
+they sported in the snow, always together. There was only one
+conclusion: this was the mating season. This was a pair of
+Jack-rabbits--the Little Warhorse and his mate.
+
+
+IV
+
+Next summer was a wonderful year for the Jack-rabbits. A foolish law
+had set a bounty on Hawks and Owls and had caused a general massacre of
+these feathered policemen. Consequently the Rabbits had multiplied in
+such numbers that they now were threatening to devastate the country.
+
+The farmers, who were the sufferers from the bounty law, as well as the
+makers of it, decided on a great Rabbit drive. All the county was
+invited to come, on a given morning, to the main road north of the
+county, with the intention of sweeping the whole region up-wind and at
+length driving the Rabbits into a huge corral of close wire netting.
+Dogs were barred as unmanageable, and guns as dangerous in a crowd; but
+every man and boy carried a couple of long sticks and a bag full of
+stones. Women came on horseback and in buggies; many carried rattles or
+horns and tins to make a noise. A number of the buggies trailed a
+string of old cans or tied laths to scrape on the wheel-spokes, and
+thus add no little to the deafening clatter of the drive. As Rabbits
+have marvellously sensitive hearing, a noise that is distracting to
+mankind, is likely to prove bewildering to them.
+
+The weather was right, and at eight in the morning the word to advance
+was given. The line was about five miles long at first, and there was a
+man or a boy every thirty or forty yards. The buggies and riders kept
+perforce almost entirely to the roads; but the beaters were supposed,
+as a point of honor, to face everything, and keep the front unbroken.
+The advance was roughly in three sides of a square. Each man made as
+much noise as he could, and threshed every bush in his path. A number
+of Rabbits hopped out. Some made for the lines, to be at once assailed
+by a shower of stones that laid many of them low. One or two did get
+through and escaped, but the majority were swept before the drive. At
+first the number seen was small, but before three miles were covered
+the Rabbits were running ahead in every direction. After five
+miles--and that took about three hours--the word for the wings to close
+in was given. The space between the men was shortened up till they were
+less than ten feet apart, and the whole drive converged on the corral
+with its two long guide wings or fences; the end lines joined these
+wings, and the surround was complete. The drivers marched rapidly now;
+scores of the Rabbits were killed as they ran too near the beaters.
+Their bodies strewed the ground, but the swarms seemed to increase; and
+in the final move, before the victims were cooped up in the corral, the
+two-acre space surrounded was a whirling throng of skurrying, jumping,
+bounding Rabbits. Round and round they circled and leaped, looking for
+a chance to escape; but the inexorable crowd grew thicker as the ring
+grew steadily smaller, and the whole swarm was forced along the chute
+into the tight corral, some to squat stupidly in the middle, some to
+race round the outer wall, some to seek hiding in corners or under each
+other.
+
+And the Little Warhorse--where was he in all this? The drive had swept
+him along, and he had been one of the first to enter the corral. But a
+curious plan of selection had been established. The pen was to be a
+death-trap for the Rabbits, except the best, the soundest. And many
+were there that were unsound; those that think of all wild animals as
+pure and perfect things, would have been shocked to see how many halt,
+maimed, and diseased there were in that pen of four thousand or five
+thousand Jack-rabbits.
+
+It was a Roman victory--the rabble of prisoners was to be butchered.
+The choicest were to be reserved for the arena. The arena? Yes, that is
+the Coursing Park.
+
+In that corral trap, prepared beforehand for the Rabbits, were a number
+of small boxes along the wall, a whole series of them, five hundred at
+least, each large enough to hold one Jack.
+
+In the last rush of driving, the swiftest Jacks got first to the pen.
+Some were swift and silly; when once inside they rushed wildly round
+and round. Some were swift and wise; they quickly sought the hiding
+afforded by the little boxes; all of these were now full. Thus five
+hundred of the swiftest and wisest had been selected, in, not by any
+means an infallible way, but the simplest and readiest. These five
+hundred were destined to be coursed by Greyhounds. The surging mass of
+over four thousand were ruthlessly given to slaughter.
+
+Five hundred little boxes with five hundred bright-eyed Jack-rabbits
+were put on the train that day, and among them was Little Jack Warhorse.
+
+
+V
+
+Rabbits take their troubles lightly, and it is not to be supposed that
+any great terror was felt by the boxed Jacks, once the uproar of the
+massacre was over; and when they reached the Coursing Park near the
+great city and were turned out one by one, very gently,--yes, gently;
+the Roman guards were careful of their prisoners, being responsible for
+them,--the Jacks found little to complain of, a big inclosure with
+plenty of good food, and no enemies to annoy them.
+
+The very next morning their training began. A score of hatchways were
+opened into a much larger field--the Park. After a number of Jacks had
+wandered out through these doors a rabble of boys appeared and drove
+them back, pursuing them noisily until all were again in the smaller
+field, called the Haven. A few days of this taught the Jack-rabbits
+that when pursued their safety was to get back by one of the hatches
+into the Haven.
+
+Now the second lesson began. The whole band were driven out of a side
+door into a long lane which led around three sides of the Park to
+another inclosure at the far end. This was the Starting Pen. Its door
+into the arena--that is, the Park--was opened, the Rabbits driven
+forth, and then a mob of boys and Dogs in hiding, burst forth and
+pursued them across the open. The whole army went bobbing and bounding
+away, some of the younger ones soaring in a spy-hop, as a matter of
+habit; but low skimming ahead of them all was a gorgeous
+black-and-white one; clean-limbed and bright-eyed, he had attracted
+attention in the pen, but now in the field he led the band with easy
+lope that put him as far ahead of them all as they were ahead of the
+rabble of common Dogs.
+
+"Luk at thot, would ye--but ain't he a Little Warhorse?" shouted a
+villainous-looking Irish stable-boy, and thus he was named. When
+halfway across the course the Jacks remembered the Haven, and all swept
+toward it and in like a snow-cloud over the drifts.
+
+This was the second lesson--to lead straight for the Haven as soon as
+driven from the Pen. In a week all had learned it, and were ready for
+the great opening meet of the Coursing Club.
+
+The Little Warhorse was now well known to the grooms and hangers-on;
+his colors usually marked him clearly, and his leadership was in a
+measure recognized by the long-eared herd that fled with him. He
+figured more or less with the Dogs in the talk and betting of the men.
+
+"Wonder if old Dignam is going to enter Minkie this year?"
+
+"Faix, an' if he does I bet the Little Warhorse will take the gimp out
+av her an' her runnin' mate."
+
+"I'll bet three to one that my old Jen will pick the Warhorse up before
+he passes the grand stand," growled a dog-man.
+
+"An' it's meself will take thot bet in dollars," said Mickey, "an',
+moore than thot, Oi'll put up a hull month's stuff thot there ain't a
+dog in the mate thot kin turrn the Warrhorrse oncet on the hull coorse."
+
+So they wrangled and wagered, but each day, as they put the Rabbits
+through their paces, there were more of those who believed that they
+had found a wonderful runner in the Warhorse, one that would give the
+best Greyhounds something that is rarely seen, a straight stern chase
+from Start to Grand Stand and Haven.
+
+
+VI
+
+The first morning of the meet arrived bright and promising. The Grand
+Stand was filled with a city crowd. The usual types of a racecourse
+appeared in force. Here and there were to be seen the dog-grooms
+leading in leash single Greyhounds or couples, shrouded in blankets,
+but showing their sinewy legs, their snaky necks, their shapely heads
+with long reptilian jaws, and their quick, nervous yellow eyes--hybrids
+of natural force and human ingenuity, the most wonderful
+running-machines ever made of flesh and blood. Their keepers guarded
+them like jewels, tended them like babies, and were careful to keep
+them from picking up odd eatables, as well as prevent them smelling
+unusual objects or being approached by strangers. Large sums were
+wagered on these Dogs, and a cunningly placed tack, a piece of doctored
+meat, yes, an artfully compounded smell, has been known to turn a
+superb young runner into a lifeless laggard, and to the owner this
+might spell ruin. The Dogs entered in each class are paired off, as
+each contest is supposed to be a duel; the winners in the first series
+are then paired again. In each trial, a Jack is driven from the
+Starting-pen; close by in one leash are the rival Dogs, held by the
+slipper. As soon as the Hare is well away, the man has to get the Dogs
+evenly started and slip them together. On the field is the judge,
+scarlet-coated and well mounted. He follows the chase. The Hare,
+mindful of his training, speeds across the open, toward the Haven, in
+full view of the Grand Stand. The Dogs follow the Jack. As the first
+one comes near enough to be dangerous, the Hare balks him by dodging.
+Each time the Hare is turned, scores for the Dog that did it, and a
+final point is made by the kill.
+
+Sometimes the kill takes place within one hundred yards of the
+start--that means a poor Jack; mostly it happens in front of the Grand
+Stand; but on rare occasions it chances that the Jack goes sailing
+across the open Park a good half-mile and, by dodging for time, runs to
+safety in the Haven. Four finishes are possible: a speedy kill; a
+speedy winning of the Haven; new Dogs to relieve the first runners, who
+would suffer heart-collapse in the terrific strain of their pace, if
+kept up many minutes in hot weather; and finally, for Rabbits that by
+continued dodging defy and jeopardize the Dogs, and yet do not win the
+Haven, there is kept a loaded shotgun.
+
+There is just as much jockeying at a Kaskado coursing as at a Kaskado
+horse-race, just as many attempts at fraud, and it is just as necessary
+to have the judge and slipper beyond suspicion.
+
+The day before the next meet a man of diamonds saw Irish Mickey--by
+chance. A cigar was all that visibly passed, but it had a green wrapper
+that was slipped off before lighting. Then a word: "If you wuz slipper
+to-morrow and it so came about that Dignam's Minkie gets done,
+wall,--it means another cigar."
+
+"Faix, an' if I wuz slipper I could load the dice so Minkie would flyer
+score a p'int, but her runnin' mate would have the same bad luck."
+
+"That so?" The diamond man looked interested. "All right--fix it so; it
+means two cigars."
+
+Slipper Slyman had always dealt on the square, had scorned many
+approaches--that was well known. Most believed in him, but there were
+some malcontents, and when a man with many gold seals approached the
+Steward and formulated charges, serious and well-backed, they must
+perforce suspend the slipper pending an inquiry, and thus Mickey Doo
+reigned in his stead.
+
+Mickey was poor and not over-scrupulous. Here was a chance to make a
+year's pay in a minute, nothing wrong about it, no harm to the Dog or
+the Rabbit either.
+
+One Jack-rabbit is much like another. Everybody knows that; it was
+simply a question of choosing your Jack.
+
+The preliminaries were over. Fifty Jacks had been run and killed.
+Mickey had done his work satisfactorily; a fair slip had been given to
+every leash. He was still in command as slipper. Now came the final for
+the cup--the cup and the large stakes.
+
+
+VII
+
+There were the slim and elegant Dogs awaiting their turn. Minkie and
+her rival were first. Everything had been fair so far, and who can say
+that what followed was unfair? Mickey could turn out which Jack he
+pleased.
+
+"Number three!" he called to his partner.
+
+Out leaped the Little Warhorse,--black and white his great ears, easy
+and low his five-foot bounds; gazing wildly at the unwonted crowd about
+the Park, he leaped high in one surprising spy-hop.
+
+"Hrrrrr!" shouted the slipper, and his partner rattled a stick on the
+fence. The Warhorse's bounds increased to eight or nine feet.
+
+"Hrrrrrr!" and they were ten or twelve feet. At thirty yards the Hounds
+were slipped--an even slip; some thought it could have been done at
+twenty yards.
+
+"Hrrrrrr! Hrrrrrrr!" and the Warhorse was doing fourteen-foot leaps,
+not a spy-hop among them.
+
+"Hrrrrr!" wonderful Dogs! how they sailed; but drifting ahead of them,
+like a white sea-bird or flying scud, was the Warhorse. Away past the
+Grand Stand. And the Dogs--were they closing the gap of start? Closing!
+It was lengthening! In less time than it takes to tell it, that
+black-and-white thistledown had drifted away through the Haven
+door,--the door so like that good old hen-hole,--and the Grey-hounds
+pulled up amidst a roar of derision and cheers for the Little Warhorse.
+How Mickey did laugh! How Dignam did swear! How the newspaper men did
+scribble--scribble--scribble!
+
+Next day there was a paragraph in all the papers: "WONDERFUL FEAT OF A
+JACKRABBIT. The Little Warhorse, as he has been styled, completely
+skunked two of the most famous Dogs on the turf," etc.
+
+There was a fierce wrangle among the dog-men. This was a tie, since
+neither had scored, and Minkie and her rival were allowed to run again;
+but that half-mile had been too hot, and they had no show for the cup.
+
+Mickey met "Diamonds" next day, by chance.
+
+"Have a cigar, Mickey."
+
+"Oi will thot, sor. Faix, thim's so foine; I'd loike two--thank ye,
+sor."
+
+
+VIII
+
+From that time the Little Warhorse became the pride of the Irish boy.
+Slipper Slyman had been honorably reinstated and Mickey reduced to the
+rank of Jack-starter, but that merely helped to turn his sympathies
+from the Dogs to the Rabbits, or rather to the Warhorse, for of all the
+five hundred that were brought in from the drive he alone had won
+renown. There were several that crossed the Park to run again another
+day, but he alone had crossed the course without getting even a turn.
+Twice a week the meets took place; forty or fifty Jacks were killed
+each time, and the five hundred in the pen had been nearly all eaten of
+the arena.
+
+The Warhorse had run each day, and as often had made the Haven. Mickey
+became wildly enthusiastic about his favorite's powers. He begot a
+positive affection for the clean-limbed racer, and stoutly maintained
+against all that it was a positive honor to a Dog to be disgraced by
+such a Jack.
+
+It is so seldom that a Rabbit crosses the track at all, that when Jack
+did it six times without having to dodge, the papers took note of it,
+and after each meet there appeared a notice: "The Little Warhorse
+crossed again today;  old-timers say it shows how our Dogs are
+deteriorating."
+
+After the sixth time the rabbit-keepers grew enthusiastic, and Mickey,
+commander-in-chief of the brigade, became intemperate in his
+admiration. "Be jabers, he has a right to be torned loose. He has won
+his freedom loike ivery Amerikin done," he added, by way of appeal to
+the patriotism of the Steward of the race, who was, of course, the real
+owner of the Jacks.
+
+"All right, Mick; if he gets across thirteen times you can ship him
+back to his native land," was the reply.
+
+"Shure now, an' won't you make it tin, sor?"
+
+"No, no; I need him to take the conceit out of some of the new Dogs
+that are coming."
+
+"Thirteen toimes and he is free, sor; it's a bargain."
+
+A new lot of Rabbits arrived about this time, and one of these was
+colored much like Little Warhorse. He had no such speed, but to prevent
+mistakes Mickey caught his favorite by driving him into one of the
+padded shipping-boxes, and proceeded with the gate-keeper's punch to
+earmark him. The punch was sharp; a clear star was cut out of the thin
+flap, when Mickey exclaimed: "Faix, an' Oi'll punch for ivery toime ye
+cross the coorse." So he cut six stars in a row. "Thayer now,
+Warrhorrse, shure it's a free Rabbit ye'll be when ye have yer thirteen
+stars like our flag of liberty hed when we got free."
+
+Within a week the Warhorse had vanquished the new Greyhounds and had
+stars enough to go round the right ear and begin on the left. In a week
+more the thirteen runs were completed, six stars in the left ear and
+seven in the right, and the newspapers had new material.
+
+"Whoop!" How Mickey hoorayed! "An' it's a free Jack ye are, Warrhorrse!
+Thirteen always wuz a lucky number. I never knowed it to fail."
+
+
+IX
+
+"Yes, I know I did," said the Steward. "But I want to give him one more
+run. I have a bet on him against a new Dog here. It won't hurt him now;
+he can do it. Oh, well. Here now, Mickey, don't you get sassy. One run
+more this afternoon. The Dogs run two or three times a day; why not the
+Jack?"
+
+"They're not shtakin' thayre loives, sor."
+
+"Oh, you get out."
+
+Many more Rabbits had been added to the pen,--big and small, peaceful
+and warlike,--and one big Buck of savage instincts, seeing Jack
+Warhorse's hurried dash into the Haven that morning, took advantage of
+the moment to attack him.
+
+At another time Jack would have thumped his skull, as he once did the
+Cat's, and settled the affair in a minute; but now it took several
+minutes, during which he himself got roughly handled; so when the
+afternoon came he was suffering from one or two bruises and stiffening
+wounds; not serious, indeed, but enough to lower his speed.
+
+The start was much like those of previous runs. The Warhorse steaming
+away low and lightly, his ears up and the breezes whistling through his
+thirteen stars.
+
+Minkie with Fango, the new Dog, bounded in eager pursuit, but, to the
+surprise of the starters, the gap grew smaller. The Warhorse was losing
+ground, and right before the Grand Stand old Minkie turned him, and a
+cheer went up from the dog-men, for all knew the runners. Within fifty
+yards Fango scored a turn, and the race was right back to the start.
+There stood Slyman and Mickey. The Rabbit dodged, the Greyhounds
+plunged; Jack could not get away, and just as the final snap seemed
+near, the Warhorse leaped straight for Mickey, and in an instant was
+hidden in his arms, while the starter's feet flew out in energetic
+kicks to repel the furious Dogs. It is not likely that the Jack knew
+Mickey for a friend; he only yielded to the old instinct to fly from a
+certain enemy to a neutral or a possible friend, and, as luck would
+have it, he had wisely leaped and well. A cheer went up from the
+benches as Mickey hurried back with his favorite. But the dog-men
+protested "it wasn't a fair run--they wanted it finished." They
+appealed to the Steward. He had backed the Jack against Fango. He was
+sore now, and ordered a new race.
+
+An hour's rest was the best Mickey could get for him. Then he went as
+before, with Fango and Minkie in pursuit. He seemed less stiff now--he
+ran more like himself; but a little past the Stand he was turned by
+Fango and again by Minkie, and back and across, and here and there,
+leaping frantically and barely eluding his foes. For several minutes it
+lasted. Mickey could see that Jack's ears were sinking. The new Dog
+leaped. Jack dodged almost under him to escape, and back only to meet
+the second Dog; and now both ears were flat on his back. But the Hounds
+were suffering too. Their tongues were lolling out; their jaws and
+heaving sides were splashed with foam. The Warhorse's ears went up
+again. His courage seemed to revive in their distress. He made a
+straight dash for the Haven; but the straight dash was just what the
+Hounds could do, and within a hundred yards he was turned again, to
+begin another desperate game of zigzag. Then the dog-men saw danger for
+their Dogs, and two new ones were slipped--two fresh Hounds; surely
+they could end the race. But they did not. The first two were
+vanquished--gasping--out of it, but the next two were racing near. The
+Warhorse put forth all his strength. He left the first two far
+behind--was nearly to the Haven when the second two came up.
+
+Nothing but dodging could save him now. His ears were sinking, his
+heart was pattering on his ribs, but his spirit was strong. He flung
+himself in wildest zigzags. The Hounds tumbled over each other. Again
+and again they thought they had him. One of them snapped off the end of
+his long black tail, yet he escaped; but he could not get to the Haven.
+The luck was against him. He was forced nearer to the Grand Stand. A
+thousand ladies were watching. The time limit was up. The second Dogs
+were suffering, when Mickey came running, yelling like a
+madman--words--imprecations--crazy sounds:
+
+"Ye blackguard hoodlums! Ye dhirty, cowardly bastes!" and he rushed
+furiously at the Dogs, intent to do them bodily harm.
+
+Officers came running and shouting, and Mickey, shrieking hatred and
+defiance, was dragged from the field, reviling Dogs and men with every
+horrid, insulting name he could think of or invent.
+
+"Fair play! Whayer's yer fair play, ye liars, ye dhirty cheats, ye
+bloody cowards!" And they drove him from the arena. The last he saw of
+it was the four foaming Dogs feebly dodging after a weak and worn-out
+Jack-rabbit, and the judge on his Horse beckoning to the man with the
+gun.
+
+The gate closed behind him, and Mickey heard a bang-bang, an unusual
+uproar mixed with yelps of Dogs, and he knew that Little Jack Warhorse
+had been served with finish No. 4.
+
+All his life he had loved Dogs, but his sense of fair play was
+outraged. He could not get in, nor see in from where he was. He raced
+along the lane to the Haven, where he might get a good view, and
+arrived in time to see--Little Jack Warhorse with his half-masted ears
+limp into the Haven; and he realized at once that the man with the gun
+had missed, had hit the wrong runner, for there was the crowd at the
+Stand watching two men who were carrying a wounded Greyhound, while a
+veterinary surgeon was ministering to another that was panting on the
+ground.
+
+Mickey looked about, seized a little shipping-box, put it at the angle
+of the Haven, carefully drove the tired thing into it, closed the lid,
+then, with the box under his arm, he scaled the fence unseen in the
+confusion and was gone.
+
+'It didn't matter; he had lost his job anyway.' He tramped away from
+the city. He took the train at the nearest station and travelled some
+hours, and now he was in Rabbit country again. The sun had long gone
+down; the night with its stars was over the plain when among the farms,
+the Osage and alfalfa, Mickey Doo opened the box and gently put the
+Warhorse out.
+
+Grinning as he did so, he said: "Shure an' it's ould Oireland thot's
+proud to set the thirteen stars at liberty wance moore."
+
+For a moment the Little Warhorse gazed in doubt, then took three or
+four long leaps and a spy-hop to get his bearings. Now spreading his
+national colors and his honor-marked ears, he bounded into his hard-won
+freedom, strong as ever, and melted into the night of his native plain.
+
+He has been seen many times in Kaskado, and there have been many Rabbit
+drives in that region, but he seems to know some means of baffling them
+now, for, in all the thousands that have been trapped and corralled,
+they have never since seen the star-spangled ears of Little jack
+Warhorse.
+
+
+
+
+SNAP
+
+THE STORY OF A BULL-TERRIER
+
+I
+
+It was dusk on Hallowe'en when first I saw him. Early in the morning I
+had received a telegram from my college chum Jack: "Lest we forget. Am
+sending you a remarkable pup. Be polite to him; it's safer." It would
+have been just like Jack to have sent an infernal machine or a Skunk
+rampant and called it a pup, so I awaited the hamper with curiosity.
+When it arrived I saw it was marked "Dangerous," and there came from
+within a high-pitched snarl at every slight provocation. On peering
+through the wire netting I saw it was not a baby Tiger but a small
+white Bull-terrier. He snapped at me and at any one or anything that
+seemed too abrupt or too near for proper respect, and his snarling
+growl was unpleasantly frequent. Dogs have two growls: one
+deep-rumbled, and chesty; that is polite warning--the retort courteous;
+the other mouthy and much higher in pitch: this is the last word before
+actual onslaught. The Terrier's growls were all of the latter kind. I
+was a dog-man and thought I knew all about Dogs, so, dismissing the
+porter, I got out my all-round
+jackknife--toothpick--nailhammer-hatchet-toolbox-fire-shovel, a
+specialty of our firm, and lifted the netting. Oh, yes, I knew all
+about Dogs. The little fury had been growling out a whole-souled growl
+for every tap of the tool, and when I turned the box on its side, he
+made a dash straight for my legs. Had not his foot gone through the
+wire netting and held him, I might have been hurt, for his heart was
+evidently in his work; but I stepped on the table out of reach and
+tried to reason with him. I have always believed in talking to animals.
+I maintain that they gather something of our intention at least, even
+if they do not understand our words; but the Dog evidently put me down
+for a hypocrite and scorned my approaches. At first he took his post
+under the table and kept up a circular watch for a leg trying to get
+down. I felt sure I could have controlled him with my eye, but I could
+not bring it to bear where I was, or rather where he was; thus I was
+left a prisoner. I am a very cool person, I flatter myself; in fact, I
+represent a hardware firm, and, in coolness, we are not excelled by any
+but perhaps the nosy gentlemen that sell wearing-apparel. I got out a
+cigar and smoked tailor-style on the table, while my little tyrant
+below kept watch for legs. I got out the telegram and read it:
+"Remarkable pup. Be polite to him; it's safer." I think it was my
+coolness rather than my politeness that did it, for in half an hour the
+growling ceased. In an hour he no longer jumped at a newspaper
+cautiously pushed over the edge to test his humor; possibly the
+irritation of the cage was wearing off, and by the time I had lit my
+third cigar, he waddled out to the fire and lay down; not ignoring me,
+however, I had no reason to complain of that kind of contempt. He kept
+one eye on me, and I kept both eyes, not on him, but on his stumpy
+tail. If that tail should swing sidewise once I should feel I was
+winning; but it did not swing. I got a book and put in time on that
+table till my legs were cramped and the fire burned low. About 10 P.M.
+it was chilly, and at half-past ten the fire was out. My Hallowe'en
+present got up, yawned and stretched, then walked under my bed, where
+he found a fur rug. By stepping lightly from the table to the dresser,
+and then on to the mantel-shelf, I also reached bed, and, very quietly
+undressing, got in without provoking any criticism from my master. I
+had not yet fallen asleep when I heard a slight scrambling and felt
+"thump-thump" on the bed, then over my feet and legs; Snap evidently
+had found it too cool down below, and proposed to have the best my
+house afforded.
+
+He curled up on my feet in such a way that I was very uncomfortable and
+tried to readjust matters, but the slightest wriggle of my toe was
+enough to make him snap at it so fiercely that nothing but thick
+woollen bedclothes saved me from being maimed for life.
+
+I was an hour moving my feet--a hair's-breadth at a time--till they
+were so that I could sleep in comfort; and I was awakened several times
+during the night by angry snarls from the Dog--I suppose because I
+dared to move a toe without his approval, though once I believe he did
+it simply because I was snoring.
+
+In the morning I was ready to get up before Snap was. You see, I call
+him Snap-Ginger-snap in full. Some Dogs are hard to name, and some do
+not seem to need it--they name themselves.
+
+I was ready to rise at seven. Snap was not ready till eight, so we rose
+at eight. He had little to say to the man who made the fire. He allowed
+me to dress without doing it on the table. As I left the room to get
+breakfast, I remarked:
+
+"Snap, my friend, some men would whip you into a different way, but I
+think I know a better plan. The doctors nowadays favor the
+'no-breakfast cure.' I shall try that."
+
+It seemed cruel, but I left him without food all day. It cost me
+something to repaint the door where he scratched it, but at night he
+was quite ready to accept a little food at my hands.
+
+In a week we were very good friends. He would sleep on my bed now and
+allow me to move my feet without snapping at them, intent to do me
+serious bodily harm. The no-breakfast cure had worked wonders; in three
+months we were--well, simply man and Dog, and he amply justified the
+telegram he came with.
+
+He seemed to be without fear. If a small Dog came near, he would take
+not the slightest notice; if a medium-sized Dog, he would stick his
+stub of a tail rigidly up in the air, then walk around him, scratching
+contemptuously with his hind feet, and looking at the sky, the
+distance, the ground, anything but the Dog, and noting his presence
+only by frequent high-pitched growls. If the stranger did not move on
+at once, the battle began, and then the stranger usually moved on very
+rapidly. Snap sometimes got worsted, but no amount of sad experience
+could ever inspire him with a grain of caution. Once, while riding in a
+cab during the Dog Show, Snap caught sight of an elephantine St.
+Bernard taking an airing. Its size aroused such enthusiasm in the Pup's
+little breast that he leaped from the cab window to do battle, and
+broke his leg.
+
+Evidently fear had been left out of his make-up and its place supplied
+with an extra amount of ginger, which was the reason of his full name.
+He differed from all other Dogs I have ever known. For example, if a
+boy threw a stone at him, he ran, not away, but toward the boy, and if
+the crime was repeated, Snap took the law into his own hands; thus he
+was at least respected by all. Only myself and the porter at the office
+seemed to realize his good points, and we only were admitted to the
+high honor of personal friendship, an honor which I appreciated more as
+months went on, and by midsummer not Carnegie, Vanderbilt, and Astor
+together could have raised money enough to buy a quarter of a share in
+my little Dog Snap.
+
+
+II
+
+Though not a regular traveller, I was ordered out on the road in the
+autumn, and then Snap and the landlady were left together, with
+unfortunate developments. Contempt on his part--fear on hers; and hate
+on both.
+
+I was placing a lot of barb-wire in the northern tier of States. My
+letters were forwarded once a week, and I got several complaints from
+the landlady about Snap.
+
+Arrived at Mendoza, in North Dakota, I found a fine market for wire. Of
+course my dealings were with the big storekeepers, but I went about
+among the ranchmen to get their practical views on the different
+styles, and thus I met the Penroof Brothers' Cow-outfit.
+
+One cannot be long in Cow country now without hearing a great deal
+about the depredations of the ever wily and destructive Gray-wolf. The
+day has gone by when they can be poisoned wholesale, and they are a
+serious drain on the rancher's profits. The Penroof Brothers, like most
+live cattle-men, had given up all attempts at poisoning and trapping,
+and were trying various breeds of Dogs as Wolf-hunters, hoping to get a
+little sport out of the necessary work of destroying the pests.
+
+Foxhounds had failed--they were too soft for fighting; Great Danes were
+too clumsy, and Greyhounds could not follow the game unless they could
+see it. Each breed had some fatal defect, but the cow-men hoped to
+succeed with a mixed pack, and the day when I was invited to join in a
+Mendoza Wolf-hunt, I was amused by the variety of Dogs that followed.
+There were several mongrels, but there were also a few highly bred
+Dogs--in particular, some Russian Wolfhounds that must have cost a lot
+of money.
+
+Hilton Penroof, the oldest boy, "The Master of Hounds," was unusually
+proud of them, and expected them to do great things.
+
+"Greyhounds are too thin-skinned to fight a Wolf, Danes are too slow,
+but you'll see the fur fly when the Russians take a hand."
+
+Thus the Greyhounds were there as runners, the Danes as heavy backers,
+and the Russians to do the important fighting. There were also two or
+three Foxhounds, whose fine noses were relied on to follow the trail if
+the game got out of view.
+
+It was a fine sight as we rode away among the Badland Buttes that
+October day. The air was bright and crisp, and though so late, there
+was neither snow nor frost. The Horses were fresh, and once or twice
+showed me how a Cow-pony tries to get rid of his rider.
+
+The Dogs were keen for sport, and we did start one or two gray spots in
+the plain that Hilton said were Wolves or Coyotes. The Dogs trailed
+away at full cry, but at night, beyond the fact that one of the
+Greyhounds had a wound on his shoulder, there was nothing to show that
+any of them had been on a Wolf-hunt.
+
+"It's my opinion yer fancy Russians is no good, Hilt," said Garvin, the
+younger brother. "I'll back that little black Dane against the lot,
+mongrel an' all as he is."
+
+"I don't unnerstan' it," growled Hilton. "There ain't a Coyote, let
+alone a Gray-wolf, kin run away from them Greyhounds; them Foxhounds
+kin folly a trail three days old, an' the Danes could lick a Grizzly."
+
+"I reckon," said the father, "they kin run, an' they kin track, an'
+they kin lick a Grizzly, maybe, but the fac' is they don't want to
+tackle a Gray-wolf. The hull darn pack is scairt--an' I wish we had our
+money out o' them."
+
+Thus the men grumbled and discussed as I drove away and left them.
+
+There seemed only one solution of the failure. The Hounds were swift
+and strong, but a Gray-wolf seems to terrorize all Dogs. They have not
+the nerve to face him, and so, each time he gets away, and my thoughts
+flew back to the fearless little Dog that had shared my bed for the
+last year. How I wished he was out here, then these lubberly giants of
+Hounds would find a leader whose nerve would not fail at the moment of
+trial.
+
+At Baroka, my next stop, I got a batch of mail including two letters
+from the landlady; the first to say that "that beast of a Dog was
+acting up scandalous in my room," and the other still more forcible,
+demanding his immediate removal. "Why not have him expressed to
+Mendoza?" I thought. "It's only twenty hours; they'll be glad to have
+him. I can take him home with me when I go through."
+
+
+III
+
+My next meeting with Gingersnap was not as different from the first as
+one might have expected. He jumped on me, made much vigorous pretense
+to bite, and growled frequently, but it was a deep-chested growl and
+his stump waggled hard.
+
+The Penroofs had had a number of Wolf-hunts since I was with them, and
+were much disgusted at having no better success than before. The Dogs
+could find a Wolf nearly every time they went out, but they could not
+kill him, and the men were not near enough at the finish to learn why.
+
+Old Penroof was satisfied that "thar wasn't one of the hull miserable
+gang that had the grit of a Jack-rabbit."
+
+We were off at dawn the next day--the same procession of fine Horses
+and superb riders; the big blue Dogs, the yellow Dogs, the spotted
+Dogs, as before; but there was a new feature, a little white Dog that
+stayed close by me, and not only any Dogs, but Horses that came too
+near were apt to get a surprise from his teeth. I think he quarrelled
+with every man, Horse, and Dog in the country, with the exception of a
+Bull-terrier belonging to the Mendoza hotel man. She was the only one
+smaller than himself, and they seemed very good friends.
+
+I shall never forget the view of the hunt I had that day. We were on
+one of those large, flat-headed buttes that give a kingdom to the eye,
+when Hilton, who had been scanning the vast country with glasses,
+exclaimed: "I see him. There he goes, toward Skull Creek. Guess it's a
+Coyote."
+
+Now the first thing is to get the Greyhounds to see the prey--not an
+easy matter, as they cannot use the glasses, and the ground was covered
+with sage-brush higher than the Dogs' heads.
+
+But Hilton called, "Hu, hu, Dander," and leaned aside from his saddle,
+holding out his foot at the same time. With one agile bound Dander
+leaped to the saddle and there stood balancing on the Horse while
+Hilton kept pointing. "There he is, Dander; sic him--see him down
+there." The Dog gazed earnestly where his master pointed, then seeming
+to see, he sprang to the ground with a slight yelp and sped away. The
+other Dogs followed after, in an ever-lengthening procession, and we
+rode as hard as we could behind them, but losing time, for the ground
+was cut with gullies, spotted with badger-holes, and covered with rocks
+and sage that made full speed too hazardous.
+
+We all fell behind, and I was last, of course, being least accustomed
+to the saddle. We got several glimpses of the Dogs flying over the
+level plain or dropping from sight in gullies to reappear at the other
+side. Dander, the Greyhound, was the recognized leader, and as we
+mounted another ridge we got sight of the whole chase--a Coyote at full
+speed, the Dogs a quarter of a mile behind, but gaining. When next we
+saw them the Coyote was dead, and the Dogs sitting around panting, all
+but two of the Foxhounds and Gingersnap.
+
+"Too late for the fracas," remarked Hilton, glancing at these last
+Foxhounds. Then he proudly petted Dander. "Didn't need yer purp after
+all, ye see."
+
+"Takes a heap of nerve for ten big Dogs to face one little Coyote,"
+remarked the father, sarcastically. "Wait till we run onto a Gray."
+
+Next day we were out again, for I made up my mind to see it to a finish.
+
+From a high point we caught sight of a moving speck of gray. A moving
+white speck stands for Antelope, a red speck for Fox, a gray speck for
+either Gray-wolf or Coyote, and which of these is determined by its
+tail. If the glass shows the tail down, it is a Coyote; if up, it is
+the hated Gray-wolf.
+
+Dander was shown the game as before and led the motley mixed
+procession--as he had before--Greyhounds, Wolfhounds, Foxhounds, Danes,
+Bull-terrier, horsemen. We got a momentary view of the pursuit; a
+Gray-wolf it surely was, loping away ahead of the Dogs. Somehow I
+thought the first Dogs were not running so fast now as they had after
+the Coyote. But no one knew the finish of the hunt. The Dogs came back
+to us one by one, and we saw no more of that Wolf.
+
+Sarcastic remarks and recrimination were now freely indulged in by the
+hunters.
+
+"Pah--scairt, plumb scairt," was the father's disgusted comment on the
+pack. "They could catch up easy enough, but when he turned on them,
+they lighted out for home--pah!"
+
+"Where's that thar onsurpassable, fearless, scaired-o'-nort Tarrier?"
+asked Hilton, scornfully.
+
+"I don't know," said I. "I am inclined to think he never saw the Wolf;
+but if he ever does, I'll bet he sails in for death or glory."
+
+That night several Cows were killed close to the ranch, and we were
+spurred on to another hunt.
+
+It opened much like the last. Late in the afternoon we sighted a gray
+fellow with tail up, not half a mile off. Hilton called Dander up on
+the saddle. I acted on the idea and called Snap to mine. His legs were
+so short that he had to leap several times before he made it,
+scrambling up at last with my foot as a half-way station. I pointed and
+"sic-ed" for a minute before he saw the game, and then he started out
+after the Greyhounds, already gone, with energy that was full of
+promise.
+
+The chase this time led us, not to the rough brakes along the river,
+but toward the high open country, for reasons that appeared later. We
+were close together as we rose to the upland and sighted the chase half
+a mile off, just as Dander came up with the Wolf and snapped at his
+haunch. The Gray-wolf turned round to fight, and we had a fine view.
+The Dogs came up by twos and threes, barking at him in a ring, till
+last the little white one rushed up. He wasted no time barking, but
+rushed straight at the Wolf's throat and missed it, yet seemed to get
+him by the nose; then the ten big Dogs closed in, and in two minutes
+the Wolf was dead. We had ridden hard to be in at the finish, and
+though our view was distant, we saw at least that Snap had lived up to
+the telegram, as well as to my promises for him.
+
+Now it was my turn to crow, and I did not lose the chance. Snap had
+shown them how, and at last the Mendoza pack had killed a Gray-wolf
+without help from the men.
+
+There were two things to mar the victory somewhat: first, it was a
+young Wolf, a mere Cub, hence his foolish choice of country; second,
+Snap was wounded--the Wolf had given him a bad cut in the shoulder.
+
+As we rode in proud procession home, I saw he limped a little. "Here,"
+I cried, "come up, Snap." He tried once or twice to jump to the saddle,
+but could not. "Here, Hilton, lift him up to me."
+
+"Thanks; I'll let you handle your own rattlesnakes," was the reply, for
+all knew now that it was not safe to meddle with his person. "Here,
+Snap, take hold," I said, and held my quirt to him. He seized it, and
+by that I lifted him to the front of my saddle and so carried him home.
+I cared for him as though he had been a baby. He had shown those
+Cattle-men how to fill the weak place in their pack; the Foxhounds may
+be good and the Greyhounds swift and the Russians and Danes fighters,
+but they are no use at all without the crowning moral force of grit,
+that none can supply so well as a Bull-terrier. On that day the
+Cattlemen learned how to manage the Wolf question, as you will find if
+ever you are at Mendoza; for every successful Wolf pack there has with
+it a Bull-terrier, preferably of the Snap-Mendoza breed.
+
+
+IV
+
+Next day was Hallowe'en, the anniversary of Snap's advent. The weather
+was clear, bright, not too cold, and there was no snow on the ground.
+The men usually celebrated the day with a hunt of some sort, and now,
+of course, Wolves were the one object. To the disappointment of all,
+Snap was in bad shape with his wound. He slept, as usual, at my feet,
+and bloody stains now marked the place. He was not in condition to
+fight, but we were bound to have a Wolf-hunt, so he was beguiled to an
+outhouse and locked up, while we went off, I, at least, with a sense of
+impending disaster. I knew we should fail without my Dog, but I did not
+realize how bad a failure it was to be.
+
+Afar among the buttes of Skull Creek we had roamed when a white ball
+appeared bounding through the sage-brush, and in a minute more Snap
+came, growling and stump-waggling, up to my Horse's side. I could not
+send him back; he would take no such orders, not even from me. His
+wound was looking bad, so I called him, held down the quirt, and jumped
+him to my saddle.
+
+"There," I thought, "I'll keep you safe till we get home." 'Yes, I
+thought; but I reckoned not with Snap. The voice of Hilton, "Hu, hu,"
+announced that he had sighted a Wolf. Dander and Riley, his rival, both
+sprang to the point of observation, with the result that they collided
+and fell together, sprawling, in the sage. But Snap, gazing hard, had
+sighted the Wolf, not so very far off, and before I knew it, he leaped
+from the saddle and bounded zigzag, high, low, in and under the sage,
+straight for the enemy, leading the whole pack for a few minutes. Not
+far, of course. The great Greyhounds sighted the moving speck, and the
+usual procession strung out on the plain. It promised to be a fine
+hunt, for the Wolf had less than half a mile start and all the Dogs
+were fully interested.
+
+"They 'ye turned up Grizzly Gully," cried Garvin. "This way, and we can
+head them off."
+
+So we turned and rode hard around the north side of Hulmer's Butte,
+while the chase seemed to go round the south.
+
+We galloped to the top of Cedar Ridge and were about to ride down, when
+Hilton shouted, "By George, here he is! We're right onto him." He
+leaped from his Horse, dropped the bridle, and ran forward. I did the
+same. A great Gray-wolf came lumbering across an open plain toward us.
+His head was low, his tail out level, and fifty yards behind him was
+Dander, sailing like a Hawk over the ground, going twice as fast as the
+Wolf. In a minute the Hound was alongside and snapped, but bounded
+back, as the Wolf turned on him. They were just below us now and not
+fifty feet away. Garvin drew his revolver, but in a fateful moment
+Hilton interfered: "No; no; let's see it out." In a few seconds the
+next Greyhound arrived, then the rest in order of swiftness. Each came
+up full of fight and fury, determined to go right in and tear the
+Gray-wolf to pieces; but each in turn swerved aside, and leaped and
+barked around at a safe distance. After a minute or so the Russians
+appeared--fine big Dogs they were.  Their distant intention no doubt
+was to dash right at the old Wolf; but his fearless front, his sinewy
+frame and death-dealing jaws, awed them long before they were near him,
+and they also joined the ring, while the desperado in the middle faced
+this way and that, ready for any or all.
+
+Now the Danes came up, huge-limbed creatures, any one of them as heavy
+as the Wolf.  I heard their heavy breathing tighten into a threatening
+sound as they plunged ahead; eager to tear the foe to pieces; but when
+they saw him there, grim fearless, mighty of jaw, tireless of limb,
+ready to die if need be, but sure of this, he would not die
+alone--well, those great Danes--all three of them--were stricken, as
+the rest had been, with a sudden bashfulness: Yes, they would go right
+in presently--not now, but as soon as they had got their breath; they
+were not afraid of a Wolf, oh, no.  I could read their courage in their
+voices.  They knew perfectly well that the first Dog to go in was going
+to get hurt, but never mind that--presently; they would bark a little
+more to get up enthusiasm.
+
+And as the ten big Dogs were leaping round the silent Wolf at bay,
+there was a rustling in the sage at the far side of place; then a
+snow-white rubber ball, it seemed, came bounding, but grew into a
+little Bull-terrier, and Snap, slowest of the pack, and last, came
+panting hard, so hard he seemed gasping.  Over the level open he made,
+straight to the changing ring around the Cattle-killer whom none dared
+face.  Did he hesitate? Not for an instant; through the ring of the
+yelping pack, straight for the old despot of range, right for his
+throat he sprang; and the Gray-wolf struck with his twenty scimitars.
+But the little one, if fooled at all, sprang again, and then what came
+I hardly knew. There was a whirling mass of Dogs. I thought I saw the
+little White One clinched on the Gray-wolf's nose. The pack was all
+around; we could not help them now.  But they did not need us; they had
+a leader of dauntless mettle, and when in a little while the final
+scene was done, there on the ground lay the Gray-wolf, a giant of his
+kind, and clinched on his nose was the little white Dog.
+
+We were standing around within fifteen feet, ready to help, but had no
+chance till were not needed.
+
+The Wolf was dead, and I hallooed to Snap, but he did not move. I bent
+over him. "Snap--Snap, it's all over; you've killed him." But the Dog
+was very still, and now I saw two deep wounds in his body.  I tried to
+lift him. "Let go, old fellow; it's all over." He growled feebly, and
+at last go of the Wolf. The rough cattle-men were kneeling around him
+now; old Penroof's voice was trembling as he muttered, "I wouldn't had
+him hurt for twenty steers."  I lifted him in my arms, called to him
+and stroked his head.  He snarled a little, a farewell as it proved,
+for he licked my hand as he did so, then never snarled again.
+
+That was a sad ride home for me. There was the skin of a monstrous
+Wolf, but no other hint of triumph.  We buried the fearless one on a
+butte back of the Ranch-house.  Penroof, as he stood by, was heard to
+grumble: "By jingo, that was grit--cl'ar grit!  Ye can't raise Cattle
+without grit."
+
+
+
+
+THE WINNIPEG WOLF
+
+I
+
+It was during the great blizzard of 1882 that I first met the Winnipeg
+Wolf. I had left St. Paul in the middle of March to cross the prairies
+to Winnipeg, expecting to be there in twenty-four hours, but the Storm
+King had planned it otherwise and sent a heavy-laden eastern blast. The
+snow came down in a furious, steady torrent, hour after hour. Never
+before had I seen such a storm. All the world was lost in snow--snow,
+snow, snow--whirling, biting, stinging, drifting snow--and the puffing,
+monstrous engine was compelled to stop at the command of those tiny
+feathery crystals of spotless purity.
+
+Many strong hands with shovels came to the delicately curled snowdrifts
+that barred our way, and in an hour the engine could pass--only to
+stick in another drift yet farther on. It was dreary work--day after
+day, night after night, sticking in the drifts, digging ourselves out,
+and still the snow went whirling and playing about us.
+
+"Twenty-two hours to Emerson," said the official; but nearly two weeks
+of digging passed before we did reach Emerson, and the poplar country
+where the thickets stop all drifting of the snow. Thenceforth the train
+went swiftly, the poplar woods grew more thickly--we passed for miles
+through solid forests, then perhaps through an open space. As we neared
+St. Boniface, the eastern outskirts of Winnipeg, we dashed across a
+little glade fifty yards wide, and there in the middle was a group that
+stirred me to the very soul.
+
+In plain view was a great rabble of Dogs, large and small, black,
+white, and yellow, wriggling and heaving this way and that way in a
+rude ring; to one side was a little yellow Dog stretched and quiet in
+the snow; on the outer part of the ring was a huge black Dog bounding
+about and barking, but keeping ever behind the moving mob. And in the
+midst, the centre and cause of it all, was a great, grim, Wolf.
+
+Wolf? He looked like a Lion. There he stood, all
+alone--resolute-calm--with bristling mane, and legs braced firmly,
+glancing this way and that, to be ready for an attack in any direction.
+There was a curl on his lips--it looked like scorn, but I suppose it
+was really the fighting snarl of tooth display. Led by a
+wolfish-looking Dog that should have been ashamed, the pack dashed in,
+for the twentieth time no doubt. But the great gray form leaped here
+and there, and chop, chop, chop went those fearful jaws, no other sound
+from the lonely warrior; but a death yelp from more than one of his
+foes, as those that were able again sprang back, and left him
+statuesque as before, untamed, unmaimed, and contemptuous of them all.
+
+How I wished for the train to stick in a snowdrift now, as so often
+before, for all my heart went out to that Gray-wolf; I longed to go and
+help him. But the snow-deep glade flashed by, the poplar trunks shut
+out the view, and we went on to our journey's end.
+
+This was all I saw, and it seemed little; but before many days had
+passed I knew surely that I had been favored with a view, in broad
+daylight, of a rare and wonderful creature, none less than the Winnipeg
+Wolf.
+
+His was a strange history--a Wolf that preferred the city to the
+country, that passed by the Sheep to kill the Dogs, and that always
+hunted alone.
+
+In telling the story of le Garou, as he was called by some, although I
+speak of these things as locally familiar, it is very sure that to many
+citizens of the town they were quite unknown. The smug shopkeeper on
+the main street had scarcely heard of him until the day after the final
+scene at the slaughter-house, when his great carcass was carried to
+Hine's taxidermist shop and there mounted, to be exhibited later at the
+Chicago World's Fair, and to be destroyed, alas! in the fire that
+reduced the Mulvey Grammar School to ashes in 1896.
+
+
+II
+
+It seems that Fiddler Paul, the handsome ne'er-do-well of the
+half-breed world, readier to hunt than to work, was prowling with his
+gun along the wooded banks of the Red River by Kildonan, one day in the
+June of 1880. He saw a Gray-wolf come out of a hole in a bank and fired
+a chance shot that killed it. Having made sure, by sending in his Dog,
+that no other large Wolf was there, he crawled into the den, and found,
+to his utter amazement and delight, eight young Wolves--nine bounties
+of ten dollars each. How much is that? A fortune surely. He used a
+stick vigorously, and with the assistance of the yellow Cur, all the
+little ones were killed but one. There is a superstition about the last
+of a brood--it is not lucky to kill it. So Paul set out for town with
+the scalp of the old Wolf, the scalps of the seven young, and the last
+Cub alive.
+
+The saloon-keeper, who got the dollars for which the scalps were
+exchanged, soon got the living Cub. He grew up at the end of a chain,
+but developed a chest and jaws that no Hound in town could match. He
+was kept in the yard for the amusement of customers, and this amusement
+usually took the form of baiting the captive with Dogs. The young Wolf
+was bitten and mauled nearly to death on several occasions, but he
+recovered, and each month there were fewer Dogs willing to face him.
+His life was as hard as it could be. There was but one gleam of
+gentleness in it all, and that was the friendship that grew up between
+himself and Little Jim, the son of the saloonkeeper.
+
+Jim was a wilful little rascal with a mind of his own. He took to the
+Wolf because it had killed a Dog that had bitten him. He thenceforth
+fed the Wolf and made a pet of it, and the Wolf responded by allowing
+him to take liberties which no one else dared venture.
+
+Jim's father was not a model parent. He usually spoiled his son, but at
+times would get in a rage and beat him cruelly for some trifle. The
+child was quick to learn that he was beaten, not because he had done
+wrong, but because he had made his father angry. If, therefore, he
+could keep out of the way until that anger had cooled, he had no
+further cause for worry. One day, seeking safety in flight with his
+father behind him, he dashed into the Wolf's kennel, and his grizzly
+chum thus unceremoniously awakened turned to the door, displayed a
+double row of ivories, and plainly said to the father: "Don't you dare
+to touch him."
+
+If Hogan could have shot the Wolf then and there he would have done so,
+but the chances were about equal of killing his son, so he let them
+alone and, half an hour later, laughed at the whole affair. Thenceforth
+Little Jim made for the Wolf's den whenever he was in danger, and
+sometimes the only notice any one had that the boy had been in mischief
+was seeing him sneak in behind the savage captive.
+
+Economy in hired help was a first principle with Hogan. Therefore his
+"barkeep" was a Chinaman. He was a timid, harmless creature, so Paul
+des Roches did not hesitate to bully him. One day, finding Hogan out,
+and the Chinaman alone in charge, Paul, already tipsy, demanded a drink
+on credit, and Tung Ling, acting on standing orders, refused. His
+artless explanation, "No good, neber pay," so far from clearing up the
+difficulty, brought Paul staggering back of the bar to avenge the
+insult. The Celestial might have suffered grievous bodily hurt, but
+that Little Jim was at hand and had a long stick, with which he
+adroitly tripped up the Fiddler and sent him sprawling. He staggered to
+his feet swearing he would have Jim's life. But the child was near the
+back door and soon found refuge in the Wolf's kennel.
+
+Seeing that the boy had a protector, Paul got the long stick, and from
+a safe distance began to belabor the Wolf, The grizzly creature raged
+at the end of the chain, but, though he parried many cruel blows by
+seizing the stick in his teeth, he was suffering severely, when Paul
+realized that Jim, whose tongue had not been idle, was fumbling away
+with nervous fingers to set the Wolf loose, and soon would succeed.
+Indeed, it would have been done already but for the strain that the
+Wolf kept on the chain.
+
+The thought of being in the yard at the mercy of the huge animal that
+he had so enraged, gave the brave Paul a thrill of terror.
+
+Jim's wheedling voice was heard--"Hold on now, Wolfie; back up just a
+little, and you shall have him. Now do; there's a good Wolfie"--that
+was enough; the Fiddler fled and carefully closed all doors behind him.
+
+Thus the friendship between Jim and his pet grew stronger, and the
+Wolf, as he developed his splendid natural powers, gave daily evidence
+also of the mortal hatred he bore to men that smelt of whiskey and to
+all Dogs, the causes of his sufferings. This peculiarity, coupled with
+his love for the child--and all children seemed to be included to some
+extent--grew with his growth and seemed to prove the ruling force of
+his life.
+
+
+III
+
+At this time--that is, the fall of 1881--there were great complaints
+among the Qu'Appelle ranchmen that the Wolves were increasing in their
+country and committing great depredations among the stock. Poisoning
+and trapping had proved failures, and when a distinguished German
+visitor appeared at the Club in Winnipeg and announced that he was
+bringing some Dogs that could easily rid the country of Wolves, he was
+listened to with unusual interest. For the cattle-men are fond of
+sport, and the idea of helping their business by establishing a kennel
+of Wolfhounds was very alluring.
+
+The German soon produced as samples of his Dogs, two magnificent Danes,
+one white, the other blue with black spots and a singular white eye
+that completed an expression of unusual ferocity. Each of these great
+creatures weighed nearly two hundred pounds. They were muscled like
+Tigers, and the German was readily believed when he claimed that these
+two alone were more than a match for the biggest Wolf. He thus
+described their method of hunting: "All you have to do is show them the
+trail and, even if it is a day old, away they go on it. They cannot be
+shaken off. They will soon find that Wolf, no matter how he doubles and
+hides. Then they close on him. He turns to run, the blue Dog takes him
+by the haunch and throws him like this," and the German jerked a roll
+of bread into the air; "then before he touches the ground the white Dog
+has his head, the other his tail, and they pull him apart like that."
+
+It sounded all right; at any rate every one was eager to put it to the
+proof. Several of the residents said there was a fair chance of finding
+a Gray-wolf along the Assiniboine, so a hunt was organized. But they
+searched in vain for three days and were giving it up when some one
+suggested that down at Hogan's saloon was a Wolf chained up, that they
+could get for the value of the bounty, and though little more than a
+year old he would serve to show what the Dogs could do.
+
+The value of Hogan's Wolf went up at once when he knew the importance
+of the occasion; besides, "he had conscientious scruples." All his
+scruples vanished, however, when his views as to price were met. His
+first care was to get Little Jim out of the way by sending him on an
+errand to his grandma's; then the Wolf was driven into his box and
+nailed in. The box was put in a wagon and taken to the open prairie
+along the Portage trail.
+
+The Dogs could scarcely be held back, they were so eager for the fray,
+as soon as they smelt the Wolf. But several strong men held their
+leash, the wagon was drawn half a mile farther, and the Wolf was turned
+out with some difficulty. At first he looked scared and sullen. He
+tried to get out of sight, but made no attempt to bite. However, on
+finding himself free, as well as hissed and hooted at, he started off
+at a slinking trot toward the south, where the land seemed broken. The
+Dogs were released at that moment, and, baying furiously, they bounded
+away after the young Wolf. The men cheered loudly and rode behind them.
+From the very first it was clear that he had no chance. The Dogs were
+much swifter; the white one could run like a Greyhound. The German was
+wildly enthusiastic as she flew across the prairie, gaining visibly on
+the Wolf at every second. Many bets were offered on the Dogs, but there
+were no takers. The only bets accepted were Dog against Dog. The young
+Wolf went at speed now, but within a mile the white Dog was right
+behind him--was closing in.
+
+The German shouted: "Now watch and see that Wolf go up in the air."
+
+In a moment the runners were together. Both recoiled, neither went up
+in the air, but the white Dog rolled over with a fearful gash in her
+shoulder--out of the fight, if not killed. Ten seconds later the
+Blue-spot arrived, open-mouthed. This meeting was as quick and almost
+as mysterious as the first. The animals barely touched each other. The
+gray one bounded aside, his head out of sight for a moment in the flash
+of quick movement. Spot reeled and showed a bleeding flank. Urged on by
+the men, he assaulted again, but only to get another wound that taught
+him to keep off.
+
+Now came the keeper with four more huge Dogs. They turned these loose,
+and the men armed with clubs and lassos were closing to help in
+finishing the Wolf, when a small boy came charging over the plain on a
+Pony. He leaped to the ground and wriggling through the ring flung his
+arms around the Wolf's neck. He called him his "Wolfie pet," his "dear
+Wolfie"--the Wolf licked his face and wagged its tail--then the child
+turned on the crowd and through his streaming tears, he--Well it would
+not do to print what he said. He was only nine, but he was very
+old-fashioned, as well as a rude little boy. He had been brought up in
+a low saloon, and had been an apt pupil at picking up the vile talk of
+the place. He cursed them one and all and for generations back; he did
+not spare even his own father.
+
+If a man had used such shocking and insulting language he might have
+been lynched, but coming from a baby, the hunters did not know what to
+do, so finally did the best thing. They laughed aloud--not at
+themselves, that is not considered good form--but they all laughed at
+the German whose wonderful Dogs had been worsted by a half-grown Wolf.
+
+Jimmie now thrust his dirty, tear-stained little fist down into his
+very-much-of-a-boy's pocket, and from among marbles and chewing-gum, as
+well as tobacco, matches, pistol cartridges, and other contraband, he
+fished out a flimsy bit of grocer's twine and fastened it around the
+Wolf's neck. Then, still blubbering a little, he set out for home on
+the Pony, leading the Wolf and hurling a final threat and anathema at
+the German nobleman: "Fur two cents I'd sic him on you, gol darn ye."
+
+
+IV
+
+Early that winter Jimmie was taken down with a fever. The Wolf howled
+miserably in the yard when he missed his little friend, and finally on
+the boy's demand was admitted to the sick-room, and there this great
+wild Dog--for that is all a Wolf is--continued faithfully watching by
+his friend's bedside.
+
+The fever had seemed slight at first, so that every one was shocked
+when there came suddenly a turn for the worse, and three days before
+Christmas Jimmie died. He had no more sincere mourner than his
+"Wolfie." The great gray creature howled in miserable answer to the
+church-bell tolling when he followed the body on Christmas Eve to the
+graveyard at St. Boniface. He soon came back to the premises behind the
+saloon, but when an attempt was made to chain him again, he leaped a
+board fence and was finally lost sight of.
+
+Later that same winter old Renaud, the trapper, with his pretty
+half-breed daughter, Ninette, came to live in a little log-cabin on the
+river bank. He knew nothing about Jimmie Hogan, and he was not a little
+puzzled to find Wolf tracks and signs along the river on both sides
+between St. Boniface and Fort Garry. He listened with interest and
+doubt to tales that the Hudson Bay Company's men told of a great
+Gray-wolf that had come to live in the region about, and even to enter
+the town at night, and that was in particular attached to the woods
+about St. Boniface Church.
+
+On Christmas Eve of that year when the bell tolled again as it had done
+for Jimmie, a lone and melancholy howling from the woods almost
+convinced Renaud that the stories were true. He knew the
+wolf-cries--the howl for help, the love song, the lonely wail, and the
+sharp defiance of the Wolves. This was the lonely wail.
+
+The trapper went to the riverside and gave an answering howl. A shadowy
+form left the far woods and crossed on the ice to where the man sat,
+log-still, on a log. It came up near him, circled past and sniffed,
+then its eye glowed; it growled like a Dog that is a little angry, and
+glided back into the night.
+
+Thus Renaud knew, and before long many townfolk began to learn, that a
+huge Gray-wolf was living in their streets, "a Wolf three times as big
+as the one that used to be chained at Hogan's gin-mill." He was the
+terror of Dogs, killing them on all possible occasions, and some said,
+though it was never proven, that he had devoured more than one
+half-breed who was out on a spree.
+
+And this was the Winnipeg Wolf that I had seen that day in the wintry
+woods. I had longed to go to his help, thinking the odds so hopelessly
+against him, but later knowledge changed the thought. I do not know how
+that fight ended, but I do know that he was seen many times afterward
+and some of the Dogs were not.
+
+Thus his was the strangest life that ever his kind had known. Free of
+all the woods and plains, he elected rather to lead a life of daily
+hazard in the town--each week at least some close escape, and every day
+a day of daring deeds; finding momentary shelter at times under the
+very boardwalk crossings. Hating the men and despising the Dogs, he
+fought his daily way and held the hordes of Curs at bay or slew them
+when he found them few or single; harried the drunkard, evaded men with
+guns, learned traps--learned poison, too--just how, we cannot tell, but
+learn it he did, for he passed it again and again, or served it only
+with a Wolf's contempt.
+
+Not a street in Winnipeg that he did not know; not a policeman in
+Winnipeg that had not seen his swift and shadowy form in the gray dawn
+as he passed where he would; not a Dog in Winnipeg that did not cower
+and bristle when the telltale wind brought proof that old Garou was
+crouching near. His only path was the warpath, and all the world his
+foes. But throughout this lurid, semi-mythic record there was one
+recurring pleasant thought--Garou never was known to harm a child.
+
+
+V
+
+Ninette was a desert-born beauty like her Indian mother, but gray-eyed
+like her Normandy father, a sweet girl of sixteen, the belle of her
+set. She might have married any one of the richest and steadiest young
+men of the country, but of course, in feminine perversity her heart was
+set on that ne'er-do-well, Paul des Roches. A handsome fellow, a good
+dancer and a fair violinist, Fiddler Paul was in demand at all
+festivities, but he was a shiftless drunkard and it was even whispered
+that he had a wife already in Lower Canada. Renaud very properly
+dismissed him when he came to urge his suit, but dismissed him in vain.
+Ninette, obedient in all else, would not give up her lover. The very
+day after her father had ordered him away she promised to meet him in
+the woods just across the river. It was easy to arrange this, for she
+was a good Catholic, and across the ice to the church was shorter than
+going around by the bridge. As she went through the snowy wood to the
+tryst she noticed that a large gray Dog was following. It seemed quite
+friendly, and the child (for she was still that) had no fear, but when
+she came to the place where Paul was waiting, the gray Dog went forward
+rumbling in its chest. Paul gave one look, knew it for a huge Wolf,
+then fled like the coward he was. He afterward said he ran for his gun.
+He must have forgotten where it was, as he climbed the nearest tree to
+find it. Meanwhile Ninette ran home across the ice to tell Paul's
+friends of his danger. Not finding any firearms up the tree, the
+valiant lover made a spear by fastening his knife to a branch and
+succeeded in giving Garou a painful wound on the head. The savage,
+creature growled horribly but thenceforth kept at a safe distance,
+though plainly showing his intention to wait till the man came down.
+But the approach of a band of rescuers changed his mind, and he went
+away.
+
+Fiddler Paul found it easier to explain matters to Ninette than he
+would to any one else. He still stood first in her affections, but so
+hopelessly ill with her father that they decided on an elopement, as
+soon as he should return from Fort Alexander, whither he was to go for
+the Company, as dog-driver. The Factor was very proud of his train
+Dogs--three great Huskies with curly, bushy tails, big and strong as
+Calves, but fierce and lawless as pirates. With these the Fiddler Paul
+was to drive to Fort Alexander from Fort Garry--the bearer of several
+important packets. He was an expert Dog-driver, which usually means
+relentlessly cruel. He set off blithely down the river in the morning,
+after the several necessary drinks of whiskey. He expected to be gone a
+week, and would then come back with twenty dollars in his pocket, and
+having thus provided the sinews of war, would carry out the plan of
+elopement. Away they went down the river on the ice. The big Dogs
+pulled swiftly but sulkily as he cracked the long whip and shouted,
+"Allez, allez, marchez." They passed at speed by Renaud's shanty on the
+bank, and Paul, cracking his whip and running behind the train, waved
+his hand to Ninette as she stood by the door. Speedily the cariole with
+the sulky Dogs and drunken driver disappeared around the bend--and that
+was the last ever seen of Fiddler Paul.
+
+That evening the Huskies came back singly to Fort Garry. They were
+spattered with frozen blood, and were gashed in several places. But
+strange to tell they were quite "unhungry."
+
+Runners went on the back trail and recovered the packages. They were
+lying on the ice unharmed. Fragments of the sled were strewn for a mile
+or more up the river; not far from the packages were shreds of clothing
+that had belonged to the Fiddler.
+
+It was quite clear, the Dogs had murdered and eaten their driver.
+
+The Factor was terribly wrought up over the matter. It might cost him
+his Dogs. He refused to believe the report and set off to sift the
+evidence for himself. Renaud was chosen to go with him, and before they
+were within three miles of the fatal place Renaud pointed to a very
+large track crossing from the east to the west bank of the river, just
+after the Dog sled. He ran it backward for a mile or more on the
+eastern bank, noted how it had walked when the Dogs walked and run when
+they ran, before he turned to the Factor and said: "A beeg Voolf--he
+come after ze cariole all ze time."
+
+Now they followed the track where it had crossed to the west shore. Two
+miles above Kildonan woods the Wolf had stopped his gallop to walk over
+to the sled trail, had followed it a few yards, then had returned to
+the woods.
+
+"Paul he drop somesin' here, ze packet maybe; ze Voolf he come for
+smell. He follow so--now he know zat eez ze drunken Paul vot slash heem
+on ze head."
+
+A mile farther the Wolf track came galloping on the ice behind the
+cariole. The man track disappeared now, for the driver had leaped on
+the sled and lashed the Dogs. Here is where he cut adrift the bundles.
+That is why things were scattered over the ice. See how the Dogs were
+bounding under the lash. Here was the Fiddler's knife in the snow. He
+must have dropped it in trying to use it on the Wolf. And here-what!
+the Wolf track disappears, but the sled track speeds along. The Wolf
+has leaped on the sled. The Dogs, in terror, added to their speed; but
+on the sleigh behind them there is a deed of vengeance done. In a
+moment it is over; both roll off the sled; the Wolf track reappears on
+the east side to seek the woods. The sled swerves to the west bank,
+where, after half a mile, it is caught and wrecked on a root.
+
+The snow also told Renaud how the Dogs, entangled in the harness, had
+fought with each other, had cut themselves loose, and trotting homeward
+by various ways up the river, had gathered at the body of their late
+tyrant and devoured him at a meal.
+
+Bad enough for the Dogs, still they were cleared of the murder. That
+certainly was done by the Wolf, and Renaud, after the shock of horror
+was past, gave a sigh of relief and added, "Eet is le Garou. He hab
+save my leel girl from zat Paul. He always was good to children."
+
+
+VI
+
+This was the cause of the great final hunt that they fixed for
+Christmas Day just two years after the scene at the grave of Little
+Jim. It seemed as though all the Dogs in the country were brought
+together. The three Huskies were there--the Factor considered them
+essential--there were Danes and trailers and a rabble of farm Dogs and
+nondescripts. They spent the morning beating all the woods east of St.
+Boniface and had no success. But a telephone message came that the
+trail they sought had been seen near the Assiniboine woods west of the
+city, and an hour later the hunt was yelling on the hot scent of the
+Winnipeg Wolf.
+
+Away they went, a rabble of Dogs, a motley rout of horsemen, a mob of
+men and boys on foot. Garou had no fear of the Dogs, but men he knew
+had guns and were dangerous. He led off for the dark timber line of the
+Assiniboine, but the horsemen had open country and they headed him
+back. He coursed along the Colony Creek hollow and so eluded the
+bullets already flying. He made for a barb-wire fence, and passing that
+he got rid of the horsemen for a time, but still must keep the hollow
+that baffled the bullets. The Dogs were now closing on him. All he
+might have asked would probably have been to be left alone with
+them--forty or fifty to one as they were--he would have taken the odds.
+The Dogs were all around him now, but none dared to close in, A lanky
+Hound, trusting to his speed, ran alongside at length and got a side
+chop from Garou that laid him low. The horsemen were forced to take a
+distant way around, but now the chase was toward the town, and more men
+and Dogs came running out to join the fray.
+
+The Wolf turned toward the slaughter-house, a familiar resort, and the
+shooting ceased on account of the houses, as well as the Dogs, being so
+near. These were indeed now close enough to encircle him and hinder all
+further flight. He looked for a place to guard his rear for a final
+stand, and seeing a wooden foot-bridge over a gutter he sprang in,
+there faced about and held the pack at bay. The men got bars and
+demolished the bridge. He leaped out, knowing now that he had to die,
+but ready, wishing only to make a worthy fight, and then for the first
+time in broad day view of all his foes he stood--the shadowy
+Dog-killer, the disembodied voice of St. Boniface woods, the wonderful
+Winnipeg Wolf.
+
+
+VII
+
+At last after three long years of fight he stood before them alone,
+confronting twoscore Dogs, and men with guns to back them--but facing
+them just as resolutely as I saw him that day in the wintry woods. The
+same old curl was on his lips--the hard-knit flanks heaved just a
+little, but his green and yellow eye glowed steadily. The Dogs closed
+in, led not by the huge Huskies from the woods--they evidently knew too
+much for that--but by a Bulldog from the town; there was scuffling of
+many feet; a low rumbling for a time replaced the yapping of the pack;
+a flashing of those red and grizzled jaws, a momentary hurl back of the
+onset, and again he stood alone and braced, the grim and grand old
+bandit that he was. Three times they tried and suffered. Their boldest
+were lying about him. The first to go down was the Bulldog. Learning
+wisdom now, the Dogs held back, less sure; but his square-built chest
+showed never a sign of weakness yet, and after waiting impatiently he
+advanced a few steps, and thus, alas! gave to the gunners their
+long-expected chance. Three rifles rang, and in the snow Garou went
+down at last, his life of combat done.
+
+He had made his choice. His days were short and crammed with quick
+events. His tale of many peaceful years was spent in three of daily
+brunt. He picked his trail, a new trail, high and short. He chose to
+drink his cup at a single gulp, and break the glass-but he left a
+deathless name.
+
+Who can look into the mind of the Wolf? Who can show us his wellspring
+of motive? Why should he still cling to a place of endless tribulation?
+It could not be because he knew no other country, for the region is
+limitless, food is everywhere, and he was known at least as far as
+Selkirk. Nor could his motive be revenge. No animal will give up its
+whole life to seeking revenge; that evil kind of mind is found in man
+alone. The brute creation seeks for peace.
+
+There is then but one remaining bond to chain him, and that the
+strongest claim that anything can own--the mightiest force on earth.
+
+The Wolf is gone. The last relic of him was lost in the burning Grammar
+School, but to this day the sexton of St. Boniface Church avers that
+the tolling bell on Christmas Eve never fails to provoke that weird and
+melancholy Wolf-cry from the wooded graveyard a hundred steps away,
+where they laid his Little Jim, the only being on earth that ever met
+him with the touch of love.
+
+
+
+
+THE LEGEND OF THE WHITE REINDEER
+
+
+  Skoal! Skoal! For Norway Skoal!
+  Sing ye the song of the Vand-dam troll.
+  When I am hiding
+  Norway's luck
+  On a White Storbuk
+  Comes riding, riding.
+
+
+Bleak, black, deep, and cold is Utrovand, a long pocket of glacial
+water, a crack in the globe, a wrinkle in the high Norwegian mountains,
+blocked with another mountain, and flooded with a frigid flood, three
+thousand feet above its Mother Sea, and yet no closer to its Father Sun.
+
+Around its cheerless shore is a belt of stunted trees, that sends a
+long tail up the high valley, till it dwindles away to sticks and moss,
+as it also does some half-way up the granite hills that rise a thousand
+feet, encompassing the lake. This is the limit of trees, the end of the
+growth of wood. The birch and willow are the last to drop out of the
+long fight with frost. Their miniature thickets are noisy with the
+cries of Fieldfare, Pipit, and Ptarmigan, but these are left behind on
+nearing the upper plateau, where shade of rock and sough of wind are
+all that take their place. The chilly Hoifjeld rolls away, a rugged,
+rocky plain, with great patches of snow in all the deeper hollows, and
+the distance blocked by snowy peaks that rise and roll and whiter
+gleam, till, dim and dazzling in the north, uplifts the Jotunheim, the
+home of spirits, of glaciers, and of the lasting snow.
+
+The treeless stretch is one vast attest to the force of heat. Each
+failure of the sun by one degree is marked by a lower realm of life.
+The northern slope of each hollow is less boreal than its southern
+side. The pine and spruce have given out long ago; the mountain-ash
+went next; the birch and willow climbed up half the slope. Here,
+nothing grows but creeping plants and moss. The plain itself is pale
+grayish green, one vast expanse of reindeer-moss, but warmed at spots
+into orange by great beds of polytrichum, and, in sunnier nooks,
+deepened to a herbal green. The rocks that are scattered everywhere are
+of a delicate lilac, but each is variegated with spreading frill-edged
+plasters of gray-green lichen or orange powder-streaks and beauty-spots
+of black. These rocks have great power to hold the heat, so that each
+of them is surrounded by a little belt of heat-loving plants that could
+not otherwise live so high. Dwarfed representatives of the birch and
+willow both are here, hugging the genial rock, as an old French
+habitant hugs his stove in winter-time, spreading their branches over
+it, instead of in the frigid air. A foot away is seen a chillier belt
+of heath, and farther off, colder, where none else can grow, is the
+omnipresent gray-green reindeer-moss that gives its color to the
+upland. The hollows are still filled with snow, though now it is June.
+But each of these white expanses is shrinking, spending itself in
+ice-cold streams that somehow reach the lake. These snö-flaks show no
+sign of life, not even the 'red-snow' tinge, and around each is a belt
+of barren earth, to testify that life and warmth can never be divorced.
+
+Birdless and lifeless, the gray-green snow-pied waste extends over all
+the stretch that is here between the timber-line and the snow-line,
+above which winter never quits its hold. Farther north both come lower,
+till the timber-line is at the level of the sea; and all the land is in
+that treeless belt called Tundra in the Old World, and Barrens in the
+New, and that everywhere is the Home of the Reindeer--the Realm of the
+Reindeer-moss.
+
+
+I
+
+In and out it flew, in and out, over the water and under, as the
+Varsimle', the leader doe of the Reindeer herd, walked past on the
+vernal banks, and it sang:--
+
+"Skoal! Skoal! Gamle Norge Skoal!" and more about "a White Reindeer and
+Norway's good luck," as though the singer were gifted with special
+insight.
+
+When old Sveggum built the Vand-dam on the Lower Hoifjeld, just above
+the Utrovand, and set his ribesten a-going, he supposed that he was the
+owner of it all. But some one was there before him. And in and out of
+the spouting stream this some one dashed, and sang songs that he made
+up to fit the place and the time. He skipped from skjaeke to skjaeke of
+the wheel, and did many things which Sveggum could set down only to
+luck--whatever that is; and some said that Sveggum's luck was a
+Wheel-troll, a Water-fairy, with a brown coat and a white beard, one
+that lived on land or in water, as he pleased.
+
+But most of Sveggum's neighbors saw only a Fossekal, the little
+Waterfall Bird that came each year and danced in the stream, or dived
+where the pool is deep. And maybe both were right, for some of the very
+oldest peasants will tell you that a Fairy-troll may take the form of a
+man or the form of a bird. Only this bird lived a life no bird can
+live, and sang songs that men never had sung in Norway. Wonderful
+vision had he, and sights he saw that man never saw. For the Fieldfare
+would build before him, and the Lemming fed its brood under his very
+eyes. Eyes were they to see; for the dark speck on Suletind that man
+could barely glimpse was a Reindeer, with half-shed coat, to him and
+the green slime on the Vandren was beautiful green pasture with a
+banquet spread.
+
+Oh, Man is so blind, and makes himself so hated! But Fossekal harmed
+none, so none were afraid of him. Only he sang, and his songs were
+sometimes mixed with fun and prophecy, or perhaps a little scorn.
+
+From the top of the tassel-birch he could mark the course of the
+Vand-dam stream past the Nystuen hamlet to lose itself in the gloomy
+waters of Utrovand or by a higher flight he could see across the barren
+upland that rolled to Jotunheim in the north.
+
+The great awakening was on now. The springtime had already reached the
+woods; the valleys were a-throb with life; new birds coming from the
+south, winter sleepers reappearing, and the Reindeer that had wintered
+in the lower woods should soon again be seen on the uplands.
+
+Not without a fight do the Frost Giants give up the place so long their
+own; a great battle was in progress; but the Sun was slowly, surely
+winning, and driving them back to their Jotunheim. At every hollow and
+shady place they made another stand, or sneaked back by night, only to
+suffer another defeat. Hard hitters these, as they are stubborn
+fighters; many a granite rock was split and shattered by their blows in
+reckless fight, so that its inner fleshy tints were shown and warmly
+gleamed among the gray-green rocks that dotted the plain, like the
+countless flocks of Thor. More or less of these may be found at every
+place of battle-brunt, and straggled along the slope of Suletind was a
+host that reached for half a mile. But stay! these moved. Not rocks
+were they, but living creatures.
+
+They drifted along erratically, yet one way, all up the wind. They
+swept out of sight in a hollow, to reappear on a ridge much nearer, and
+serried there against the sky, we marked their branching horns, and
+knew them for the Reindeer in their home.
+
+The band came drifting our way, feeding like Sheep, grunting like only
+themselves. Each one found a grazing-spot, stood there till it was
+cleared off, then trotted on crackling hoofs to the front in search of
+another. So the band was ever changing in rank and form. But one there
+was that was always at or near the van--a large and well-favored
+Simle', or Hind. However much the band might change and spread, she was
+in the forefront, and the observant would soon have seen signs that she
+had an influence over the general movement--that she, indeed, was the
+leader. Even the big Bucks, in their huge velvet-clad antlers, admitted
+this untitular control; and if one, in a spirit of independence,
+evinced a disposition to lead elsewhere, he soon found himself
+uncomfortably alone.
+
+The Varsimle', or leading Hind, had kept the band hovering, for the
+last week or two, along the timber-line, going higher each day to the
+baring uplands, where the snow was clearing and the deer-flies were
+blown away. As the pasture zone had climbed she had followed in her
+daily foraging, returning to the sheltered woods at sundown, for the
+wild things fear the cold night wind even as man does. But now the
+deer-flies were rife in the woods, and the rocky hillside nooks warm
+enough for the nightly bivouac, so the woodland was deserted.
+
+Probably the leader of a band of animals does not consciously pride
+itself on leadership, yet has an uncomfortable sensation when not
+followed. But there are times with all when solitude is sought. The
+Varsimle' had been fat and well through the winter, yet now was
+listless, and lingered with drooping head as the grazing herd moved
+past her.
+
+Sometimes she stood gazing blankly while the unchewed bunch of moss
+hung from her mouth, then roused to go on to the front as before; but
+the spells of vacant stare and the hankering to be alone grew stronger.
+She turned downward to seek the birch woods, but the whole band turned
+with her. She stood stock-still, with head down. They grazed and
+grunted past, leaving her like a statue against the hillside. When all
+had gone on, she slunk quietly away; walked a few steps, looked about,
+made a pretense of grazing, snuffed the ground, looked after the herd,
+and scanned the hills; then downward fared toward the sheltering woods.
+
+Once as she peered over a bank she sighted another Simle', a doe
+Reindeer, uneasily wandering by itself. But the Varsimle' wished not
+for company. She did not know why, but she felt that she must hide away
+somewhere.
+
+She stood still until the other had passed on, then turned aside, and
+went with faster steps and less wavering, till she came in view of
+Utrovand, away down by the little stream that turns old Sveggum's
+ribesten. Up above the dam she waded across the limpid stream, for
+deep-laid and sure is the instinct of a wild animal to put running
+water between itself and those it shuns. Then, on the farther bank, now
+bare and slightly green, she turned, and passing in and out among the
+twisted trunks, she left the noisy Vand-dam. On the higher ground
+beyond she paused, looked this way and that, went on a little, but
+returned; and here, completely shut in by softly painted rocks, and
+birches wearing little springtime hangers, she seemed inclined to rest;
+yet not to rest, for she stood uneasily this way and that, driving away
+the flies that settled on her legs, heeding not at all the growing
+grass, and thinking she was hid from all the world.
+
+But nothing escapes the Fossekal. He had seen her leave the herd, and
+now he sat on a gorgeous rock that overhung, and sang as though he had
+waited for this and knew that the fate of the nation might turn on what
+passed in this far glen. He sang:
+
+  Skoal! Skoal! For Norway Skoal!
+  Sing ye the song of the Vand-dam troll.
+  When I am hiding
+  Norway's luck
+  On a White Storbuk
+  Comes riding, riding.
+
+
+There are no Storks in Norway, and yet an hour later there was a
+wonderful little Reindeer lying beside the Varsimle'. She was brushing
+his coat, licking and mothering him, proud and happy as though this was
+the first little Renskalv ever born. There might be hundreds born in
+the herd that month, but probably no more like this one, for he was
+snowy white, and the song of the singer on the painted rock was about
+
+  Good luck, good luck,
+  And a White Storbuk,
+
+as though he foresaw clearly the part that the White Calf was to play
+when he grew to be a Storbuk.
+
+But another wonder now came to pass. Before an hour, there was a second
+little Calf--a brown one this time. Strange things happen, and hard
+things are done when they needs must. Two hours later, when the
+Varsimle' led the White Calf away from the place, there was no Brown
+Calf, only some flattened rags with calf-hair on them.
+
+The mother was wise: better one strongling than two weaklings. Within a
+few days the Simle' once more led the band, and running by her side was
+the White Calf. The Varsimle' considered him in all things, so that he
+really set the pace for the band, which suited very well all the
+mothers that now had Calves with them. Big, strong, and wise was the
+Varsimle', in the pride of her strength, and this White Calf was the
+flower of her prime. He often ran ahead of his mother as she led the
+herd, and Rol, coming on them one day, laughed aloud at the sight as
+they passed, old and young, fat Simle' and antlered Storbuk, a great
+brown herd, all led, as it seemed, by a little White Calf.
+
+So they drifted away to the high mountains, to be gone all summer.
+"Gone to be taught by the spirits who dwell where the Black  Loon
+laughs on the ice," said Lief of the Lower Dale; but Sveggum, who had
+always been among the Reindeer, said: "Their mothers are the teachers,
+even as ours are."
+
+When the autumn came, old Sveggum saw a moving sno-flack far off on the
+brown moor-land; but the Troll saw a white yearling, a Nekbuk; and when
+they ranged alongside of Utrovand to drink, the still sheet seemed
+fully to reflect the White One, though it barely sketched in the
+others, with the dark hills behind.
+
+Many a little Calf had come that spring, and had drifted away on the
+moss-barrens, to come back no more; for some were weaklings and some
+were fools; some fell by the way, for that is law; and some would not
+learn the rules, and so died. But the White Calf was strongest of them
+all, and he was wise, so he learned of his mother, who was wisest of
+them all. He learned that the grass on the sun side of a rock is sweet,
+and though it looks the same in the dark hollows, it is there
+worthless. He learned that when his mother's hoofs crackled he must be
+up and moving, and when all the herd's hoofs crackled there was danger,
+and he must keep by his mother's side. For this crackling is like the
+whistling of a Whistler Duck's wings: it is to keep the kinds together.
+He learned that where the little Bomuldblomster hangs its Cotton tufts
+is dangerous bog; that the harsh cackle of the Ptarmigan means that
+close at hand are Eagles, as dangerous for Fawn as for Bird. He learned
+that the little troll-berries are deadly, that when the verra-flies
+come stinging he must take refuge on a snow-patch, and that of all
+animal smells only that of his mother was to be fully trusted. He
+learned that he was growing. His flat calf sides and big joints were
+changing to the full barrel and clean limbs of the Yearling, and the
+little bumps which began to show on his head when he was only a
+fortnight old were now sharp, hard spikes that could win in fight.
+
+More than once they had smelt that dreaded destroyer of the north that
+men call the Gjerv or Wolverene; and one day, as this danger-scent came
+suddenly and in great strength, a huge blot of dark brown sprang
+rumbling from a rocky ledge, and straight for the foremost--the White
+Calf. His eye caught the flash of a whirling, shaggy mass, with
+gleaming teeth and eyes, hot-breathed and ferocious. Blank horror set
+his hair on end; his nostrils flared in fear: but before he fled there
+rose within another feeling--one of anger at the breaker of his peace,
+a sense that swept all fear away, braced his legs, and set his horns at
+charge. The brown brute landed with a deep-chested growl, to be
+received on the young one's spikes. They pierced him deeply, but the
+shock was overmuch; it bore the White One down, and he might yet have
+been killed but that his mother, alert and ever near, now charged the
+attacking monster, and heavier, better armed, she hurled and speared
+him to the ground. And the White Calf, with a very demon glare in his
+once mild eyes, charged too; and even after the Wolverene was a mere
+hairy mass, and his mother had retired to feed, he came, snorting out
+his rage, to drive his spikes into the hateful thing, till his snowy
+head was stained with his adversary's blood.
+
+Thus he showed that below the ox-like calm exterior was the fighting
+beast; that he was like the men of the north, rugged, square-built,
+calm, slow to wrath, but when aroused "seeing red."
+
+When they ranked together by the lake that fall, the Fossekal sang his
+old song:
+
+  When I am hiding
+  Norway's luck
+  On a White Storbuk
+  Comes riding, riding,
+
+as though this was something he had awaited, then disappeared no one
+knew where. Old Sveggum had seen it flying through the stream, as birds
+fly through the air, walking in the bottom of a deep pond as a
+Ptarmigan walks on the rocks, living as no bird can live; and now the
+old man said it had simply gone southward for the winter. But old
+Sveggum could neither read nor write: how should he know?
+
+
+II
+
+Each springtime when the Reindeer passed over Sveggum's mill-run, as
+they moved from the lowland woods to the bleaker shore of Utrovand, the
+Fossekal was there to sing about the White Storbuk, which each year
+became more truly the leader.
+
+That first spring he stood little higher than a Hare. When he came to
+drink in the autumn, his back was above the rock where Sveggum's stream
+enters Utrovand. Next year he barely passed under the stunted birch,
+and the third year the Fossekal on the painted rock was looking up, not
+down, at him as he passed. This was the autumn when Rol and Sveggum
+sought the Hoifjeld to round up their half-wild herd and select some of
+the strongest for the sled. There was but one opinion about the
+Storbuk. Higher than the others, heavier, white as snow, with a mane
+that swept the shallow drifts, breasted like a Horse and with horns
+like a storm-grown oak, he was king of the herd, and might easily be
+king of the road.
+
+There are two kinds of deer-breakers, as there are two kinds of
+horse-breakers: one that tames and teaches the animal, and gets a
+spirited, friendly helper; one that aims to break its spirit, and gets
+only a sullen slave, ever ready to rebel and wreak its hate. Many a
+Lapp and many a Norsk has paid with his life for brutality to his
+Reindeer, and Rol's days were shortened by his own pulk-Ren. But
+Sveggum was of gentler sort. To him fell the training of the White
+Storbuk. It was slow, for the Buck resented all liberties from man, as
+he did from his brothers; but kindness, not fear, was the power that
+tamed him, and when he had learned to obey and glory in the sled race,
+it was a noble sight to see the great white mild-eyed beast striding
+down the long snow-stretch of Utrovand, the steam jetting from his
+nostrils, the snow swirling up before like the curling waves on a
+steamer's bow, sled, driver, and Deer all dim in flying white.
+
+Then came the Yule-tide Fair, with the races on the ice, and Utrovand
+for once was gay. The sullen hills about reechoed with merry shouting.
+The Reindeer races were first, with many a mad mischance for laughter.
+Rol himself was there with his swiftest sled Deer, a tall, dark,
+five-year-old, in his primest prime. But over-eager, over-brutal, he
+harried the sullen, splendid slave till in mid-race--just when in a way
+to win--it turned at a cruel blow, and Rol took refuge under the
+upturned sled until it had vented its rage against the wood; and so he
+lost the race, and the winner was the young White Storbuk. Then he won
+the five-mile race around the lake; and for each triumph Sveggum hung a
+little silver bell on his harness, so that now he ran and won to merry
+music.
+
+Then came the Horse races,--running races these; the Reindeer only
+trots,--and when Balder, the victor Horse, received his ribbon and his
+owner the purse, came Sveggum with all his winnings in his hand, and
+said: "Ho, Lars, thine is a fine Horse, but mine is a better Storbuk;
+let us put our winnings together and race, each his beast, for all."
+
+A Ren against a Race-horse--such a race was never seen till now. Off at
+the pistol-crack they flew. "Ho, Balder! (cluck!) Ho, hi, Balder!" Away
+shot the beautiful Racer, and the Storbuk, striding at a slower trot,
+was left behind.
+
+"Ho, Balder!" "Hi, Storbuk!" How the people cheered as the Horse went
+bounding and gaining! But he had left the line at his top speed; the
+Storbuk's rose as he flew--faster--faster. The Pony ceased to gain. A
+mile whirled by; the gap began to close. The Pony had over-spurted at
+the start, but the Storbuk was warming to his work--striding evenly,
+swiftly, faster yet, as Sveggum cried in encouragement: "Ho, Storbuk!
+good Storbuk!" or talked to him only with a gentle rein. At the
+turning-point the pair were neck and neck; then the Pony--though well
+driven and well shod-slipped on the ice, and thenceforth held back as
+though in fear, so the Storbuk steamed away. The Pony and his driver
+were far behind when a roar from every human throat in Filefjeld told
+that the Storbuk had passed the wire and won the race. And yet all this
+was before the White Ren had reached the years of his full strength and
+speed.
+
+Once that day Rol essayed to drive the Storbuk. They set off at a good
+pace, the White Buk ready, responsive to the single rein, and his mild
+eyes veiled by his drooping lashes. But, without any reason other than
+the habit of brutality, Rol struck him. In a moment there was a change.
+The Racer's speed was checked, all four legs braced forward till he
+stood; the drooping lids were raised, the eyes rolled--there was a
+green light in them now. Three puffs of steam were jetted from each
+nostril. Rol shouted, then, scenting danger, quickly upset the sled and
+hid beneath. The Storbuk turned to charge the sled, sniffing and
+tossing the snow with his foot; but little Knute, Sveggum's son, ran
+forward and put his arms around the Storbuk's neck; then the fierce
+look left the Reindeer's eye, and he suffered the child to lead him
+quietly back to the starting-point. Beware, O driver! the Reindeer,
+too, "sees red."
+
+This was the coming of the White Storbuk for the folk of Filefjeld.
+
+In the two years that followed he became famous throughout that country
+as Sveggum's Storbuk, and many a strange exploit was told of him. In
+twenty minutes he could carry old Sveggum round the six-mile rim of
+Utrovand. When the snow-slide buried all the village of Holaker, it was
+the Storbuk that brought the word for help to Opdalstole and returned
+again over the forty miles of deep snow in seven hours, to carry
+brandy, food, and promise of speedy aid.
+
+When over-venturesome young Knute Sveggumsen broke through the new thin
+ice of Utrovand, his cry for help brought the Storbuk to the rescue;
+for he was the gentlest of his kind and always ready to come at call.
+
+He brought the drowning boy in triumph to the shore, and as they
+crossed the Vand-dam stream, there was the Troll-bird to sing:
+
+  Good luck, good luck,
+  With the White Storbuk.
+
+After which he disappeared for months--doubtless dived into some
+subaqueous cave to feast and revel all winter; although Sveggum did not
+believe it was so.
+
+
+III
+
+How often is the fate of kingdoms given into child hands, or even
+committed to the care of Bird or Beast! A She-wolf nursed the Roman
+Empire. A Wren pecking crumbs on a drum-head aroused the Orange army,
+it is said, and ended the Stuart reign in Britain. Little wonder, then,
+that to a noble Reindeer Buk should be committed the fate of Norway:
+that the Troll on the wheel should have reason in his rhyme.
+
+These were troublous times in Scandinavia. Evil men, traitors at heart,
+were sowing dissension between the brothers Norway and Sweden. "Down
+with the Union!" was becoming the popular cry.
+
+Oh, unwise peoples! If only you could have been by Sveggum's wheel to
+hear the Troll when he sang:
+
+  The Raven and the Lion
+  They held the Bear at bay;
+  But he picked the bones of both
+  When they quarrelled by the way.
+
+Threats of civil war, of a fight for independence, were heard
+throughout Norway. Meetings were held more or less secretly, and at
+each of them was some one with well-filled pockets and glib tongue, to
+enlarge on the country's wrongs, and promise assistance from an outside
+irresistible power as soon as they showed that they meant to strike for
+freedom. No one openly named the power. That was not necessary; it was
+everywhere felt and understood. Men who were real patriots began to
+believe in it. Their country was wronged. Here was one to set her
+right. Men whose honor was beyond question became secret agents of this
+power. The state was honeycombed and mined; society was a tangle of
+plots. The king was helpless, though his only wish was for the people's
+welfare. Honest and straightforward, what could he do against this
+far-reaching machination? The very advisers by his side were corrupted
+through mistaken patriotism. The idea that they were playing into the
+hands of the foreigner certainly never entered into the minds of these
+dupes--at least, not those of the rank and file. One or two, tried,
+selected, and bought by the arch-enemy, knew the real object in view,
+and the chief of these was Borgrevinck, a former lansman of Nordlands.
+A man of unusual gifts, a member of the Storthing, a born leader, he
+might have been prime minister long ago, but for the distrust inspired
+by several unprincipled dealings. Soured by what he considered want of
+appreciation, balked in his ambition, he was a ready tool when the
+foreign agent sounded him. At first his patriotism had to be sopped,
+but that necessity disappeared as the game went on, and perhaps he
+alone, of the whole far-reaching conspiracy, was prepared to strike at
+the Union for the benefit of the foreigner.
+
+Plans were being perfected,--army officers being secretly misled and
+won over by the specious talk of "their country's wrongs," and each
+move made Borgrevinck more surely the head of it all,--when a quarrel
+between himself and the "deliverer" occurred over the question of
+recompense. Wealth untold they were willing to furnish; but regal
+power, never. The quarrel became more acute. Borgrevinck continued to
+attend all meetings, but was ever more careful to centre all power in
+himself, and even prepared to turn round to the king's party if
+necessary to further his ambition. The betrayal of his followers would
+purchase his own safety. But proofs he must have, and he set about
+getting signatures to a declaration of rights which was simply a veiled
+confession of treason. Many of the leaders he had deluded into signing
+this before the meeting at Laersdalsoren. Here they met in the early
+winter, some twenty of the patriots, some of them men of position, all
+of them men of brains and power. Here, in the close and stifling
+parlor, they planned, discussed, and questioned. Great hopes were
+expressed, great deeds were forecast, in that stove-hot room.
+
+Outside, against the fence, in the winter night, was a Great White
+Reindeer, harnessed to a sled, but lying down with his head doubled
+back on his side as he slept, calm, unthoughtful, ox-like. Which seemed
+likelier to decide the nation's fate, the earnest thinkers indoors, or
+the ox-like sleeper without? Which seemed more vital to Israel, the
+bearded council in King Saul's tent, or the light-hearted shepherd-boy
+hurling stones across the brook at Bethlehem? At Laersdalsoren it was
+as before: deluded by Borgrevinck's eloquent plausibility, all put
+their heads in the noose, their lives and country in his hands, seeing
+in this treacherous monster a very angel of self-sacrificing
+patriotism. All? No, not all. Old Sveggum was there. He could neither
+read nor write. That was his excuse for not signing. He could not read
+a letter in a book, but he could read something of the hearts of men.
+As the meeting broke up he whispered to Axel Tanberg: "Is his own name
+on that paper?" And Axel, starting at the thought, said: "No." Then
+said Sveggum: "I don't trust that man. They ought to know of this at
+Nystuen." For there was to be the really important meeting. But how to
+let them know was the riddle. Borgrevinck was going there at once with
+his fast Horses.
+
+Sveggum's eye twinkled as he nodded toward the Storbuk, standing tied
+to the fence. Borgrevinck leaped into his sleigh and went off at speed,
+for he was a man of energy. Sveggum took the bells from the harness,
+untied the Reindeer, stepped into the pulk. He swung the single rein,
+clucked to the Storbuk, and also turned his head toward Nystuen. The
+fast Horses had a long start, but before they had climbed the eastward
+hill Sveggum needs must slack, so as not to overtake them. He held back
+till they came to the turn above the woods at Maristuen; then he quit
+the road, and up the river flat he sped the Buk, a farther way, but the
+only way to bring them there ahead.
+
+Squeak, crack-squeak, crack-squeak, crack--at regular intervals from
+the great spreading snow-shoes of the Storbuk, and the steady sough of
+his breath was like the Nordland as she passes up the Hardanger Fjord.
+High up, on the smooth road to the left, they could hear the jingle of
+the horse-bells and the shouting of Borgrevinck's driver, who, under
+orders, was speeding hard for Nystuen.
+
+The highway was a short road and smooth, and the river valley was long
+and rough; but when, in four hours, Borgrevinck got to Nystuen, there
+in the throng was a face that he had just left at Laersdalsoren. He
+appeared not to notice, though nothing ever escaped him.
+
+At Nystuen none of the men would sign. Some one had warned them. This
+was serious; might be fatal at such a critical point. As he thought it
+over, his suspicions turned more and more to Sveggum, the old fool that
+could not write his name at Laersdalsoren. But how did he get there
+before himself with his speedy Horses?
+
+There was a dance at Nystuen that night; the dance was necessary to
+mask the meeting; and during that Borgrevinck learned of the swift
+White Ren.
+
+The Nystuen trip had failed, thanks to the speed of the White Buk.
+Borgrevinck must get to Bergen before word of this, or all would be
+lost. There was only one way, to be sure of getting there before any
+one else. Possibly word had already gone from Laersdalsoren. But even
+at that, Borgrevinck could get there and save himself, at the price of
+all Norway, if need be, provided he went with the White Storbuk. He
+would not be denied. He was not the man to give up a point, though it
+took all the influence he could bring to bear, this time, to get old
+Sveggum's leave.
+
+The Storbuk was quietly sleeping in the corral when Sveggum came to
+bring him. He rose leisurely, hind legs first, stretched one, then the
+other, curling his tail tight on his back as he did so, shook the hay
+from the great antlers as though they were a bunch of twigs, and slowly
+followed Sveggum at the end of the tight halter. He was so sleepy and
+slow that Borgrevinck impatiently gave him a kick, and got for response
+a short snort from the Buk, and from Sveggum an earnest warning, both
+of which were somewhat scornfully received. The tinkling bells on the
+harness had been replaced, but Borgrevinck wanted them removed. He
+wished to go in silence. Sveggum would not be left behind when his
+favorite Ren went forth, so he was given a seat in the horse-sleigh
+which was to follow, and the driver thereof received from his master a
+secret hint to delay.
+
+Then, with papers on his person to death-doom a multitude of misguided
+men, with fiendish intentions in his heart as well as the power to
+carry them out, and with the fate of Norway in his hands, Borgrevinck
+was made secure in the sled, behind the White Storbuk, and sped at dawn
+on his errand of desolation.
+
+At the word from Sveggum the White Ren set off with a couple of bounds
+that threw Borgrevinck back in the pulk. This angered him, but he
+swallowed his wrath on seeing that it left the horse-sleigh behind. He
+shook the line, shouted, and the Buk settled down to a long, swinging
+trot. His broad hoofs clicked double at every stride. His nostrils, out
+level, puffed steady blasts of steam in the frosty morning as he
+settled to his pace. The pulk's prow cut two long shears of snow, that
+swirled up over man and sled till all were white. And the great ox-eyes
+of the King Ren blazed joyously in the delight of motion, and of
+conquest too, as the sound of the horse-bells faded far behind.
+
+Even masterful Borgrevinck could not but mark with pleasure the noble
+creature that had balked him last night and now was lending its speed
+to his purpose; for it was his intention to arrive hours before the
+horse-sleigh, if possible.
+
+Up the rising road they sped as though downhill, and the driver's
+spirits rose with the exhilarating speed. The snow groaned ceaselessly
+under the prow of the pulk, and the frosty creaking under the hoofs of
+the flying Ren was like the gritting of mighty teeth. Then came the
+level stretch from Nystuen's hill to Dalecarl's, and as they whirled by
+in the early day, little Carl chanced to peep from a window, and got
+sight of the Great White Ren in a white pulk with a white driver, just
+as it is in the stories of the Giants, and clapped his hands, and
+cried, "Good, good!"
+
+But his grandfather, when he caught a glimpse of the white wonder that
+went without even sound of bells, felt a cold chill in his scalp, and
+went back to light a candle that he kept at the window till the sun was
+high, for surely this was the Storbuk of Jotunheim.
+
+But the Ren whirled on, and the driver shook the reins and thought only
+of Bergen. He struck the White Steed with the loose end of the rope.
+The Buk gave three great snorts and three great bounds, then faster
+went, and as they passed by Dyrskaur, where the Giant sits on the edge,
+his head was muffled in scud, which means that a storm is coming. The
+Storbuk knew it. He sniffed, and eyed the sky with anxious look, and
+even slacked a little; but Borgrevinck yelled at the speeding beast,
+though going yet as none but he could go, and struck him once, twice,
+and thrice, and harder yet. So the pulk was whirled along like a skiff
+in a steamer's wake; but there was blood in the Storbuk's eye now; and
+Borgrevinck was hard put to balance the sled. The miles flashed by like
+roods till Sveggum's bridge appeared. The storm-wind now was blowing,
+but there was the Troll. Whence came he now, none knew, but there he
+was, hopping on the keystone and singing of
+
+  Norway's fate and Norway's luck,
+  Of the hiding Troll and the riding Buk.
+
+Down the winding highway they came, curving inward as they swung around
+the corner. At the voice on the bridge the Deer threw back his ears and
+slackened his pace. Borgrevinck, not knowing whence it came, struck
+savagely at the Ren. The red light gleamed in those ox-like eyes. He
+snorted in anger and shook the great horns, but he did not stop to
+avenge the blow. For him was a vaster vengeance still. He onward sped
+as before, but from that time Borgrevinck had lost all control. The one
+voice that the Ren would hear had been left behind. They whirled aside,
+off the road, before the bridge was reached. The pulk turned over, but
+righted itself, and Borgrevinck would have been thrown out and killed
+but for the straps. It was not to be so; it seemed rather as though the
+every curse of Norway had been gathered into the sled for a purpose.
+Bruised and battered, he reappeared. The Troll from the bridge leaped
+lightly to the Storbuk's head, and held on to the horns as he danced
+and sang his ancient song, and a new song, too:
+
+  Ha! at last! Oh, lucky day,
+  Norway's curse to wipe away!
+
+Borgrevinck was terrified and furious. He struck harder at the Storbuk
+as he bounded over the rougher snow, and vainly tried to control him.
+He lost his head in fear. He got out his knife, at last, to strike at
+the wild Buk's hamstrings, but a blow from the hoof sent it flying from
+his hand. Their speed on the road was slow to that they now made: no
+longer striding at the trot, but bounding madly, great five-stride
+bounds, the wretched Borgrevinck strapped in the sled, alone and
+helpless through his own contriving, screaming, cursing, and praying.
+The Storbuk with bloodshot eyes, madly steaming, careered up the rugged
+ascent, up to the broken, stormy Hoifjeld; mounting the hills as a
+Petrel mounts the rollers, skimming the flats as a Fulmar skims the
+shore, he followed the trail where his mother had first led his
+tottering steps, up from the Vand-dam nook. He followed the old
+familiar route that he had followed for five years, where the
+white-winged Rype flies aside, where the black rock mountains, shining
+white, come near and block the sky, "where the Reindeer find their
+mysterie."
+
+On like the little snow-wreath that the storm-wind sends dancing before
+the storm, on like a whirlwind over the shoulder of Suletind, over the
+knees of Torholmenbrae--the Giants that sit at the gateway. Faster than
+man or beast could follow, up--up--up--and on; and no one saw them go,
+but a Raven that swooped behind, and flew as Raven never flew, and the
+Troll, the same old Troll that sang by the Vand-dam, and now danced and
+sang between the antlers:
+
+  Good luck, good luck for Norway
+  With the White Storbuk comes riding.
+
+Over Tvindehoug they faded like flying scud on the moorlands, on to the
+gloomy distance, away toward Jotunheim, the home of the Evil Spirits,
+the Land of the Lasting Snow. Their every sign and trail was wiped away
+by the drifting storm, and the end of them no man knows.
+
+The Norse folk awoke as from a horrid nightmare. Their national ruin
+was averted; there were no deaths, for there were no proofs; and the
+talebearer's strife was ended.
+
+The one earthly sign remaining from that drive is the string of silver
+bells that Sveggum had taken from the Storbuk's neck--the victory
+bells, each the record of a triumph won; and when the old man came to
+understand, he sighed, and hung to the string a final bell, the largest
+of them all.
+
+Nothing more was ever seen or heard of the creature who so nearly sold
+his country, or of the White Storbuk who balked him. Yet those who live
+near Jotunheim say that on stormy nights, when the snow is flying and
+the wind is raving in the woods, there sometimes passes, at frightful
+speed, an enormous White Reindeer with fiery eyes, drawing a snow-white
+pulk, in which is a screaming wretch in white, and on the head of the
+Deer, balancing by the horns, is a brown-clad, white-bearded Troll,
+bowing and grinning pleasantly at him, and singing
+
+  Of Norway's luck
+  And a White Storbuk--
+
+the same, they say, as the one that with prophetic vision sang by
+Sveggum's Vand-dam on a bygone day when the birches wore their
+springtime hangers, and a great mild-eyed Varsimle' came alone, to go
+away with a little white Renskalv walking slowly, demurely, by her side.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Animal Heroes, by Ernest Thompson Seton
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANIMAL HEROES ***
+
+***** This file should be named 2284-8.txt or 2284-8.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        https://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/8/2284/
+
+Produced by Bill Stoddard.  HTML version by Al Haines.
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+https://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/2284-8.zip b/2284-8.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..89a04d9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/2284-8.zip
diff --git a/2284-h.zip b/2284-h.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3601ad4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/2284-h.zip
diff --git a/2284-h/2284-h.htm b/2284-h/2284-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4918d7b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/2284-h/2284-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,7654 @@
+<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN">
+<HTML>
+<HEAD>
+
+<META HTTP-EQUIV="Content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1">
+
+<TITLE>
+The Project Gutenberg E-text of Animal Heroes, by Ernest Thompson Seton
+</TITLE>
+
+<STYLE TYPE="text/css">
+BODY { color: Black;
+       background: White;
+       margin-right: 10%;
+       margin-left: 10%;
+       font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;
+       text-align: justify }
+
+P {text-indent: 4% }
+
+P.noindent {text-indent: 0% }
+
+P.poem {text-indent: 0%;
+        margin-left: 10%;
+        font-size: small }
+
+P.letter {font-size: small ;
+          margin-left: 10% ;
+          margin-right: 10% }
+
+P.finis { text-align: center ;
+          text-indent: 0% ;
+          margin-left: 0% ;
+          margin-right: 0% }
+
+</STYLE>
+
+</HEAD>
+
+<BODY>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Animal Heroes, by Ernest Thompson Seton
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Animal Heroes
+
+Author: Ernest Thompson Seton
+
+Posting Date: March 21, 2009 [EBook #2284]
+Release Date: August, 2000
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANIMAL HEROES ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Bill Stoddard.  HTML version by Al Haines.
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<BR><BR>
+
+<H1 ALIGN="center">
+Animal Heroes
+</H1>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+by
+</H3>
+
+<H2 ALIGN="center">
+Ernest Thompson Seton
+</H2>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+Note to Reader
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+A hero is an individual of unusual gifts and achievements. Whether it
+be man or animal, this definition applies; and it is the histories of
+such that appeal to the imagination and to the hearts of those who hear
+them.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In this volume every one of the stories, though more or less composite,
+is founded on the actual life of a veritable animal hero. The most
+composite is the White Reindeer. This story I wrote by Utrovand in
+Norway during the summer of 1900, while the Reindeer herds grazed in
+sight on the near uplands.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Lynx is founded on some of my own early experiences in the
+backwoods.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It is less than ten years since the 'Jack Warhorse' won his hero-crown.
+Thousands of "Kaskadoans" will remember him, and by the name Warhorse
+his coursing exploits are recorded in several daily papers.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The least composite is Arnaux. It is so nearly historical that several
+who knew the bird have supplied additional items of information.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The nest of the destroying Peregrines, with its owners and their young,
+is now to be seen in the American Museum of Natural History of New
+York. The Museum authorities inform me that Pigeon badges with the
+following numbers were found in the nest: 9970-S, 1696, U. 63, 77, J.
+F. 52, Ex. 705, 6-1894, C 20900. Perhaps some Pigeon-lover may learn
+from these lines the fate of one or other wonderful flier that has long
+been recorded "never returned."
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<H2 ALIGN="center">
+CONTENTS
+</H2>
+
+<H4>
+  <A HREF="#slumcat">THE SLUM CAT</A><BR>
+  <A HREF="#arnaux">ARNAUX</A>&mdash;The Chronicle of a Homing Pigeon<BR>
+  <A HREF="#badlands">BADLANDS BILLY</A>&mdash;The Wolf that Won<BR>
+  <A HREF="#lynx">THE BOY AND THE LYNX</A><BR>
+  <A HREF="#warhorse">LITTLE WARHORSE</A>&mdash;The History of a Jack-rabbit<BR>
+  <A HREF="#snap">SNAP</A>&mdash;The Story of a Bull-Terrier<BR>
+  <A HREF="#wolf">THE WINNIPEG WOLF</A><BR>
+  <A HREF="#reindeer">THE LEGEND OF THE WHITE REINDEER</A><BR>
+</H4>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="slumcat"></A>
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE SLUM CAT
+</H3>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+LIFE I
+</H3>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+I
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+"M-e-a-t! M-e-a-t!" came shrilling down Scrimper's Alley. Surely the
+Pied Piper of Hamelin was there, for it seemed that all the Cats in the
+neighborhood were running toward the sound, though the Dogs, it must be
+confessed, looked scornfully indifferent.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Meat! Meat!" and louder; then the centre of attraction came in view&mdash;a
+rough, dirty little man with a push-cart; while straggling behind him
+were a score of Cats that joined in his cry with a sound nearly the
+same as his own. Every fifty yards, that is, as soon as a goodly throng
+of Cats was gathered, the push-cart stopped. The man with the magic
+voice took out of the box in his cart a skewer on which were pieces of
+strong-smelling boiled liver. With a long stick he pushed the pieces
+off. Each Cat seized on one, and wheeling, with a slight depression of
+the ears and a little tiger growl and glare, she rushed away with her
+prize to devour it in some safe retreat.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Meat! Meat!" And still they came to get their portions. All were well
+known to the meat-man. There was Castiglione's Tiger; this was Jones's
+Black; here was Pralitsky's "Torkershell," and this was Madame Danton's
+White; there sneaked Blenkinshoff's Maltee, and that climbing on the
+barrow was Sawyer's old Orange Billy, an impudent fraud that never had
+had any financial backing,&mdash;all to be remembered and kept in account.
+This one's owner was sure pay, a dime a week; that one's doubtful.
+There was John Washee's Cat, that got only a small piece because John
+was in arrears. Then there was the saloon-keeper's collared and
+ribboned ratter, which got an extra lump because the 'barkeep' was
+liberal; and the rounds-man's Cat, that brought no cash, but got
+unusual consideration because the meat-man did. But there were others.
+A black Cat with a white nose came rushing confidently with the rest,
+only to be repulsed savagely. Alas! Pussy did not understand. She had
+been a pensioner of the barrow for months. Why this unkind change? It
+was beyond her comprehension. But the meat-man knew. Her mistress had
+stopped payment. The meat-man kept no books but his memory, and it
+never was at fault.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Outside this patrician 'four hundred' about the barrow, were other
+Cats, keeping away from the push-cart because they were not on the
+list, the Social Register as it were, yet fascinated by the heavenly
+smell and the faint possibility of accidental good luck. Among these
+hangers-on was a thin gray Slummer, a homeless Cat that lived by her
+wits&mdash;slab-sided and not over-clean. One could see at a glance that she
+was doing her duty by a family in some out-of-the-way corner. She kept
+one eye on the barrow circle and the other on the possible Dogs.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She saw a score of happy Cats slink off with their delicious 'daily'
+and their tiger-like air, but no opening for her, till a big Tom of her
+own class sprang on a little pensioner with intent to rob. The victim
+dropped the meat to defend herself against the enemy, and before the
+'all-powerful' could intervene, the gray Slummer saw her chance, seized
+the prize, and was gone.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She went through the hole in Menzie's side door and over the wall at
+the back, then sat down and devoured the lump of liver, licked her
+chops, felt absolutely happy, and set out by devious ways to the
+rubbish-yard, where, in the bottom of an old cracker-box, her family
+was awaiting her. A plaintive mewing reached her ears. She went at
+speed and reached the box to see a huge Black Tom-cat calmly destroying
+her brood. He was twice as big as she, but she went at him with all her
+strength, and he did as most animals will do when caught wrong-doing,
+he turned and ran away. Only one was left, a little thing like its
+mother, but of more pronounced color&mdash;gray with black spots, and a
+white touch on nose, ears, and tail-tip. There can be no question of
+the mother's grief for a few days; but that wore off, and all her care
+was for the survivor. That benevolence was as far as possible from the
+motives of the murderous old Tom there can be no doubt; but he proved a
+blessing in deep disguise, for both mother and Kit were visibly
+bettered in a short time. The daily quest for food continued. The
+meat-man rarely proved a success, but the ash-cans were there, and if
+they did not afford a meat-supply, at least they were sure to produce
+potato-skins that could be used to allay the gripe of hunger for
+another day.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+One night the mother Cat smelt a wonderful smell that came from the
+East River at the end of the alley. A new smell always needs
+investigating, and when it is attractive as well as new, there is but
+one course open. It led Pussy to the docks a block away, and then out
+on a wharf, away from any cover but the night. A sudden noise, a growl
+and a rush, were the first notice she had that she was cut off by her
+old enemy, the Wharf Dog. There was only one escape. She leaped from
+the wharf to the vessel from which the smell came. The Dog could not
+follow, so when the fish-boat sailed in the morning Pussy unwillingly
+went with her and was seen no more.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+II
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+The Slum Kitten waited in vain for her mother. The morning came and
+went. She became very hungry. Toward evening a deep-laid instinct drove
+her forth to seek food. She slunk out of the old box, and feeling her
+way silently among the rubbish, she smelt everything that seemed
+eatable, but without finding food. At length she reached the wooden
+steps leading down into Jap Malee's bird-store underground. The door
+was open a little. She wandered into a world of rank and curious smells
+and a number of living things in cages all about her. A negro was
+sitting idly on a box in a corner. He saw the little stranger enter and
+watched it curiously. It wandered past some Rabbits. They paid no heed.
+It came to a wide-barred cage in which was a Fox. The gentleman with
+the bushy tail was in a far corner. He crouched low; his eyes glowed.
+The Kitten wandered, sniffing, up to the bars, put its head in, sniffed
+again, then made toward the feed-pan, to be seized in a flash by the
+crouching Fox. It gave a frightened "mew," but a single shake cut that
+short and would have ended Kitty's nine lives at once, had not the
+negro come to the rescue. He had no weapon and could not get into the
+cage, but he spat with such copious vigor in the Fox's face that he
+dropped the Kitten and returned to the corner, there to sit blinking
+his eyes in sullen fear.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The negro pulled the Kitten out. The shake of the beast of prey seemed
+to have stunned the victim, really to have saved it much suffering. The
+Kitten seemed unharmed, but giddy. It tottered in a circle for a time,
+then slowly revived, and a few minutes later was purring in the negro's
+lap, apparently none the worse, when Jap Malee, the bird-man, came home.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Jap was not an Oriental; he was a full-blooded Cockney, but his eyes
+were such little accidental slits aslant in his round, flat face, that
+his first name was forgotten in the highly descriptive title of "Jap."
+He was not especially unkind to the birds and beasts whose sales were
+supposed to furnish his living, but his eye was on the main chance; he
+knew what he wanted. He didn't want the Slum Kitten.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The negro gave it all the food it could eat, then carried it to a
+distant block and dropped it in a neighboring iron-yard.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+III
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+One full meal is as much as any one needs in two or three days, and
+under the influence of this stored-up heat and power, Kitty was very
+lively. She walked around the piled-up rubbish, cast curious glances on
+far-away Canary-birds in cages that hung from high windows; she peeped
+over fences, discovered a large Dog, got quietly down again, and
+presently finding a sheltered place in full sunlight, she lay down and
+slept for an hour. A slight 'sniff' awakened her, and before her stood
+a large Black Cat with glowing green eyes, and the thick neck and
+square jaws that distinguish the Tom; a scar marked his cheek, and his
+left ear was torn. His look was far from friendly; his ears moved
+backward a little, his tail twitched, and a faint, deep sound came from
+his throat. The Kitten innocently walked toward him. She did not
+remember him. He rubbed the sides of his jaws on a post, and quietly,
+slowly turned and disappeared. The last that she saw of him was the end
+of his tail twitching from side to side; and the little Slummer had no
+idea that she had been as near death to-day, as she had been when she
+ventured into the fox-cage.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+As night came on the Kitten began to feel hungry. She examined
+carefully the long invisible colored stream that the wind is made of.
+She selected the most interesting of its strands, and, nose-led,
+followed. In the corner of the iron-yard was a box of garbage. Among
+this she found something that answered fairly well for food; a bucket
+of water under a faucet offered a chance to quench her thirst.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The night was spent chiefly in prowling about and learning the main
+lines of the iron-yard. The next day she passed as before, sleeping in
+the sun. Thus the time wore on. Sometimes she found a good meal at the
+garbage-box, sometimes there was nothing. Once she found the big Black
+Tom there, but discreetly withdrew before he saw her. The water-bucket
+was usually at its place, or, failing that, there were some muddy
+little pools on the stone below. But the garbage-box was very
+unreliable. Once it left her for three days without food. She searched
+along the high fence, and seeing a small hole, crawled through that and
+found herself in the open street. This was a new world, but before she
+had ventured far, there was a noisy, rumbling rush&mdash;a large Dog came
+bounding, and Kitty had barely time to run back into the hole in the
+fence. She was dreadfully hungry, and glad to find some old
+potato-peelings, which gave a little respite from the hunger-pang. In
+the morning she did not sleep, but prowled for food. Some Sparrows
+chirruped in the yard. They were often there, but now they were viewed
+with new eyes. The steady pressure of hunger had roused the wild hunter
+in the Kitten; those Sparrows were game&mdash;were food. She crouched
+instinctively and stalked from cover to cover, but the chirpers were
+alert and flew in time. Not once, but many times, she tried without
+result except to confirm the Sparrows in the list of things to be eaten
+if obtainable.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+On the fifth day of ill luck the Slum Kitty ventured forth into the
+street, desperately bent on finding food. When far from the haven hole
+some small boys opened fire at her with pieces of brick. She ran in
+fear. A Dog joined in the chase, and Kitty's position grew perilous;
+but an old-fashioned iron fence round a house-front was there, and she
+slipped in between the rails as the Dog overtook her. A woman in a
+window above shouted at the Dog. Then the boys dropped a piece of
+cat-meat down to the unfortunate; and Kitty had the most delicious meal
+of her life. The stoop afforded a refuge. Under this she sat patiently
+till nightfall came with quiet, then sneaked back like a shadow to her
+old iron-yard.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Thus the days went by for two months. She grew in size and strength and
+in an intimate knowledge of the immediate neighborhood. She made the
+acquaintance of Downey Street, where long rows of ash-cans were to be
+seen every morning. She formed her own ideas of their proprietors. The
+big house was to her, not a Roman Catholic mission, but a place whose
+garbage-tins abounded in choicest fish scrapings. She soon made the
+acquaintance of the meat-man, and joined in the shy fringe of Cats that
+formed the outer circle. She also met the Wharf Dog as well as two or
+three other horrors of the same class. She knew what to expect of them
+and how to avoid them; and she was happy in being the inventor of a new
+industry. Many thousand Cats have doubtless hung, in hope, about the
+tempting milk-cans that the early milk-man leaves on steps and
+window-ledges, and it was by the merest accident that Kitty found one
+with a broken lid, and so was taught to raise it and have a satisfying
+drink. Bottles, of course, were beyond her, but many a can has a misfit
+lid, and Kitty was very painstaking in her efforts to discover the
+loose-jointed ones. Finally she extended her range by exploration till
+she achieved the heart of the next block, and farther, till once more
+among the barrels and boxes of the yard behind the bird-man's cellar.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The old iron-yard never had been home, she had always felt like a
+stranger there; but here she had a sense of ownership, and at once
+resented the presence of another small Cat. She approached this
+newcomer with threatening air. The two had got as far as snarling and
+spitting when a bucket of water from an upper window drenched them both
+and effectually cooled their wrath. They fled, the newcomer over the
+wall, Slum Kitty under the very box where she had been born. This whole
+back region appealed to her strongly, and here again she took up her
+abode. The yard had no more garbage food than the other and no water at
+all, but it was frequented by stray Rats and a few Mice of the finest
+quality; these were occasionally secured, and afforded not only a
+palatable meal, but were the cause of her winning a friend.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+IV
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+Kitty was now fully grown. She was a striking-looking Cat of the tiger
+type. Her marks were black on a very pale gray, and the four
+beauty-spots of white on nose, ears, and tail-tip lent a certain
+distinction. She was very expert at getting a living, and yet she had
+some days of starvation and failed in her ambition of catching a
+Sparrow. She was quite alone, but a new force was coming into her life.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She was lying in the sun one August day, when a large Black Cat came
+walking along the top of a wall in her direction. She recognized him at
+once by his torn ear. She slunk into her box and hid. He picked his way
+gingerly, bounded lightly to a shed that was at the end of the yard,
+and was crossing the roof when a Yellow Cat rose up. The Black Torn
+glared and growled, so did the Yellow Tom. Their tails lashed from side
+to side. Strong throats growled and yowled. They approached each other
+with ears laid back, with muscles a-tense.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yow-yow-ow!" said the Black One.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Wow-w-w!" was the slightly deeper answer.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ya-wow-wow-wow!" said the Black One, edging up half an inch nearer.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yow-w-w!" was the Yellow answer, as the blond Cat rose to full height
+and stepped with vast dignity a whole inch forward. "Yow-w!" and he
+went another inch, while his tail went swish, thump, from one side to
+the other.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ya-wow-yow-w!" screamed the Black in a rising tone, and he backed the
+eighth of an inch, as he marked the broad, unshrinking breast before
+him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Windows opened all around, human voices were heard, but the Cat scene
+went on.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yow-yow-ow!" rumbled the Yellow Peril, his voice deepening as the
+other's rose.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yow!" and he advanced another step.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Now their noses were but three inches apart; they stood sidewise, both
+ready to clinch, but each waiting for the other. They glared for three
+minutes in silence and like statues, except that each tail-tip was
+twisting.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Yellow began again. "Yow-ow-ow!" in deep tone.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ya-a-a&mdash;a-a!" screamed the Black, with intent to strike terror by his
+yell; but he retreated one sixteenth of an inch. The Yellow walked up a
+long half-inch; their whiskers were mixing now; another advance, and
+their noses almost touched.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yo-w-w!" said Yellow, like a deep moan.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Y-a-a-a-a-a-a!" screamed the Black, but he retreated a thirty-second
+of an inch, and the Yellow Warrior closed and clinched like a demon.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Oh, how they rolled and bit and tore, especially the Yellow One!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+How they pitched and gripped and hugged, but especially the Yellow One!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Over and over, sometimes one on top, sometimes another, but mostly the
+Yellow One; and farther till they rolled off the roof, amid cheers from
+all the windows. They lost not a second in that fall to the junk-yard;
+they tore and clawed all the way down, but especially the Yellow One.
+And when they struck the ground, still fighting, the one on top was
+chiefly the Yellow One; and before they separated both had had as much
+as they wanted, especially the Black One! He scaled a wall and,
+bleeding and growling, disappeared, while the news was passed from
+window to window that Cayley's Nig had been licked at last by Orange
+Billy.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Either the Yellow Cat was a very clever seeker, or else Slum Kitty did
+not hide very hard; but he discovered her among the boxes, and she made
+no attempt to get away, probably because she had witnessed the fight.
+There is nothing like success in warfare to win the female heart, and
+thereafter the Yellow Tom and Kitty became very good friends, not
+sharing each other's lives or food,&mdash;Cats do not do that way much,&mdash;but
+recognizing each other as entitled to special friendly privileges.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+V
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+September had gone. October's shortening days were on when an event
+took place in the old cracker-box. If Orange Billy had come he would
+have seen five little Kittens curled up in the embrace of their mother,
+the little Slum Cat. It was a wonderful thing for her. She felt all the
+elation an animal mother can feel, all the delight, and she loved them
+and licked them with a tenderness that must have been a surprise to
+herself, had she had the power to think of such things.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She had added a joy to her joyless life, but she had also added a care
+and a heavy weight to her heavy load. All her strength was taken now to
+find food. The burden increased as the offspring grew up big enough to
+scramble about the boxes, which they did daily during her absence after
+they were six weeks old. That troubles go in flocks and luck in
+streaks, is well known in Slumland. Kitty had had three encounters with
+Dogs, and had been stoned by Malee's negro during a two days' starve.
+Then the tide turned. The very next morning she found a full milk-can
+without a lid, successfully robbed a barrow pensioner, and found a big
+fish-head, all within two hours. She had just returned with that
+perfect peace which comes only of a full stomach, when she saw a little
+brown creature in her junk-yard. Hunting memories came back in
+strength; she didn't know what it was, but she had killed and eaten
+several Mice, and this was evidently a big Mouse with bob-tail and
+large ears. Kitty stalked it with elaborate but unnecessary caution;
+the little Rabbit simply sat up and looked faintly amused. He did not
+try to run, and Kitty sprang on him and bore him off. As she was not
+hungry, she carried him to the cracker-box and dropped him among the
+Kittens. He was not much hurt. He got over his fright, and since he
+could not get out of the box, he snuggled among the Kittens, and when
+they began to take their evening meal he very soon decided to join
+them. The old Cat was puzzled. The hunter instinct had been dominant,
+but absence of hunger had saved the Rabbit and given the maternal
+instinct a chance to appear. The result was that the Rabbit became a
+member of the family, and was thenceforth guarded and fed with the
+Kittens.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Two weeks went by. The Kittens romped much among the boxes during their
+mother's absence. The Rabbit could not get out of the box. Jap Malee,
+seeing the Kittens about the back yard, told the negro to shoot them.
+This he was doing one morning with a 22-calibre rifle. He had shot one
+after another and seen them drop from sight into the crannies of the
+lumber-pile, when the old Cat came running along the wall from the
+dock, carrying a small Wharf Rat. He had been ready to shoot her, too,
+but the sight of that Rat changed his plans: a rat-catching Cat was
+worthy to live. It happened to be the very first one she had ever
+caught, but it saved her life. She threaded the lumber-maze to the
+cracker-box and was probably puzzled to find that there were no Kittens
+to come at her call, and the Rabbit would not partake of the Rat. Pussy
+curled up to nurse the Rabbit, but she called from time to time to
+summon the Kittens. Guided by that call, the negro crawled quietly to
+the place, and peering down into the cracker-box, saw, to his intense
+surprise, that it contained the old Cat, a live Rabbit, and a dead Rat.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The mother Cat laid back her ears and snarled. The negro withdrew, but
+a minute later a board was dropped on the opening of the cracker-box,
+and the den with its tenants, dead and alive, was lifted into the
+bird-cellar.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Say, boss, look a-hyar&mdash;hyar's where de little Rabbit got to wot we
+lost. Yo' sho t'ought Ah stoled him for de 'tater-bake."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Kitty and Bunny were carefully put in a large wire cage and exhibited
+as a happy family till a few days later, when the Rabbit took sick and
+died.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Pussy had never been happy in the cage. She had enough to eat and
+drink, but she craved her freedom&mdash;would likely have gotten 'death or
+liberty' now, but that during the four days' captivity she had so
+cleaned and slicked her fur that her unusual coloring was seen, and Jap
+decided to keep her.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+LIFE II
+</H3>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+VI
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+Jap Malee was as disreputable a little Cockney bantam as ever sold
+cheap Canary-birds in a cellar. He was extremely poor, and the negro
+lived with him because the 'Henglish-man' was willing to share bed and
+board, and otherwise admit a perfect equality that few Americans
+conceded. Jap was perfectly honest according to his lights, but he
+hadn't  any lights; and it was well known that his chief revenue was
+derived from storing and restoring stolen Dogs and Cats. The half-dozen
+Canaries were mere blinds. Yet Jap believed in himself. "Hi tell you,
+Sammy, me boy, you'll see me with 'orses of my own yet," he would say,
+when some trifling success inflated his dirty little chest. He was not
+without ambition, in a weak, flabby, once-in-a-while way, and he
+sometimes wished to be known as a fancier. Indeed, he had once gone the
+wild length of offering a Cat for exhibition at the Knickerbocker High
+Society Cat and Pet Show, with three not over-clear objects: first, to
+gratify his ambition; second, to secure the exhibitor's free pass; and,
+third, "well, you kneow, one 'as to kneow the valuable Cats, you kneow,
+when one goes a-catting." But this was a society show, the exhibitor
+had to be introduced, and his miserable alleged half-Persian was
+scornfully rejected. The 'Lost and Found' columns of the papers were
+the only ones of interest to Jap, but he had noticed and saved a
+clipping about 'breeding for fur.' This was stuck on the wall of his
+den, and under its influence he set about what seemed a cruel
+experiment with the Slum Cat. First, he soaked her dirty fur with stuff
+to kill the two or three kinds of creepers she wore; and, when it had
+done its work, he washed her thoroughly in soap and warm water, in
+spite of her teeth, claws, and yowls. Kitty was savagely indignant, but
+a warm and happy glow spread over her as she dried off in a cage near
+the stove, and her fur began to fluff out with wonderful softness and
+whiteness. Jap and his assistant were much pleased with the result, and
+Kitty ought to have been. But this was preparatory: now for the
+experiment. "Nothing is so good for growing fur as plenty of oily food
+and continued exposure to cold weather," said the clipping. Winter was
+at hand, and Jap Malee put Kitty's cage out in the yard, protected only
+from the rain and the direct wind, and fed her with all the oil-cake
+and fish-heads she could eat. In a week a change began to show. She was
+rapidly getting fat and sleek&mdash;she had nothing to do but get fat and
+dress her fur. Her cage was kept clean, and nature responded to the
+chill weather and the oily food by making Kitty's coat thicker and
+glossier every day, so that by midwinter she was an unusually beautiful
+Cat in the fullest and finest of fur, with markings that were at least
+a rarity. Jap was much pleased with the result of the experiment, and
+as a very little success had a wonderful effect on him, he began to
+dream of the paths of glory. Why not send the Slum Cat to the show now
+coming on? The failure of the year before made him more careful as to
+details. "'T won't do, ye kneow, Sammy, to henter 'er as a tramp Cat,
+ye kneow," he observed to his help; "but it kin be arranged to suit the
+Knickerbockers. Nothink like a good noime, ye kneow. Ye see now it had
+orter be 'Royal' somethink or other&mdash;nothink goes with the
+Knickerbockers like 'Royal' anythink. Now 'Royal Dick,' or 'Royal Sam,'
+'ow's that? But 'owld on; them's Tom names. Oi say, Sammy, wot's the
+noime of that island where ye wuz born?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Analostan Island, sah, was my native vicinity, sah."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oi say, now, that's good, ye kneow. 'Royal Analostan,' by Jove! The
+onliest pedigreed 'Royal Analostan' in the 'ole sheow, ye kneow. Ain't
+that foine?" and they mingled their cackles.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But we'll 'ave to 'ave a pedigree, ye kneow." So a very long fake
+pedigree on the recognized lines was prepared. One dark afternoon Sam,
+in a borrowed silk hat, delivered the Cat and the pedigree at the show
+door. The darkey did the honors. He had been a Sixth Avenue barber, and
+he could put on more pomp and lofty hauteur in five minutes than Jap
+Malee could have displayed in a lifetime, and this, doubtless, was one
+reason for the respectful reception awarded the Royal Analostan at the
+Cat Show.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Jap was very proud to be an exhibitor; but he had all a Cockney's
+reverence for the upper class, and when on the opening day he went to
+the door, he was overpowered to see the array of carriages and silk
+hats. The gate-man looked at him sharply, but passed him on his ticket,
+doubtless taking him for stable-boy to some exhibitor. The hall had
+velvet carpets before the long rows of cages. Jap, in his small
+cunning, was sneaking down the side rows, glancing at the Cats of all
+kinds, noting the blue ribbons and the reds, peering about but not
+daring to ask for his own exhibit, inly trembling to think what the
+gorgeous gathering of fashion would say if they discovered the trick he
+was playing on them. He had passed all around the outer aisles and seen
+many prize-winners, but no sign of Slum Kitty. The inner aisles were
+more crowded. He picked his way down them, but still no Kitty, and he
+decided that it was a mistake; the judges had rejected the Cat later.
+Never mind; he had his exhibitor's ticket, and now knew where several
+valuable Persians and Angoras were to be found.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In the middle of the centre aisle were the high-class Cats. A great
+throng was there. The passage was roped, and two policemen were in
+place to keep the crowd moving. Jap wriggled in among them; he was too
+short to see over, and though the richly gowned folks shrunk from his
+shabby old clothes, he could not get near; but he gathered from the
+remarks that the gem of the show was there.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, isn't  she a beauty!" said one tall woman.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What distinction!" was the reply.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"One cannot mistake the air that comes only from ages of the most
+refined surroundings."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"How I should like to own that superb creature!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Such dignity&mdash;such repose!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"She has an authentic pedigree nearly back to the Pharaohs, I hear";
+and poor, dirty little Jap marvelled at his own cheek in sending his
+Slum Cat into such company.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Excuse me, madame." The director of the show now appeared, edging his
+way through the crowd. "The artist of the 'sporting Element' is here,
+under orders to sketch the 'pearl of the show' for immediate use. May I
+ask you to stand a little aside? That's it; thank you.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, Mr. Director, cannot you persuade him to sell that beautiful
+creature?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Hm, I don't know," was the reply. "I understand he is a man of ample
+means and not at all approachable; but I'll try, I'll try, madame. He
+was quite unwilling to exhibit his treasure at all, so I understand
+from his butler. Here, you, keep out of the way," growled the director,
+as the shabby little man eagerly pushed between the artist and the
+blue-blooded Cat. But the disreputable one wanted to know where
+valuable Cats were to be found. He came near enough to get a glimpse of
+the cage, and there read a placard which announced that "The blue
+ribbon and gold medal of the Knickerbocker High Society Cat and Pet
+Show" had been awarded to the "thoroughbred, pedigreed Royal Analostan,
+imported and exhibited by J. Malee, Esq., the well-known fancier. (Not
+for sale.)" Jap caught his breath and stared again. Yes, surely; there,
+high in a gilded cage, on velvet cushions, with four policemen for
+guards, her fur bright black and pale gray, her bluish eyes slightly
+closed, was his Slum Kitty, looking the picture of a Cat bored to death
+with a lot of fuss that she likes as little as she understands it.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+VII
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+Jap Malee lingered around that cage, taking in the remarks, for
+hours&mdash;drinking a draught of glory such as he had never known in life
+before and rarely glimpsed in his dreams. But he saw that it would be
+wise for him to remain unknown; his "butler" must do all the business.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was Slum Kitty who made that show a success. Each day her value went
+up in her owner's eyes. He did not know what prices had been given for
+Cats, and thought that he was touching a record pitch when his "butler"
+gave the director authority to sell the Analostan for one hundred
+dollars.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+This is how it came about that the Slum Cat found herself transferred
+from the show to a Fifth Avenue mansion. She evinced a most
+unaccountable wildness at first. Her objection to petting, however, was
+explained on the ground of her aristocratic dislike of familiarity. Her
+retreat from the Lap-dog onto the centre of the dinner-table was
+understood to express a deep-rooted though mistaken idea of avoiding a
+defiling touch. Her assaults on a pet Canary were condoned for the
+reason that in her native Orient she had been used to despotic example.
+The patrician way in which she would get the cover off a milk-can was
+especially applauded. Her dislike of her silk-lined basket, and her
+frequent dashes against the plate-glass windows, were easily
+understood: the basket was too plain, and plate-glass was not used in
+her royal home. Her spotting of the carpet evidenced her Eastern modes
+of thought. The failure of her several attempts to catch Sparrows in
+the high-walled back yard was new proof of the royal impotency of her
+bringing up; while her frequent wallowings in the garbage-can were
+understood to be the manifestation of a little pardonable high-born
+eccentricity. She was fed and pampered, shown and praised; but she was
+not happy. Kitty was homesick! She clawed at that blue ribbon round her
+neck till she got it off; she jumped against the plate-glass because
+that seemed the road to outside; she avoided people and Dogs because
+they had always proved hostile and cruel; and she would sit and gaze on
+the roofs and back yards at the other side of the window, wishing she
+could be among them for a change.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But she was strictly watched, was never allowed outside&mdash;so that all
+the happy garbage-can moments occurred while these receptacles of joy
+were indoors. One night in March, however, as they were set out a-row
+for the early scavenger, the Royal Analostan saw her chance, slipped
+out of the door, and was lost to view.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Of course there was a grand stir; but Pussy neither knew nor cared
+anything about that&mdash;her one thought was to go home. It may have been
+chance that took her back in the direction of Gramercy Grange Hill, but
+she did arrive there after sundry small adventures. And now what? She
+was not at home, and she had cut off her living. She was beginning to
+be hungry, and yet she had a peculiar sense of happiness. She cowered
+in a front garden for some time. A raw east wind had been rising, and
+now it came to her with a particularly friendly message; man would have
+called it an unpleasant smell of the docks, but to Pussy it was welcome
+tidings from home. She trotted down the long Street due east, threading
+the rails of front gardens, stopping like a statue for an instant, or
+crossing the street in search of the darkest side, and came at length
+to the docks and to the water. But the place was strange. She could go
+north or south. Something turned her southward; and, dodging among
+docks and Dogs, carts and Cats, crooked arms of the bay and straight
+board fences, she got, in an hour or two, among familiar scenes and
+smells; and, before the sun came up, she had crawled back&mdash;weary and
+foot-sore through the same old hole in the same old fence and over a
+wall to her junk-yard back of the bird-cellar&mdash;yes, back into the very
+cracker-box where she was born.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Oh, if the Fifth Avenue family could only have seen her in her native
+Orient!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+After a long rest she came quietly down from the cracker-box toward the
+steps leading to the cellar, engaged in her old-time pursuit of seeking
+for eatables. The door opened, and there stood the negro. He shouted to
+the bird-man inside:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Say, boss, come hyar. Ef dere ain't dat dar Royal Ankalostan am comed
+back!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Jap came in time to see the Cat jumping the wall. They called loudly
+and in the most seductive, wheedling tones: "Pussy, Pussy, poor Pussy!
+Come, Pussy!" But Pussy was not prepossessed in their favor, and
+disappeared to forage in her old-time haunts.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Royal Analostan had been a windfall for Jap&mdash;had been the means of
+adding many comforts to the cellar and several prisoners to the cages.
+It was now of the utmost importance to recapture her majesty. Stale
+meat-offal and other infallible lures were put out till Pussy, urged by
+the reestablished hunger-pinch, crept up to a large fish-head in a
+box-trap; the negro, in watching, pulled the string that dropped the
+lid, and, a minute later, the Analostan was once more among the
+prisoners in the cellar. Meanwhile Jap had been watching the 'Lost and
+Found' column. There it was, "$25 reward," etc. That night Mr. Malee's
+butler called at the Fifth Avenue mansion with the missing cat. "Mr.
+Malee's compliments, sah. De Royal Analostan had recurred in her recent
+proprietor's vicinity and residence, sah. Mr. Malee had pleasure in
+recuperating the Royal Analostan, sah." Of course Mr. Malee could not
+be rewarded, but the butler was open to any offer, and plainly showed
+that he expected the promised reward and something more.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Kitty was guarded very carefully after that; but so far from being
+disgusted with the old life of starving, and glad of her ease, she
+became wilder and more dissatisfied.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+VIII
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+The spring was doing its New York best. The dirty little English
+Sparrows were tumbling over each other in their gutter brawls, Cats
+yowled all night in the areas, and the Fifth Avenue family were
+thinking of their country residence. They packed up, closed house and
+moved off to their summer home, some fifty miles away, and Pussy, in a
+basket, went with them.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Just what she needed: a change of air and scene to wean her away from
+her former owners and make her happy."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The basket was lifted into a Rumble-shaker. New sounds and passing
+smells were entered and left. A turn in the course was made. Then a
+roaring of many feet, more swinging of the basket; a short pause,
+another change of direction, then some clicks, some bangs, a long
+shrill whistle, and door-bells of a very big front door; a rumbling, a
+whizzing, an unpleasant smell, a hideous smell, a growing horrible,
+hateful choking smell, a deadly, griping, poisonous stench, with
+roaring that drowned poor Kitty's yowls, and just as it neared the
+point where endurance ceased, there was relief. She heard clicks and
+clacks. There was light; there was air. Then a man's voice called, "All
+out for 125th Street," though of course to Kitty it was a mere human
+bellow. The roaring almost ceased&mdash;did cease. Later the rackety-bang
+was renewed with plenty of sounds and shakes, though not the poisonous
+gas; a long, hollow, booming roar with a pleasant dock smell was
+quickly passed, and then there was a succession of jolts, roars, jars,
+stops, clicks, clacks, smells, jumps, shakes, more smells, more
+shakes,&mdash;big shakes, little shakes,&mdash;gases, smokes, screeches,
+door-bells, tremblings, roars, thunders, and some new smells, raps,
+taps, heavings, rumblings, and more smells, but all without any of the
+feel that the direction is changed. When at last it stopped, the sun
+came twinkling through the basket-lid. The Royal Cat was lifted into a
+Rumble-shaker of the old familiar style, and, swerving aside from their
+past course, very soon the noises of its wheels were grittings and
+rattlings; a new and horrible sound was added&mdash;the barking of Dogs, big
+and little and dreadfully close. The basket was lifted, and Slum Kitty
+had reached her country home.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Every one was officiously kind. They wanted to please the Royal Cat,
+but somehow none of them did, except, possibly, the big, fat cook that
+Kitty discovered on wandering into the kitchen. This unctuous person
+smelt more like a slum than anything she had met for months, and the
+Royal Analostan was proportionately attracted. The cook, when she
+learned that fears were entertained about the Cat staying, said:
+"Shure, she'd 'tind to thot; wanst a Cat licks her futs, shure she's at
+home." So she deftly caught the unapproachable royalty in her apron,
+and committed the horrible sacrilege of greasing the soles of her feet
+with pot-grease. Of course Kitty resented it&mdash;she resented everything
+in the place; but on being set down she began to dress her paws and
+found evident satisfaction in that grease. She licked all four feet for
+an hour, and the cook triumphantly announced that now "shure she'd be
+apt to shtay." And stay she did, but she showed a most surprising and
+disgusting preference for the kitchen, the cook, and the garbage-pail.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The family, though distressed by these distinguished peculiarities,
+were glad to see the Royal Analostan more contented and approachable.
+They gave her more liberty after a week or two. They guarded her from
+every menace. The Dogs were taught to respect her. No man or boy about
+the place would have dreamed of throwing a stone at the famous
+pedigreed Cat. She had all the food she wanted, but still she was not
+happy. She was hankering for many things, she scarcely knew what. She
+had everything&mdash;yes, but she wanted something else. Plenty to eat and
+drink&mdash;yes, but milk does not taste the same when you can go and drink
+all you want from a saucer; it has to be stolen out of a tin pail when
+you are belly-pinched with hunger and thirst, or it does not have the
+tang&mdash;it isn't milk.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Yes, there was a junk-yard back of the house and beside it and around
+it too, a big one, but it was everywhere poisoned and polluted with
+roses. The very Horses and Dogs had the wrong smells; the whole country
+round was a repellent desert of lifeless, disgusting gardens and
+hay-fields, without a single tenement or smoke-stack in sight. How she
+did hate it all! There was only one sweet-smelling shrub in the whole
+horrible place, and that was in a neglected corner. She did enjoy
+nipping that and rolling in the leaves; it was a bright spot in the
+grounds; but the only one, for she had not found a rotten fish-head nor
+seen a genuine garbage-can since she came, and altogether it was the
+most unlovely, unattractive, unsmellable spot she had ever known. She
+would surely have gone that first night had she had the liberty. The
+liberty was weeks in coming, and, meanwhile, her affinity with the cook
+had developed as a bond to keep her; but one day after a summer of
+discontent a succession of things happened to stir anew the slum
+instinct of the royal prisoner.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+A great bundle of stuff from the docks had reached the country mansion.
+What it contained was of little moment, but it was rich with a score of
+the most piquant and winsome of dock and slum smells. The chords of
+memory surely dwell in the nose, and Pussy's past was conjured up with
+dangerous force. Next day the cook 'left' through some trouble over
+this very bundle. It was the cutting of cables, and that evening the
+youngest boy of the house, a horrid little American with no proper
+appreciation of royalty, was tying a tin to the blue-blooded one's
+tail, doubtless in furtherance of some altruistic project, when Pussy
+resented the liberty with a paw that wore five big fish-hooks for the
+occasion. The howl of downtrodden America roused America's mother. The
+deft and womanly blow that she aimed with her book was miraculously
+avoided, and Pussy took flight, up-stairs, of course. A hunted Rat runs
+down-stairs, a hunted Dog goes on the level, a hunted Cat runs up. She
+hid in the garret, baffled discovery, and waited till night came. Then,
+gliding down-stairs, she tried each screen-door in turn, till she found
+one unlatched, and escaped into the black August night. Pitch-black to
+man's eyes, it was simply gray to her, and she glided through the
+disgusting shrubbery and flower-beds, took a final nip at that one
+little bush that had been an attractive spot in the garden, and boldly
+took her back track of the spring.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+How could she take a back track that she never saw? There is in all
+animals some sense of direction. It is very low in man and very high in
+Horses, but Cats have a large gift, and this mysterious guide took her
+westward, not clearly and definitely, but with a general impulse that
+was made definite simply because the road was easy to travel. In an
+hour she had covered two miles and reached the Hudson River. Her nose
+had told her many times that the course was true. Smell after smell
+came back, just as a man after walking a mile in a strange street may
+not recall a single feature, but will remember, on seeing it again,
+"Why, yes, I saw that before." So Kitty's main guide was the sense of
+direction, but it was her nose that kept reassuring her, "Yes, now you
+are right&mdash;we passed this place last spring."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+At the river was the railroad. She could not go on the water; she must
+go north or south. This was a case where her sense of direction was
+clear; it said, "Go south," and Kitty trotted down the foot-path
+between the iron rails and the fence.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+LIFE III
+</H3>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+IX
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+Cats can go very fast up a tree or over a wall, but when it comes to
+the long steady trot that reels off mile after mile, hour after hour,
+it is not the cat-hop, but the dog-trot, that counts. Although the
+travelling was good and the path direct, an hour had gone before two
+more miles were put between her and the Hades of roses. She was tired
+and a little foot-sore. She was thinking of rest when a Dog came
+running to the fence near by, and broke out into such a horrible
+barking close to her ear that Pussy leaped in terror. She ran as hard
+as she could down the path, at the same time watching to see if the Dog
+should succeed in passing the fence. No, not yet! but he ran close by
+it, growling horribly, while Pussy skipped along on the safe side. The
+barking of the Dog grew into a low rumble&mdash;a louder rumble and
+roaring&mdash;a terrifying thunder. A light shone. Kitty glanced back to
+see, not the Dog, but a huge Black Thing with a blazing red eye coming
+on, yowling and spitting like a yard full of Cats. She put forth all
+her powers to run, made such time as she had never made before, but
+dared not leap the fence. She was running like a Dog, was flying, but
+all in vain; the monstrous pursuer overtook her, but missed her in the
+darkness, and hurried past to be lost in the night, while Kitty
+crouched gasping for breath, half a mile nearer home since that Dog
+began to bark.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+This was her first encounter with the strange monster, strange to her
+eyes only; her nose seemed to know him and told her this was another
+landmark on the home trail. But Pussy lost much of her fear of his
+kind. She learned that they were very stupid and could not find her if
+she slipped quietly under a fence and lay still. Before morning she had
+encountered several of them, but escaped unharmed from all.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+About sunrise she reached a nice little slum on her home trail, and was
+lucky enough to find several unsterilized eatables in an ash-heap. She
+spent the day around a stable where were two Dogs and a number of small
+boys, that between them came near ending her career. It was so very
+like home; but she had no idea of staying there. She was driven by the
+old craving, and next evening set out as before. She had seen the
+one-eyed Thunder-rollers all day going by, and was getting used to
+them, so travelled steadily all that night. The next day was spent in a
+barn where she caught a Mouse, and the next night was like the last,
+except that a Dog she encountered drove her backward on her trail for a
+long way. Several times she was misled by angling roads, and wandered
+far astray, but in time she wandered back again to her general
+southward course. The days were passed in skulking under barns and
+hiding from Dogs and small boys, and the nights in limping along the
+track, for she was getting foot-sore; but on she went, mile after mile,
+southward, ever southward&mdash;Dogs, boys, Roarers, hunger&mdash;Dogs, boys,
+Roarers, hunger&mdash;yet on and onward still she went, and her nose from
+time to time cheered her by confidently reporting, "There surely is a
+smell we passed last spring."
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+X
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+So a week went by, and Pussy, dirty, ribbon-less, foot-sore, and weary,
+arrived at the Harlem Bridge. Though it was enveloped in delicious
+smells, she did not like the look of that bridge. For half the night
+she wandered up and down the shore without discovering any other means
+of going south, excepting some other bridges, or anything of interest
+except that here the men were as dangerous as the boys. Somehow she had
+to come back to it; not only its smells were familiar, but from time to
+time, when a One-eye ran over it, there was that peculiar rumbling roar
+that was a sensation in the springtime trip. The calm of the late night
+was abroad when she leaped to the timber stringer and glided out over
+the water. She had got less than a third of the way across when a
+thundering One-eye came roaring at her from the opposite end. She was
+much frightened, but knowing their stupidity and blindness, she dropped
+to a low side beam and there crouched in hiding. Of course the stupid
+Monster missed her and passed on, and all would have been well, but it
+turned back, or another just like it came suddenly spitting behind her.
+Pussy leaped to the long track and made for the home shore. She might
+have got there had not a third of the Red-eyed Terrors come screeching
+at her from that side. She was running her hardest, but was caught
+between two foes. There was nothing for it but a desperate leap from
+the timbers into-she didn't know what. Down, down, down-plop, splash,
+plunge into the deep water, not cold, for it was August, but oh, so
+horrible! She spluttered and coughed when she came to the top, glanced
+around to see if the Monsters were swimming after her, and struck out
+for shore. She had never learned to swim, and yet she swam, for the
+simple reason that a Cat's position and actions in swimming are the
+same as her position and actions in walking. She had fallen into a
+place she did not like; naturally she tried to walk out, and the result
+was that she swam ashore. Which shore? The home-love never fails: the
+south side was the only shore for her, the one nearest home. She
+scrambled out all dripping wet, up the muddy bank and through
+coal-piles and dust-heaps, looking as black, dirty, and unroyal as it
+was possible for a Cat to look.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Once the shock was over, the Royal-pedigreed Slummer began to feel
+better for the plunge. A genial glow without from the bath, a genial
+sense of triumph within, for had she not outwitted three of the big
+Terrors?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Her nose, her memory, and her instinct of direction inclined her to get
+on the track again; but the place was infested with those
+Thunder-rollers, and prudence led her to turn aside and follow the
+river-bank with its musky home-reminders; and thus she was spared the
+unspeakable horrors of the tunnel.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She was over three days learning the manifold dangers and complexities
+of the East River docks. Once she got by mistake on a ferryboat and was
+carried over to Long Island; but she took an early boat back. At length
+on the third night she reached familiar ground, the place she had
+passed the night of her first escape. From that her course was sure and
+rapid. She knew just where she was going and how to get there. She knew
+even the more prominent features in the Dog-scape now. She went faster,
+felt happier. In a little while surely she would be curled up in her
+native Orient&mdash;the old junk-yard. Another turn, and the block was in
+sight.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But&mdash;what! It was gone! Kitty couldn't believe her eyes; but she must,
+for the sun was not yet up. There where once had stood or leaned or
+slouched or straggled the houses of the block, was a great broken
+wilderness of stone, lumber, and holes in the ground.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Kitty walked all around it. She knew by the bearings and by the local
+color of the pavement that she was in her home, that there had lived
+the bird-man, and there was the old junk-yard; but all were gone,
+completely gone, taking their familiar odors with them, and Pussy
+turned sick at heart in the utter hopelessness of the case. Her
+place-love was her master-mood. She had given up all to come to a home
+that no longer existed, and for once her sturdy little heart was cast
+down. She wandered over the silent heaps of rubbish and found neither
+consolation nor eatables. The ruin had taken in several of the blocks
+and reached back from the water. It was not a fire; Kitty had seen one
+of those things. This looked more like the work of a flock of the
+Red-eyed Monsters. Pussy knew nothing of the great bridge that was to
+rise from this very spot.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+When the sun came up she sought for cover. An adjoining block still
+stood with little change, and the Royal Analostan retired to that. She
+knew some of its trails; but once there, was unpleasantly surprised to
+find the place swarming with Cats that, like herself, were driven from
+their old grounds, and when the garbage-cans came out there were
+several Slummers at each. It meant a famine in the land, and Pussy,
+after standing it a few days, was reduced to seeking her other home on
+Fifth Avenue. She got there to find it shut up and deserted. She waited
+about for a day; had an unpleasant experience with a big man in a blue
+coat, and next night returned to the crowded slum.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+September and October wore away. Many of the Cats died of starvation or
+were too weak to escape their natural enemies. But Kitty, young and
+strong, still lived.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Great changes had come over the ruined blocks. Though silent on the
+night when she first saw them, they were crowded with noisy workmen all
+day. A tall building, well advanced on her arrival, was completed at
+the end of October, and Slum Kitty, driven by hunger, went sneaking up
+to a pail that a negro had set outside. The pail, unfortunately, was
+not for garbage; it was a new thing in that region: a scrubbing-pail. A
+sad disappointment, but it had a sense of comfort&mdash;there were traces of
+a familiar touch on the handle. While she was studying it, the negro
+elevator-boy came out again. In spite of his blue clothes, his odorous
+person confirmed the good impression of the handle. Kitty had retreated
+across the street. He gazed at her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Sho ef dat don't look like de Royal Ankalostan! Hyar, Pussy, Pussy,
+Pu-s-s-s-s-y! Co-o-o-o-m-e, Pu-u-s-s-sy, hyar! I 'spec's she's sho
+hungry."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Hungry! She hadn't  had a real meal for months. The negro went into the
+building and reappeared with a portion of his own lunch.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Hyar, Pussy, Puss, Puss, Puss!" It seemed very good, but Pussy had her
+doubts of the man. At length he laid the meat on the pavement, and went
+back to the door. Slum Kitty came forward very warily; sniffed at the
+meat, seized it, and fled like a little Tigress to eat her prize in
+peace.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+LIFE IV
+</H3>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+XI
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+This was the beginning of a new era. Pussy came to the door of the
+building now whenever pinched by hunger, and the good feeling for the
+negro grew. She had never understood that man before. He had always
+seemed hostile. Now he was her friend, the only one she had.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+One week she had a streak of luck. Seven good meals on seven successive
+days; and right on the top of the last meal she found a juicy dead Rat,
+the genuine thing, a perfect windfall. She had never killed a
+full-grown Rat in all her lives, but seized the prize and ran off to
+hide it for future use. She was crossing the street in front of the new
+building when an old enemy appeared,&mdash;the Wharf Dog,&mdash;and Kitty
+retreated, naturally enough, to the door where she had a friend. Just
+as she neared it, he opened the door for a well-dressed man to come
+out, and both saw the Cat with her prize.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Hello! Look at that for a Cat!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, sah," answered the negro. "Dat's ma Cat, sah; she's a terror on
+Rats, sah! hez 'em about cleaned up, sah; dat's why she's so thin."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, don't let her starve," said the man with the air of the
+landlord. "Can't you feed her?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"De liver meat-man comes reg'lar, sah; quatah dollar a week, sah," said
+the negro, fully realizing that he was entitled to the extra fifteen
+cents for "the idea."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That's all right. I'll stand it."
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+XII
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+"M-e-a-t! M-e-a-t!" is heard the magnetic, cat-conjuring cry of the old
+liver-man, as his barrow is pushed up the glorified Scrimper's Alley,
+and Cats come crowding, as of yore, to receive their due.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There are Cats black, white, yellow, and gray to be remembered, and,
+above all, there are owners to be remembered. As the barrow rounds the
+corner near the new building it makes a newly scheduled stop.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Hyar, you, get out o' the road, you common trash," cries the
+liver-man, and he waves his wand to make way for the little gray Cat
+with blue eyes and white nose. She receives an unusually large portion,
+for Sam is wisely dividing the returns evenly; and Slum Kitty retreats
+with her 'daily' into shelter of the great building, to which she is
+regularly attached. She has entered into her fourth life with prospects
+of happiness never before dreamed of. Everything was against her at
+first; now everything seems to be coming her way. It is very doubtful
+that her mind was broadened by travel, but she knew what she wanted and
+she got it. She has achieved her long-time great ambition by catching,
+not a Sparrow, but two of them, while they were clinched in mortal
+combat in the gutter.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There is no reason to suppose that she ever caught another Rat; but the
+negro secures a dead one when he can, for purposes of exhibition, lest
+her pension be imperilled. The dead one is left in the hall till the
+proprietor comes; then it is apologetically swept away. "Well, drat dat
+Cat, sah; dat Royal Ankalostan blood, sah, is terrors on Rats."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She has had several broods since. The negro thinks the Yellow Tom is
+the father of some of them, and no doubt the negro is right.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He has sold her a number of times with a perfectly clear conscience,
+knowing quite well that it is only a question of a few days before the
+Royal Analostan comes back again. Doubtless he is saving the money for
+some honorable ambition. She has learned to tolerate the elevator, and
+even to ride up and down on it. The negro stoutly maintains that once,
+when she heard the meat-man, while she was on the top floor, she
+managed to press the button that called the elevator to take her down.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She is sleek and beautiful again. She is not only one of the four
+hundred that form the inner circle about the liver-barrow, but she is
+recognized as the star pensioner among them. The liver-man is
+positively respectful. Not even the cream-and-chicken fed Cat of the
+pawn-broker's wife has such a position as the Royal Analostan. But in
+spite of her prosperity, her social position, her royal name and fake
+pedigree, the greatest pleasure of her life is to slip out and go
+a-slumming in the gloaming, for now, as in her previous lives, she is
+at heart, and likely to be, nothing but a dirty little Slum Cat.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="arnaux"></A>
+<H2 ALIGN="center">
+ARNAUX
+</H2>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE CHRONICLE OF A HOMING PIGEON
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+We passed through the side door of a big stable on West Nineteenth
+Street. The mild smell of the well-kept stalls was lost in the sweet
+odor of hay, as we mounted a ladder and entered the long garret. The
+south end was walled off, and the familiar "Coo-oo, cooooo-oo,
+ruk-at-a-coo," varied with the "whirr, whirr, whirr" of wings, informed
+us that we were at the  pigeon-loft.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+This was the home of a famous lot of birds, and to-day there was to be
+a race among fifty of the youngsters. The owner of the loft had asked
+me, as an unprejudiced outsider, to be judge in the contest.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was a training race of the young birds. They had been taken out for
+short distances with their parents once or twice, then set free to
+return to the loft. Now for the first time they were to be flown
+without the old ones. The point of start, Elizabeth, N. J., was a long
+journey for their first unaided attempt. "But then," the trainer
+remarked, "that's how we weed out the fools; only the best birds make
+it, and that's all we want back."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There was another side to the flight. It was to be a race among those
+that did return. Each of the men about the loft as well as several
+neighboring fanciers were interested in one or other of the Homers.
+They made up a purse for the winner, and on me was to devolve the
+important duty of deciding which should take the stakes. Not the first
+bird back, but the first bird into the loft, was to win, for one that
+returns to his neighborhood merely, without immediately reporting at
+home, is of little use as a letter-carrier.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Homing Pigeon used to be called the Carrier because it carried
+messages, but here I found that name restricted to the show bird, the
+creature with absurdly developed wattles; the one that carries the
+messages is now called the Homer, or Homing Pigeon&mdash;the bird that
+always comes home. These Pigeons are not of any special color, nor have
+they any of the fancy adornments of the kind that figure in Bird shows.
+They are not bred for style, but for speed and for their mental gifts.
+They must be true to their home, able to return to it without fail. The
+sense of direction is now believed to be located in the bony labyrinth
+of the ear. There is no creature with finer sense of locality and
+direction than a good Homer, and the only visible proofs of it are the
+great bulge on each side of the head over the ears, and the superb
+wings that complete his equipment to obey the noble impulse of
+home-love. Now the mental and physical equipments of the last lot of
+young birds were to be put to test.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Although there were plenty of witnesses, I thought it best to close all
+but one of the pigeon-doors and stand ready to shut that behind the
+first arrival.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I shall never forget the sensations of that day. I had been warned:
+"They start at 12; they should be here at 12:30; but look out, they
+come like a whirlwind. You hardly see them till they're in."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+We were ranged along the inside of the loft, each with an eye to a
+crack or a partly closed pigeon-door, anxiously scanning the
+southwestern horizon, when one shouted: "Look out&mdash;here they come!"
+Like a white cloud they burst into view, low skimming over the city
+roofs, around a great chimney pile, and in two seconds after first
+being seen they were back. The flash of white, the rush of pinions,
+were all so sudden, so short, that, though preparing, I was unprepared.
+I was at the only open door. A whistling arrow of blue shot in, lashed
+my face with its pinions, and passed. I had hardly time to drop the
+little door, as a yell burst from the men, "Arnaux! Arnaux! I told you
+he would. Oh, he's a darling; only three months old and a winner&mdash;he's
+a little darling!" and Arnaux's owner danced, more for joy in his bird
+than in the purse he had won.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The men sat or kneeled and watched him in positive reverence as he
+gulped a quantity of water, then turned to the food-trough.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Look at that eye, those wings, and did you ever see such a breast? Oh,
+but he's the real grit!" so his owner prattled to the silent ones whose
+birds had been defeated.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+That was the first of Arnaux's exploits. Best of fifty birds from a
+good loft, his future was bright with promise.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He was invested with the silver anklet of the Sacred Order of the High
+Homer. It bore his number, 2590 C, a number which to-day means much to
+all men in the world of the Homing Pigeon.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In that trial flight from Elizabeth only forty birds had returned. It
+is usually so. Some were weak and got left behind, some were foolish
+and strayed. By this simple process of flight selection the
+pigeon-owners keep improving their stock. Of the ten, five were seen no
+more, but five returned later that day, not all at once, but straggling
+in; the last of the loiterers was a big, lubberly Blue Pigeon. The man
+in the loft at the time called: "Here comes that old sap-headed Blue
+that Jakey was betting on. I didn't suppose he would come back, and I
+didn't care, neither, for it's my belief he has a streak of Pouter."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Big Blue, also called "Corner-box" from the nest where he was
+hatched, had shown remarkable vigor from the first. Though all were
+about the same age, he had grown faster, was bigger, and incidentally
+handsomer, though the fanciers cared little for that. He seemed fully
+aware of his importance, and early showed a disposition to bully his
+smaller cousins. His owner prophesied great things of him, but Billy,
+the stable-man, had grave doubts over the length of his neck, the
+bigness of his crop, his carriage, and his over-size. "A bird can't
+make time pushing a bag of wind ahead of him. Them long legs is dead
+weight, an' a neck like that ain't got no gimp in it," Billy would
+grunt disparagingly as he cleaned out the loft of a morning.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+II
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+The training of the birds went on after this at regular times. The
+distance from home, of the start, was "jumped" twenty-five or thirty
+miles farther each day, and its direction changed till the Homers knew
+the country for one hundred and fifty miles around New York. The
+original fifty birds dwindled to twenty, for the rigid process weeds
+out not only the weak and ill-equipped, but those also who may have
+temporary ailments or accidents, or who may make the mistake of
+over-eating at the start. There were many fine birds in that flight,
+broad-breasted, bright-eyed, long-winged creatures, formed for swiftest
+flight, for high unconscious emprise, for these were destined to be
+messengers in the service of man in times of serious need. Their colors
+were mostly white, blue, or brown. They wore no uniform, but each and
+all of the chosen remnant had the brilliant eye and the bulging ears of
+the finest Homer blood; and, best and choicest of all, nearly always
+first among them was little Arnaux. He had not much to distinguish him
+when at rest, for now all of the band had the silver anklet, but in the
+air it was that Arnaux showed his make, and when the opening of the
+hamper gave the order "Start," it was Arnaux that first got under way,
+soared to the height deemed needful to exclude all local influence,
+divined the road to home, and took it, pausing not for food, drink, or
+company.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Notwithstanding Billy's evil forecasts, the Big Blue of the Corner-box
+was one of the chosen twenty. Often he was late in returning; he never
+was first, and sometimes when he came back hours behind the rest, it
+was plain that he was neither hungry nor thirsty, sure signs that he
+was a loiterer by the way. Still he had come back; and now he wore on
+his ankle, like the rest, the sacred badge and a number from the roll
+of possible fame. Billy despised him, set him in poor contrast with
+Arnaux, but his owner would reply: "Give him a chance;'soon ripe, soon
+rotten,' an' I always notice the best bird is the slowest to show up at
+first."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Before a year little Arnaux had made a record. The hardest of all work
+is over the sea, for there is no chance of aid from landmarks; and the
+hardest of all times at sea is in fog, for then even the sun is blotted
+out and there is nothing whatever for guidance. With memory, sight, and
+hearing unavailable, the Homer has one thing left, and herein is his
+great strength, the inborn sense of direction. There is only one thing
+that can destroy this, and that is fear, hence the necessity of a stout
+little heart between those noble wings.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Arnaux, with two of his order, in course of training, had been shipped
+on an ocean steamer bound for Europe. They were to be released out of
+sight of land, but a heavy fog set in and forbade the start. The
+steamer took them onward, the intention being to send them back with
+the next vessel. When ten hours out the engine broke down, the fog
+settled dense over the sea, and the vessel was adrift and helpless as a
+log. She could only whistle for assistance, and so far as results were
+concerned, the captain might as well have wigwagged. Then the Pigeons
+were thought of. Starback, 2592 C, was first selected. A message for
+help was written on waterproof paper, rolled up, and lashed to his
+tail-feathers on the under side. He was thrown into the air and
+disappeared. Half an hour later, a second, the Big Blue Corner-box,
+2600 C, was freighted with a letter. He flew up, but almost immediately
+returned and alighted on the rigging. He was a picture of pigeon fear;
+nothing could induce him to leave the ship. He was so terrorized that
+he was easily caught and ignominiously thrust back into the coop.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Now the third was brought out, a small, chunky bird. The shipmen did
+not know him, but they noted down from his anklet his name and number,
+Arnaux, 2590 C. It meant nothing to them. But the officer who held him
+noted that his heart did not beat so wildly as that of the last bird.
+The message was taken from the Big Blue. It ran:
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent">
+10 A.M., Tuesday.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+We broke our shaft two hundred and ten miles out from New York; we are
+drifting helplessly in the fog. Send out a tug as soon as possible. We
+are whistling one long, followed at once by one short, every sixty
+seconds.
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent">
+(Signed)  THE CAPTAIN.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+This was rolled up, wrapped in waterproof film, addressed to the
+Steamship Company, and lashed to the under side of Arnaux's middle
+tail-feather.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+When thrown into the air, he circled round the ship, then round again
+higher, then again higher in a wider circle, and he was lost to view;
+and still higher till quite out of sight and feeling of the ship. Shut
+out from the use of all his senses now but one, he gave himself up to
+that. Strong in him it was, and untrammelled of that murderous despot
+Fear. True as a needle to the Pole went Arnaux now, no hesitation, no
+doubts; within one minute of leaving the coop he was speeding straight
+as a ray of light for the loft where he was born, the only place on
+earth where he could be made content.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+That afternoon Billy was on duty when the whistle of fast wings was
+heard; a blue Flyer flashed into the loft and made for the
+water-trough. He was gulping down mouthful after mouthful, when Billy
+gasped: "Why, Arnaux, it's you, you beauty." Then, with the quick habit
+of the pigeon-man, he pulled out his watch and marked the time, 2:40
+P.M. A glance showed the tie string on the tail. He shut the door and
+dropped the catching-net quickly over Arnaux's head. A moment later he
+had the roll in his hand; in two minutes he was speeding to the office
+of the Company, for there was a fat tip in view. There he learned that
+Arnaux had made the two hundred and ten miles in fog, over sea, in four
+hours and forty minutes, and within one hour the needful help had set
+out for the unfortunate steamer.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Two hundred and ten miles in fog over sea in four hours and forty
+minutes! This was a noble record. It was duly inscribed in the rolls of
+the Homing Club. Arnaux was held while the secretary, with rubber stamp
+and indelible ink, printed on a snowy primary of his right wing the
+record of the feat, with the date and reference number.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Starback, the second bird, never was heard of again. No doubt he
+perished at sea.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Blue Corner-box came back on the tug.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+III
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+That was Arnaux's first public record; but others came fast, and
+several curious scenes were enacted in that old pigeon-loft with Arnaux
+as the central figure. One day a carriage drove up to the stable; a
+white-haired gentleman got out, climbed the dusty stairs, and sat all
+morning in the loft with Billy. Peering from his gold-rimmed glasses,
+first at a lot of papers, next across the roofs of the city, waiting,
+watching, for what? News from a little place not forty miles away&mdash;news
+of greatest weight to him, tidings that would make or break him,
+tidings that must reach him before it could be telegraphed: a telegram
+meant at least an hour's delay at each end. What was faster than that
+for forty miles? In those days there was but one thing&mdash;a high-class
+Homer. Money would count for nothing if he could win. The best, the
+very best at any price he must have, and Arnaux, with seven indelible
+records on his pinions, was the chosen messenger. An hour went by,
+another, and a third was begun, when with whistle of wings, the blue
+meteor flashed into the loft. Billy slammed the door and caught him.
+Deftly he snipped the threads and handed the roll to the banker. The
+old man turned deathly pale, fumbled it open, then his color came back.
+"Thank God!" he gasped, and then went speeding to his Board meeting,
+master of the situation. Little Arnaux had saved him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The banker wanted to buy the Homer, feeling in a vague way that he
+ought to honor and cherish him; but Billy was very clear about it.
+"What's the good? You can't buy a Homer's heart. You could keep him a
+prisoner, that's all; but nothing on earth could make him forsake the
+old loft where he was hatched." So Arnaux stayed at 211 West Nineteenth
+Street. But the banker did not forget.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There is in our country a class of miscreants who think a flying Pigeon
+is fair game, because it is probably far from home, or they shoot him
+because it is hard to fix the crime. Many a noble Homer, speeding with
+a life or death message, has been shot down by one of these wretches
+and remorselessly made into a pot-pie. Arnaux's brother Arnolf, with
+three fine records on his wings, was thus murdered in the act of
+bearing a hasty summons for the doctor. As he fell dying at the
+gunner's feet, his superb wings spread out displayed his list of
+victories. The silver badge on his leg was there, and the gunner was
+smitten with remorse. He had the message sent on; he returned the dead
+bird to the Homing Club, saying that he "found it." The owner came to
+see him; the gunner broke down under cross-examination, and was forced
+to admit that he himself had shot the Homer, but did so in behalf of a
+poor sick neighbor who craved a pigeon-pie.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There were tears in the wrath of the pigeon-man. "My bird, my beautiful
+Arnolf, twenty times has he brought vital messages, three times has he
+made records, twice has he saved human lives, and you'd shoot him for a
+pot-pie. I could punish you under the law, but I have no heart for such
+a poor revenge. I only ask you this, if ever again you have a sick
+neighbor who wants a pigeon-pie, come, we'll freely supply him with
+pie-breed squabs; but if you have a trace of manhood about you, you
+will never, never again shoot, or allow others to shoot, our noble and
+priceless messengers."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+This took place while the banker was in touch with the loft, while his
+heart was warm for the Pigeons. He was a man of influence, and the
+Pigeon Protective legislation at Albany was the immediate fruit of
+Arnaux's exploit.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+IV
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+Billy had never liked the Corner-box Blue (2600 C); notwithstanding the
+fact that he still continued in the ranks of the Silver Badge, Billy
+believed he was poor stuff. The steamer incident seemed to prove him
+coward; he certainly was a bully.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+One morning when Billy went in there was a row, two Pigeons, a large
+and a small, alternately clinching and sparring all over the floor,
+feathers flying, dust and commotion everywhere. As soon as they were
+separated Billy found that the little one was Arnaux and the big one
+was the Corner-box Blue. Arnaux had made a good fight, but was
+overmatched, for the Big Blue was half as heavy again.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Soon it was very clear what they had fought over&mdash;a pretty little lady
+Pigeon of the bluest Homing blood. The Big Blue cock had kept up a
+state of bad feeling by his bullying, but it was the Little Lady that
+had made them close in mortal combat. Billy had no authority to wring
+the Big Blue's neck, but he interfered as far as he could in behalf of
+his favorite Arnaux.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Pigeon marriages are arranged somewhat like those of mankind.
+Propinquity is the first thing: force the pair together for a time and
+let nature take its course. So Billy locked Arnaux and the Little Lady
+up together in a separate apartment for two weeks, and to make doubly
+sure he locked Big Blue up with an Available Lady in another apartment
+for two weeks.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Things turned out just as was expected. The Little Lady surrendered to
+Arnaux and the Available Lady to the Big Blue. Two nests were begun and
+everything shaped for a "lived happily ever after." But the Big Blue
+was very big and handsome. He could blow out his crop and strut in the
+sun and make rainbows all round his neck in a way that might turn the
+heart of the staidest Homerine.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Arnaux, though sturdily built, was small and except for his brilliant
+eyes, not especially good-looking. Moreover, he was often away on
+important business, and the Big Blue had nothing to do but stay around
+the loft and display his unlettered wings.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It is the custom of moralists to point to the lower animals, and
+especially to the Pigeon, for examples of love and constancy, and
+properly so, but, alas there are exceptions. Vice is not by any means
+limited to the human race.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Arnaux's wife had been deeply impressed with the Big Blue, at the
+outset, and at length while her spouse was absent the dreadful thing
+took place.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Arnaux returned from Boston one day to find that the Big Blue, while he
+retained his own Available Lady in the corner-box, had also annexed the
+box and wife that belonged to himself, and a desperate battle followed.
+The only spectators were the two wives, but they maintained an
+indifferent aloofness. Arnaux fought with his famous wings, but they
+were none the better weapons because they now bore twenty records. His
+beak and feet were small, as became his blood, and his stout little
+heart could not make up for his lack of weight. The battle went against
+him. His wife sat unconcernedly in the nest, as though it were not her
+affair, and Arnaux might have been killed but for the timely arrival of
+Billy. He was angry enough to wring the Blue bird's neck, but the bully
+escaped from the loft in time. Billy took tender care of Arnaux for a
+few days. At the end of a week he was well again, and in ten days he
+was once more on the road. Meanwhile he had evidently forgiven his
+faithless wife, for, without any apparent feeling, he took up his
+nesting as before. That month he made two new records. He brought a
+message ten miles in eight minutes, and he came from Boston in four
+hours. Every moment of the way he had been impelled by the
+master-passion of home-love. But it was a poor home-coming if his wife
+figured at all in his thoughts, for he found her again flirting with
+the Big Blue cock. Tired as he was, the duel was renewed, and again
+would have been to a finish but for Billy's interference. He separated
+the fighters, then shut the Blue cock up in a coop, determined to get
+rid of him in some way. Meanwhile the "Any Age Sweepstakes" handicap
+from Chicago to New York was on, a race of nine hundred miles. Arnaux
+had been entered six months before. His forfeit-money was up, and
+notwithstanding his domestic complications, his friends felt that he
+must not fail to appear.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The birds were sent by train to Chicago, to be liberated at intervals
+there according to their handicap, and last of the start was Arnaux.
+They lost no time, and outside of Chicago several of these prime Flyers
+joined by common impulse into a racing flock that went through air on
+the same invisible track. A Homer may make a straight line when
+following his general sense of direction, but when following a familiar
+back track he sticks to the well-remembered landmarks. Most of the
+birds had been trained by way of Columbus and Buffalo. Arnaux knew the
+Columbus route, but also he knew that by Detroit, and after leaving
+Lake Michigan, he took the straight line for Detroit. Thus he caught up
+on his handicap and had the advantage of many miles. Detroit, Buffalo,
+Rochester, with their familiar towers and chimneys, faded behind him,
+and Syracuse was near at hand. It was now late afternoon; six hundred
+miles in twelve hours he had flown and was undoubtedly leading the
+race; but the usual thirst of the Flyer had attacked him. Skimming over
+the city roofs, he saw a loft of Pigeons, and descending from his high
+course in two or three great circles, he followed the ingoing Birds to
+the loft and drank greedily at the water-trough, as he had often done
+before, and as every pigeon-lover hospitably expects the messengers to
+do. The owner of the loft was there and noted the strange Bird. He
+stepped quietly to where he could inspect him. One of his own Pigeons
+made momentary opposition to the stranger, and Arnaux, sparring
+sidewise with an open wing in Pigeon style, displayed the long array of
+printed records. The man was a fancier. His interest was aroused; he
+pulled the string that shut the flying door, and in a few minutes
+Arnaux was his prisoner.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The robber spread the much-inscribed wings, read record after record,
+and glancing at the silver badge&mdash;it should have been gold&mdash;he read his
+name&mdash;Arnaux; then exclaimed: "Arnaux! Arnaux! Oh, I've heard of you,
+you little beauty, and it's glad I am to trap you." He snipped the
+message from his tail, unrolled it, and read: "Arnaux left Chicago this
+morning at 4 A.M., scratched in the Any Age Sweepstakes for New York."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Six hundred miles in twelve hours! By the powers, that's a
+record-breaker." And the pigeon-stealer gently, almost reverently, put
+the fluttering Bird safely into a padded cage. "Well," he added, "I
+know it's no use trying to make you stay, but I can breed from you and
+have some of your strain."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+So Arnaux was shut up in a large and comfortable loft with several
+other prisoners. The man, though a thief, was a lover of Homers; he
+gave his captive everything that could insure his comfort and safety.
+For three months he left him in that loft. At first Arnaux did nothing
+all day but walk up and down the wire screen, looking high and low for
+means of escape; but in the fourth month he seemed to have abandoned
+the attempt, and the watchful jailer began the second part of his
+scheme. He introduced a coy young lady Pigeon. But it did not seem to
+answer; Arnaux was not even civil to her. After a time the jailer
+removed the female, and Arnaux was left in solitary confinement for a
+month. Now a different female was brought in, but with no better luck;
+and thus it went on&mdash;for a year different charmers were introduced.
+Arnaux either violently repelled them or was scornfully indifferent,
+and at times the old longing to get away, came back with twofold power,
+so that he darted up and down the wire front or dashed with all his
+force against it.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+When the storied feathers of his wings began their annual moult, his
+jailer saved them as precious things, and as each new feather came he
+reproduced on it the record of its owner's fame.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Two years went slowly by, and the jailer had put Arnaux in a new loft
+and brought in another lady Pigeon. By chance she closely resembled the
+faithless one at home. Arnaux actually heeded the newcomer. Once the
+jailer thought he saw his famous prisoner paying some slight attention
+to the charmer, and, yes, he surely saw her preparing a nest. Then
+assuming that they had reached a full understanding, the jailer, for
+the first time, opened the outlet, and Arnaux was free. Did he hang
+around in doubt? Did he hesitate? No, not for one moment. As soon as
+the drop of the door left open the way, he shot through, he spread
+those wonderful blazoned wings, and, with no second thought for the
+latest Circe, sprang from the hated prison loft&mdash;away and away.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+V
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+We have no means of looking into the Pigeon's mind; we may go wrong in
+conjuring up for it deep thoughts of love and welcome home; but we are
+safe in this, we cannot too strongly paint, we cannot too highly praise
+and glorify that wonderful God-implanted, mankind-fostered home-love
+that glows unquenchably in this noble bird. Call it what you like, a
+mere instinct deliberately constructed by man for his selfish ends,
+explain it away if you will, dissect it, misname it, and it still is
+there, in overwhelming, imperishable master-power, as long as the brave
+little heart and wings can beat.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Home, home, sweet home! Never had mankind a stronger love of home than
+Arnaux. The trials and sorrows of the old pigeon-loft were forgotten in
+that all-dominating force of his nature. Not years of prison bars, not
+later loves, nor fear of death, could down its power; and Arnaux, had
+the gift of song been his, must surely have sung as sings a hero in his
+highest joy, when sprang he from the 'lighting board, up-circling free,
+soaring, drawn by the only impulse that those glorious wings would
+honor,&mdash;up, up, in widening, heightening circles of ashy blue in the
+blue, flashing those many-lettered wings of white, till they seemed
+like jets of fire&mdash;up and on, driven by that home-love, faithful to his
+only home and to his faithless mate; closing his eyes, they say;
+closing his ears, they tell; shutting his mind,&mdash;we all believe,&mdash;to
+nearer things, to two years of his life, to one half of his prime, but
+soaring in the blue, retiring, as a saint might do, into his inner
+self, giving himself up to that inmost guide. He was the captain of the
+ship, but the pilot, the chart and compass, all, were that
+deep-implanted instinct. One thousand feet above the trees the
+inscrutable whisper came, and Arnaux in arrowy swiftness now was
+pointing for the south-southeast. The little flashes of white fire on
+each side were lost in the low sky, and the reverent robber of Syracuse
+saw Arnaux nevermore.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The fast express was steaming down the valley. It was far ahead, but
+Arnaux overtook and passed it, as the flying wild Duck passes the
+swimming Muskrat. High in the valleys he went, low over the hills of
+Chenango, where the pines were combing the breezes.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Out from his oak-tree eyrie a Hawk came wheeling and sailing, silent,
+for he had marked the Flyer, and meant him for his prey. Arnaux turned
+neither right nor left, nor raised nor lowered his flight, nor lost a
+wing-beat. The Hawk was in waiting in the gap ahead, and Arnaux passed
+him, even as a Deer in his prime may pass by a Bear in his pathway.
+Home! home! was the only burning thought, the blinding impulse.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Beat, beat, beat, those flashing pinions went with speed unslacked on
+the now familiar road. In an hour the Catskills were at hand. In two
+hours he was passing over them. Old friendly places, swiftly coming
+now, lent more force to his wings. Home! home! was the silent song that
+his heart was singing. Like the traveller dying of thirst, that sees
+the palm-trees far ahead, his brilliant eyes took in the distant smoke
+of Manhattan.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Out from the crest of the Catskills there launched a Falcon. Swiftest
+of the race of rapine, proud of his strength, proud of his wings, he
+rejoiced in a worthy prey. Many and many a Pigeon had been borne to his
+nest, and riding the wind he came, swooping, reserving his strength,
+awaiting the proper time. Oh, how well he knew the very moment! Down,
+down like a flashing javelin; no wild Duck, no Hawk could elude him,
+for this was a Falcon. Turn back now, O Homer, and save yourself; go
+round the dangerous hills. Did he turn? Not a whit! for this was
+Arnaux. Home! home! home! was his only thought. To meet the danger, he
+merely added to his speed; and the Peregrine stooped; stooped at
+what?&mdash;a flashing of color, a twinkling of whiteness&mdash;and went back
+empty. While Arnaux cleft the air of the valley as a stone from a
+sling, to be lost&mdash;a white-winged bird&mdash;a spot with flashing halo&mdash;and,
+quickly, a speck in the offing. On down the dear valley of Hudson, the
+well-known highway; for two years he had not seen it! Now he dropped
+low as the noon breeze came north and ruffled the river below him.
+Home! home! home! and the towers of a city are coming in view! Home!
+home! past the great spider-bridge of Poughkeepsie, skimming, skirting
+the river-banks. Low now by the bank as the wind arose. Low, alas! too
+low!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+What fiend was it tempted a gunner in June to lurk on that hill by the
+margin? what devil directed his gaze to the twinkling of white that
+came from the blue to the northward? Oh, Arnaux, Arnaux, skimming low,
+forget not the gunner of old! Too low, too low you are clearing that
+hill. Too low&mdash;too late!  Flash&mdash;bang! and the death-hail has reached
+him; reached, maimed, but not downed him. Out of the flashing pinions
+broken feathers printed with records went fluttering earthward. The
+"naught" of his sea record was gone. Not two hundred and ten, but
+twenty-one miles it now read. Oh, shameful pillage! A dark stain
+appeared on his bosom, but Arnaux kept on. Home, home, homeward bound.
+The danger was past in an instant. Home, homeward he steered straight
+as before, but the wonderful speed was diminished; not a mile a minute
+now; and the wind made undue sounds in his tattered pinions. The stain
+in his breast told of broken force; but on, straight on, he flew. Home,
+home was in sight, and the pain in his breast was forgotten. The tall
+towers of the city were in clear view of his far-seeing eye as he
+skimmed by the high cliffs of Jersey. On, on&mdash;the pinion might flag,
+the eye might darken, but the home-love was stronger and stronger.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Under the tall Palisades, to be screened from the wind, he passed, over
+the sparkling water, over the trees, under the Peregrines' eyrie, under
+the pirates' castle where the great grim Peregrines sat; peering like
+black-masked highwaymen they marked the on-coming Pigeon. Arnaux knew
+them of old. Many a message was lying undelivered in that nest, many a
+record-bearing plume had fluttered away from its fastness. But Arnaux
+had faced them before, and now he came as before&mdash;on, onward, swift,
+but not as he had been; the deadly gun had sapped his force, had
+lowered his speed. On, on; and the Peregrines, biding their time, went
+forth like two bow-bolts; strong and lightning-swift they went against
+one weak and wearied.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Why tell of the race that followed? Why paint the despair of a brave
+little heart in sight of the home he had craved in vain? in a minute
+all was over. The Peregrines screeched in their triumph. Screeching and
+sailing, they swung to their eyrie, and the prey in their claws was the
+body, the last of the bright little Arnaux. There on the rocks the
+beaks and claws of the bandits were red with the life of the hero. Torn
+asunder were those matchless wings, and their records were scattered
+unnoticed. In sun and in storm they lay till the killers themselves
+were killed and their stronghold rifled. And none knew the fate of the
+peerless Bird till deep in the dust and rubbish of that pirate-nest the
+avenger found, among others of its kind, a silver ring, the sacred
+badge of the High Homer, and read upon it the pregnant inscription:
+"ARNAUX, 2590 C."
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="badlands"></A>
+<H2 ALIGN="center">
+BADLANDS BILLY
+</H2>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+The Wolf that Won
+</H3>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+I
+</H3>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE HOWL BY NIGHT
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+Do you know the three calls of the hunting Wolf:&mdash;the long-drawn deep
+howl, the muster, that tells of game discovered but too strong for the
+finder to manage alone; and the higher ululation that ringing and
+swelling is the cry of the pack on a hot scent; and the sharp bark
+coupled with a short howl that, seeming least of all, is yet a gong of
+doom, for this is the cry "Close in"&mdash;this is the finish?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+We were riding the Badland Buttes, King and I, with a pack of various
+hunting Dogs stringing behind or trotting alongside. The sun had gone
+from the sky, and a blood-streak marked the spot where he died, away
+over Sentinel Butte. The hills were dim, the valleys dark, when from
+the nearest gloom there rolled a long-drawn cry that all men recognize
+instinctively&mdash;melodious, yet with a tone in it that sends a shudder up
+the spine, though now it has lost all menace for mankind. We listened
+for a moment. It was the Wolf-hunter who broke silence: "That's
+Badlands Billy; ain't it a voice? He's out for his beef to-night."
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+II
+</H3>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+ANCIENT DAYS
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+In pristine days the Buffalo herds were followed by bands of Wolves
+that preyed on the sick, the weak, and the wounded. When the Buffalo
+were exterminated the Wolves were hard put for support, but the Cattle
+came and solved the question for them by taking the Buffaloes' place.
+This caused the wolf-war. The ranchmen offered a bounty for each Wolf
+killed, and every cowboy out of work, was supplied with traps and
+poison for wolf-killing. The very expert made this their sole business
+and became known as wolvers. King Ryder was one of these. He was a
+quiet, gentlespoken fellow, with a keen eye and an insight into animal
+life that gave him especial power over Broncos and Dogs, as well as
+Wolves and Bears, though in the last two cases it was power merely to
+surmise where they were and how best to get at them. He had been a
+wolver for years, and greatly surprised me by saying that "never in all
+his experience had he known a Gray-wolf to attack a human being."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+We had many camp-fire talks while the other men were sleeping, and then
+it was I learned the little that he knew about Badlands Billy. "Six
+times have I seen him and the seventh will be Sunday, you bet. He takes
+his long rest then." And thus on the very ground where it all fell out,
+to the noise of the night wind and the yapping of the Coyote,
+interrupted sometimes by the deep-drawn howl of the hero himself, I
+heard chapters of this history which, with others gleaned in many
+fields, gave me the story of the Big Dark Wolf of Sentinel Butte.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+III
+</H3>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+IN THE CAŃON
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+Away back in the spring of '92 a wolver was "wolving" on the east side
+of the Sentinel Mountain that so long was a principal landmark of the
+old Plainsmen. Pelts were not good in May, but the bounties were high,
+five dollars a head, and double for She-wolves. As he went down to the
+creek one morning he saw a Wolf coming to drink on the other side. He
+had an easy shot, and on killing it found it was a nursing She-wolf.
+Evidently her family were somewhere near, so he spent two or three days
+searching in all the likely places, but found no clue to the den.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Two weeks afterward, as the wolver rode down an adjoining cańon, he saw
+a Wolf come out of a hole. The ever-ready rifle flew up, and another
+ten-dollar scalp was added to his string. Now he dug into the den and
+found the litter, a most surprising one indeed, for it consisted not of
+the usual five or six Wolf-pups, but of eleven, and these, strange to
+say, were of two sizes, five of them larger and older than the other
+six. Here were two distinct families with one mother, and as he added
+their scalps to his string of trophies the truth dawned on the hunter.
+One lot was surely the family of the She-wolf he had killed two weeks
+before. The case was clear: the little ones awaiting the mother that
+was never to come, had whined piteously and more loudly as their
+hunger-pangs increased; the other mother passing had heard the Cubs;
+her heart was tender now, her own little ones had so recently come, and
+she cared for the orphans, carried them to her own den, and was
+providing for the double family when the rifleman had cut the gentle
+chapter short.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Many a wolver has dug into a wolf-den to find nothing. The old Wolves
+or possibly the Cubs themselves often dig little side pockets and off
+galleries, and when an enemy is breaking in they hide in these. The
+loose earth conceals the small pocket and thus the Cubs escape. When
+the wolver retired with his scalps he did not know that the biggest of
+all the Cubs, was still in the den, and even had he waited about for
+two hours, he might have been no wiser. Three hours later the sun went
+down and there was a slight scratching afar in the hole; first two
+little gray paws, then a small black nose appeared in a soft sand-pile
+to one side of the den. At length the Cub came forth from his hiding.
+He had been frightened by the attack on the den; now he was perplexed
+by its condition.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was thrice as large as it had been and open at the top now. Lying
+near were things that smelled like his brothers and sisters, but they
+were repellent to him. He was filled with fear as he sniffed at them,
+and sneaked aside into a thicket of grass, as a Night-hawk boomed over
+his head. He crouched all night in that thicket. He did not dare to go
+near the den, and knew not where else he could go. The next morning
+when two Vultures came swooping down on the bodies, the Wolf-cub ran
+off in the thicket, and seeking its deepest cover, was led down a
+ravine to a wide valley. Suddenly there arose from the grass a big
+She-wolf, like his mother, yet different, a stranger, and instinctively
+the stray Cub sank to the earth, as the old Wolf bounded on him. No
+doubt the Cub had been taken for some lawful prey, but a whiff set that
+right. She stood over him for an instant. He grovelled at her feet. The
+impulse to kill him or at least give him a shake died away. He had the
+smell of a young Cub. Her own were about his age, her heart was
+touched, and when he found courage enough to put his nose up and smell
+her nose, she made no angry demonstration except a short half-hearted
+growl. Now, however, he had smelled something that he sorely needed. He
+had not fed since the day before, and when the old Wolf turned to leave
+him, he tumbled after her on clumsy puppy legs. Had the Mother-wolf
+been far from home he must soon have been left behind, but the nearest
+hollow was the chosen place, and the Cub arrived at the den's mouth
+soon after the Mother-wolf.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+A stranger is an enemy, and the old one rushing forth to the defense,
+met the Cub again, and again was restrained by something that rose in
+her responsive to the smell. The Cub had thrown himself on his back in
+utter submission, but that did not prevent his nose reporting to him
+the good thing almost within reach. The She-wolf went into the den and
+curled herself about her brood; the Cub persisted in following. She
+snarled as he approached her own little ones, but disarming wrath each
+time by submission and his very cubhood, he was presently among her
+brood, helping himself to what he wanted so greatly, and thus he
+adopted himself into her family. In a few days he was so much one of
+them that the mother forgot about his being a stranger. Yet he was
+different from them in several ways&mdash;older by two weeks, stronger, and
+marked on the neck and shoulders with what afterward grew to be a dark
+mane.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Little Duskymane could not have been happier in his choice of a
+foster-mother, for the Yellow Wolf was not only a good hunter with a
+fund of cunning, but she was a Wolf of modern ideas as well. The old
+tricks of tolling a Prairie Dog, relaying for Antelope, houghing a
+Bronco or flanking a Steer she had learned partly from instinct and
+partly from the example of her more experienced relatives, when they
+joined to form the winter bands. But, just as necessary nowadays, she
+had learned that all men carry guns, that guns are irresistible, that
+the only way to avoid them is by keeping out of sight while the sun is
+up, and yet that at night they are harmless. She had a fair
+comprehension of traps, indeed she had been in one once, and though she
+left a toe behind in pulling free, it was a toe most advantageously
+disposed of; thenceforth, though not comprehending the nature of the
+trap, she was thoroughly imbued with the horror of it, with the idea
+indeed that iron is dangerous, and at any price it should be avoided.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+On one occasion, when she and five others were planning to raid a Sheep
+yard, she held back at the last minute because some newstrung wires
+appeared. The others rushed in to find the Sheep beyond their reach,
+themselves in a death-trap.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Thus she had learned the newer dangers, and while it is unlikely that
+she had any clear mental conception of them she had acquired a
+wholesome distrust of all things strange, and a horror of one or two in
+particular that proved her lasting safeguard. Each year she raised her
+brood successfully and the number of Yellow Wolves increased in the
+country. Guns, traps, men and the new animals they brought had been
+learned, but there was yet another lesson before her&mdash;a terrible one
+indeed.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+About the time Duskymane's brothers were a month old his foster-mother
+returned in a strange condition. She was frothing at the mouth, her
+legs trembled, and she fell in a convulsion near the doorway of the
+den, but recovering, she came in. Her jaws quivered, her teeth rattled
+a little as she tried to lick the little ones; she seized her own front
+leg and bit it so as not to bite them, but at length she grew quieter
+and calmer. The Cubs had retreated in fear to a far pocket, but now
+they returned and crowded about her to seek their usual food. The
+mother recovered, but was very ill for two or three days, and those
+days with the poison in her system worked disaster for the brood. They
+were terribly sick; only the strongest could survive, and when the
+trial of strength was over, the den contained only the old one and the
+Black-maned Cub, the one she had adopted. Thus little Duskymane became
+her sole charge; all her strength was devoted to feeding him, and he
+thrived apace.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Wolves are quick to learn certain things. The reactions of smell are
+the greatest that a Wolf can feel, and thenceforth both Cub and
+foster-mother experienced a quick, unreasoning sense of fear and hate
+the moment the smell of strychnine reached them.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+IV
+</H3>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE RUDIMENTS OF WOLF TRAINING
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+With the sustenance of seven at his service the little Wolf had every
+reason to grow, and when in the autumn he began to follow his mother on
+her hunting trips he was as tall as she was. Now a change of region was
+forced on them, for numbers of little Wolves were growing up. Sentinel
+Butte, the rocky fastness of the plains, was claimed by many that were
+big and strong; the weaker must move out, and with them Yellow Wolf and
+the Dusky Cub.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Wolves have no language in the sense that man has; their vocabulary is
+probably limited to a dozen howls, barks, and grunts expressing the
+simplest emotions; but they have several other modes of conveying
+ideas, and one very special method of spreading information&mdash;the
+Wolf-telephone. Scattered over their range are a number of recognized
+"centrals." Sometimes these are stones, sometimes the angle of
+cross-trails, sometimes a Buffalo-skull&mdash;indeed, any conspicuous object
+near a main trail is used. A Wolf calling here, as a Dog does at a
+telegraph post, or a Muskrat at a certain mud-pie point, leaves his
+body-scent and learns what other visitors have been there recently to
+do the same. He learns also whence they came and where they went, as
+well as something about their condition, whether hunted, hungry,
+gorged, or sick. By this system of registration a Wolf knows where his
+friends, as well as his foes, are to be found. And Duskymane, following
+after the Yellow Wolf, was taught the places and uses of the many
+signal-stations without any conscious attempt at teaching on the part
+of his foster-mother. Example backed by his native instincts was indeed
+the chief teacher, but on one occasion at least there was something
+very like the effort of a human parent to guard her child in danger.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Dark Cub had learned the rudiments of Wolf life: that the way to
+fight Dogs is to run, and to fight as you run, never grapple, but snap,
+snap, snap, and make for the rough country where Horses cannot bring
+their riders.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He learned not to bother about the Coyotes that follow for the pickings
+when you hunt; you cannot catch them and they do you no harm.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He knew he must not waste time dashing after Birds that alight on the
+ground; and that he must keep away from the little black and white
+Animal with the bushy tail. It is not very good to eat, and it is very,
+very bad to smell.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Poison! Oh, he never forgot that smell from the day when the den was
+cleared of all his foster-brothers.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He now knew that the first move in attacking Sheep was to scatter them;
+a lone Sheep is a foolish and easy prey; that the way to round up a
+band of Cattle was to frighten a Calf.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He learned that he must always attack a Steer behind, a Sheep in front,
+and a Horse in the middle, that is, on the flank, and never, never
+attack a man at all, never even face him. But an important lesson was
+added to these, one in which the mother consciously taught him of a
+secret foe.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+V
+</H3>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE LESSON ON TRAPS
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+A Calf had died in branding-time and now, two weeks later, was in its
+best state for perfect taste, not too fresh, not over-ripe&mdash;that is, in
+a Wolf's opinion&mdash;and the wind carried this information afar. The
+Yellow Wolf and Duskymane were out for supper, though not yet knowing
+where, when the tidings of veal arrived, and they trotted up the wind.
+The Calf was in an open place, and plain to be seen in the moonlight. A
+Dog would have trotted right up to the carcass, an  old-time Wolf might
+have done so, but constant war had developed constant vigilance in the
+Yellow Wolf, and trusting nothing and no one but her nose, she slacked
+her speed to a walk. On coming in easy view she stopped, and for long
+swung her nose, submitting the wind to the closest possible chemical
+analysis. She tried it with her finest tests, blew all the membranes
+clean again and tried it once more; and this was the report of the
+trusty nostrils, yes, the unanimous report. First, rich and racy smell
+of Calf, seventy per cent.; smells of grass, bugs, wood, flowers,
+trees, sand, and other uninteresting negations, fifteen per cent.;
+smell of her Cub and herself, positive but ignorable, ten per cent.;
+smell of human tracks, two per cent.; smell of smoke, one per cent.; of
+sweaty leather smell, one per cent.; of human body-scent (not
+discernible in some samples), one-half per cent.; smell of iron, a
+trace.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The old Wolf crouched a little but sniffed hard with swinging nose; the
+young Wolf imitatively did the same. She backed off to a greater
+distance; the Cub stood. She gave a low whine; he followed unwillingly.
+She circled around the tempting carcass; a new smell was
+recorded&mdash;Coyote trail-scent, soon followed by Coyote body-scent. Yes,
+there they were sneaking along a near ridge, and now as she passed to
+one side the samples changed, the wind had lost nearly every trace of
+Calf; miscellaneous, commonplace, and uninteresting smells were there
+instead. The human track-scent was as before, the trace of leather was
+gone, but fully one-half per cent, of iron-odor, and body smell of man
+raised to nearly two per cent.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Fully alarmed, she conveyed her fear to the Cub, by her rigid pose, her
+air intent, and her slightly bristling mane.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She continued her round. At one time on a high place the human body
+scent was doubly strong, then as she dropped it faded. Then the wind
+brought the full calf-odor with several track-scents of Coyotes and
+sundry Birds. Her suspicions were lulling as in a smalling circle she
+neared the tempting feast from the windward side. She had even advanced
+straight toward it for a few steps when the sweaty leather sang loud
+and strong again, and smoke and iron mingled like two strands of a
+parti-colored yarn. Centring all her attention on this, she advanced
+within two leaps of the Calf. There on the ground was a scrap of
+leather, telling also of a human touch, close at hand the Calf, and now
+the iron and smoke on the full vast smell of Calf were like a snake
+trail across the trail of a whole Beef herd. It was so slight that the
+Cub, with the appetite and impatience of youth, pressed up against his
+mother's shoulder to go past and eat without delay. She seized him by
+the neck and flung him back. A stone struck by his feet rolled forward
+and stopped with a peculiar clink. The danger smell was greatly
+increased at this, and the Yellow Wolf backed slowly from the feast,
+the Cub unwillingly following.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+As he looked wistfully he saw the Coyotes drawing nearer, mindful
+chiefly to avoid the Wolves. He watched their really cautious advance;
+it seemed like heedless rushing compared with his mother's approach.
+The Calf smell rolled forth in exquisite and overpowering excellence
+now, for they were tearing the meat, when a sharp clank was heard and a
+yelp from a Coyote. At the same time the quiet night was shocked with a
+roar and a flash of fire. Heavy shots spattered Calf and Coyotes, and
+yelping like beaten Dogs they scattered, excepting one that was killed
+and a second struggling in the trap set here by the ever-active
+wolvers. The air was charged with the hateful smells redoubled now, and
+horrid smells additional. The Yellow Wolf glided down a hollow and led
+her Cub away in flight, but, as they went, they saw a man rush from the
+bank near where the mother's nose had warned her of the human scent.
+They saw him kill the caught Coyote and set the traps for more.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+VI
+</H3>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE BEGUILING OF THE YELLOW WOLF
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+The life game is a hard game, for we may win ten thousand times, and if
+we fail but once our gain is gone. How many hundred times had the
+Yellow Wolf scorned the traps; how many Cubs she had trained to do the
+same! Of all the dangers to her life she best knew traps.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+October had come; the Cub was now much taller than the mother. The
+wolver had seen them once&mdash;a Yellow Wolf followed by another, whose
+long, awkward legs, big, soft feet, thin neck, and skimpy tail
+proclaimed him this year's Cub. The record of the dust and sand said
+that the old one had lost a right front toe, and that the young one was
+of giant size.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was the wolver that thought to turn the carcass of the Calf to
+profit, but he was disappointed in getting Coyotes instead of Wolves.
+It was the beginning of the trapping season, for this month fur is
+prime. A young trapper often fastens the bait on the trap; an
+experienced one does not. A good trapper will even put the bait at one
+place and the trap ten or twenty feet away, but at a spot that the Wolf
+is likely to cross in circling. A favorite plan is to hide three or
+four traps around an open place, and scatter some scraps of meat in the
+middle. The traps are buried out of sight after being smoked to hide
+the taint of hands and iron. Sometimes no bait is used except a little
+piece of cotton or a tuft of feathers that may catch the Wolf's eye or
+pique its curiosity and tempt it to circle on the fateful, treacherous
+ground. A good trapper varies his methods continually so that the
+Wolves cannot learn his ways. Their only safeguards are perpetual
+vigilance and distrust of all smells that are known to be of man.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The wolver, with a load of the strongest steel traps, had begun his
+autumn work on the 'Cottonwood.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+An old Buffalo trail crossing the river followed a little draw that
+climbed the hills to the level upland. All animals use these trails,
+Wolves and Foxes as well as Cattle and Deer: they are the main
+thoroughfares. A cottonwood stump not far from where it plunged to the
+gravelly stream was marked with Wolf signs that told the wolver of its
+use. Here was an excellent place for traps, not on the trail, for
+Cattle were here in numbers, but twenty yards away on a level, sandy
+spot he set four traps in a twelve-foot square. Near each he scattered
+two or three scraps of meat; three or four white feathers on a spear of
+grass in the middle completed the setting. No human eye, few animal
+noses, could have detected the hidden danger of that sandy ground, when
+the sun and wind and the sand itself had dissipated the man-track taint.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Yellow Wolf had seen and passed, and taught her giant son to pass,
+such traps a thousand times before.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Cattle came to water in the heat of the day. They strung down the
+Buffalo path as once the Buffalo did. The little Vesper-birds flitted
+before them, the Cowbirds rode on them, and the Prairie-dogs chattered
+at them, just as they once did at the Buffalo.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Down from the gray-green mesa with its green-gray rocks, they marched
+with imposing solemnity, importance, and directness of purpose. Some
+frolicsome Calves, playing along-side the trail, grew sober and walked
+behind their mothers as the river flat was reached. The old Cow that
+headed the procession sniffed suspiciously as she passed the "trap
+set," but it was far away, otherwise she would have pawed and bellowed
+over the scraps of bloody beef till every trap was sprung and harmless.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But she led to the river. After all had drunk their fill they lay down
+on the nearest bank till late afternoon. Then their unheard dinner-gong
+aroused them, and started them on the backward march to where the
+richest pastures grew.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+One or two small birds had picked at the scraps of meat, some
+blue-bottle flies buzzed about, but the sinking sun saw the sandy mask
+untouched.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+A brown Marsh Hawk came skimming over the river flat as the sun began
+his color play. Blackbirds dashed into thickets, and easily avoided his
+clumsy pounce. It was too early for the Mice, but, as he skimmed the
+ground, his keen eye caught the flutter of feathers by the trap and
+turned his flight. The feathers in their uninteresting emptiness were
+exposed before he was near, but now he saw the scraps of meat.
+Guileless of cunning, he alighted and was devouring a second lump
+when&mdash;clank&mdash;the dust was flirted high and the Marsh Hawk was held by
+his toes, struggling vainly in the jaws of a powerful wolf-trap. He was
+not much hurt. His ample wings winnowed from time to time, in efforts
+to be free, but he was helpless, even as a Sparrow might be in a
+rat-trap, and when the sun had played his fierce chromatic scale, his
+swan-song sung, and died as he dies only in the blazing west, and the
+shades had fallen on the melodramatic scene of the Mouse in the
+elephant-trap, there was a deep, rich sound on the high flat butte,
+answered by another, neither very long, neither repeated, and both
+instinctive rather than necessary. One was the muster-call of an
+ordinary Wolf, the other the answer of a very big male, not a pair in
+this case, but mother and son&mdash;Yellow Wolf and Duskymane. They came
+trotting together down the Buffalo trail. They paused at the telephone
+box on the hill and again at the old cottonwood root, and were making
+for the river when the Hawk in the trap fluttered his wings. The old
+Wolf turned toward him,-a wounded bird on the ground surely, and she
+rushed forward. Sun and sand soon burn all trail-scents; there was
+nothing to warn her. She sprang on the flopping bird and a chop of her
+jaws ended his troubles, but a horrid sound&mdash;the gritting of her teeth
+on steel&mdash;told her of peril. She dropped the Hawk and sprang backward
+from the dangerous ground, but landed in the second trap. High on her
+foot its death-grip closed, and leaping with all her strength, to
+escape, she set her fore foot in another of the lurking grips of steel.
+Never had a trap been so baited before. Never was she so unsuspicious.
+Never was catch more sure. Fear and fury filled the old Wolf's heart;
+she tugged and strained, she chewed the chains, she snarled and foamed.
+One trap with its buried log, she might have dragged; with two, she was
+helpless. Struggle as she might, it only worked those relentless jaws
+more deeply into her feet. She snapped wildly at the air; she tore the
+dead Hawk into shreds; she roared the short, barking roar of a crazy
+Wolf. She bit at the traps, at her cub, at herself. She tore her legs
+that were held; she gnawed in frenzy at her flank, she chopped off her
+tail in her madness; she splintered all her teeth on the steel, and
+filled her bleeding, foaming jaws with clay and sand.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She struggled till she fell, and writhed about or lay like dead, till
+strong enough to rise and grind the chains again with her teeth.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And so the night passed by.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And Duskymane? Where was he? The feeling of the time when his
+foster-mother had come home poisoned, now returned; but he was even
+more afraid of her. She seemed filled with fighting hate. He held away
+and whined a little; he slunk off and came back when she lay still,
+only to retreat again, as she sprang forward, raging at him, and then
+renewed her efforts at the traps. He did not understand it, but he knew
+this much, she was in terrible trouble, and the cause seemed to be the
+same as that which had scared them the night they had ventured near the
+Calf.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Duskymane hung about all night, fearing to go near, not knowing what to
+do, and helpless as his mother.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+At dawn the next day a sheepherder seeking lost Sheep discovered her
+from a neighboring hill. A signal mirror called the wolver from his
+camp. Duskymane saw the new danger. He was a mere Cub, though so tall;
+he could not face the man, and fled at his approach.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The wolver rode up to the sorry, tattered, bleeding She-wolf in the
+trap. He raised his rifle and soon the struggling stopped.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The wolver read the trail and the signs about, and remembering those he
+had read before, he divined that this was the Wolf with the great
+Cub&mdash;the She-wolf of Sentinel Butte.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Duskymane heard the "crack" as he scurried off into cover. He could
+scarcely know what it meant, but he never saw his kind old
+foster-mother again. Thenceforth he must face the world alone.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+VII
+</H3>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE YOUNG WOLF WINS A PLACE AND FAME
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+Instinct is no doubt a Wolf's first and best guide, but gifted parents
+are a great start in life. The dusky-maned cub had had a mother of rare
+excellence and he reaped the advantage of all her cleverness. He had
+inherited an exquisite nose and had absolute confidence in its
+admonitions. Mankind has difficulty in recognizing the power of
+nostrils. A Gray-wolf can glance over the morning wind as a man does
+over his newspaper, and get all the latest news. He can swing over the
+ground and have the minutest information of every living creature that
+has walked there within many hours. His nose even tells which way it
+ran, and in a word renders a statement of every animal that recently
+crossed his trail, whence it came, and whither it went.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+That power had Duskymane in the highest degree; his broad, moist nose
+was evidence of it to all who are judges of such things. Added to this,
+his frame was of unusual power and endurance, and last, he had early
+learned a deep distrust of everything strange, and, call it what we
+will, shyness, wariness or suspicion, it was worth more to him than all
+his cleverness. It was this as much as his physical powers that made a
+success of his life. Might is right in wolf-land, and Duskymane and his
+mother had been driven out of Sentinel Butte. But it was a very
+delectable land and he kept drifting back to his native mountain. One
+or two big Wolves there resented his coming. They drove him off several
+times, yet each time he returned he was better able to face them; and
+before he was eighteen months old he had defeated all rivals and
+established himself again on his native ground; where he lived like a
+robber baron, levying tribute on the rich lands about him and finding
+safety in the rocky fastness.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Wolver Ryder often hunted in that country, and before long, he came
+across a five-and-one-half-inch track, the foot-print of a giant Wolf.
+Roughly reckoned, twenty to twenty-five pounds of weight or six inches
+of stature is a fair allowance for each inch of a Wolf's foot; this
+Wolf therefore stood thirty-three inches at the shoulder and weighed
+about one hundred and forty pounds, by far the largest Wolf he had ever
+met. King had lived in Goat country, and now in Goat language he
+exclaimed: "You bet, ain't that an old Billy?" Thus by trivial chance
+it was that Duskymane was known to his foe, as 'Badlands Billy.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Ryder was familiar with the muster-call of the Wolves, the long, smooth
+cry, but Billy's had a singular feature, a slurring that was always
+distinctive. Ryder had heard this before, in the Cottonwood Cańon, and
+when at length he got a sight of the big Wolf with the black mane, it
+struck him that this was also the Cub of the old Yellow fury that he
+had trapped.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+These were among the things he told me as we sat by the fire at night.
+I knew of the early days when any one could trap or poison Wolves, of
+the passing of those days, with the passing of the simple Wolves; of
+the new race of Wolves with new cunning that were defying the methods
+of the ranchmen, and increasing steadily in numbers. Now the wolver
+told me of the various ventures that Penroof had made with different
+kinds of Hounds; of Foxhounds too thin-skinned to fight; of Greyhounds
+that were useless when the animal was out of sight; of Danes too heavy
+for the rough country, and, last, of the composite pack with some of
+all kinds, including at times a Bull-terrier to lead them in the final
+fight.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He told of hunts after Coyotes, which usually were successful because
+the Coyotes sought the plains, and were easily caught by the
+Greyhounds. He told of killing some small Gray-wolves with this very
+pack, usually at the cost of the one that led them; but above all he
+dwelt on the wonderful prowess of "that thar cussed old Black Wolf of
+Sentinel Butte," and related the many attempts to run him down or
+corner him&mdash;an unbroken array of failures. For the big Wolf, with
+exasperating persistence, continued to live on the finest stock of the
+Penroof brand, and each year was teaching more Wolves how to do the
+same with perfect impunity.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I listened even as gold-hunters listen to stories of treasure trove,
+for these were the things of my world. These things indeed were
+uppermost in all our minds, for the Penroof pack was lying around our
+camp-fire now. We were out after Badlands Billy.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+VIII
+</H3>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE VOICE IN THE NIGHT AND THE BIG TRACK IN THE MORNING
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+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&mdash;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."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+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&mdash;it seemed the less serious wound,
+and yet next morning the hunters buried that second Dog.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+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.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+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."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Young Penroof, as though in answer to one of the unput questions, said:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Say, boys, I believe old Billy had a hull bunch of Wolves with him
+last night."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Didn't see but one track," said King gruffly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+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.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+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&mdash;eight beauties&mdash;and raised the working pack to fifteen.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+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,&mdash;escape for him was
+impossible.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+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.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"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."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+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.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+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."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+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!
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+IX
+</H3>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+RUN DOWN AT LAST
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+It was the roughest of all rough riding. It was a far longer hunt than
+we had expected, and was full of little incidents, for that endless
+line of marks was a minute history of all that the big Wolf had done
+the night before. Here he had circled at the telephone box and looked
+for news; there he had paused to examine an old skull; here he had
+shied off and swung cautiously up wind to examine something that proved
+to be an old tin can; there at length he had mounted a low hill and sat
+down, probably giving the muster-howl, for two Wolves had come to him
+from different directions, and they then had descended to the river
+flat where the Cattle would seek shelter during the storm. Here all
+three had visited a Buffalo skull; there they trotted in line; and
+yonder they separated, going three different ways, to
+meet&mdash;yes&mdash;here&mdash;oh, what a sight, a fine Cow ripped open, left dead
+and uneaten. Not to their taste, it seems, for see! within a mile is
+another killed by them. Not six hours ago, they had feasted. Here their
+trails scatter again, but not far, and the snow tells plainly how each
+had lain down to sleep. The Hounds' manes bristled as they sniffed
+those places. King had held the Dogs well in hand, but now they were
+greatly excited. We came to a hill whereon the Wolves had turned and
+faced our way, then fled at full speed,&mdash;so said the trail,&mdash;and now it
+was clear that they had watched us from that hill, and were not far
+away.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The pack kept well together, because the Greyhounds, seeing no quarry,
+were merely puttering about among the other Dogs, or running back with
+the Horses. We went as fast as we could, for the Wolves were speeding.
+Up mesas and down coulees we rode, sticking closely to the Dogs, though
+it was the roughest country that could be picked. One gully after
+another, an hour and another hour, and still the threefold track went
+bounding on; another hour and no change, but interminable climbing,
+sliding, struggling, through brush and over boulders, guided by the
+far-away yelping of the Dogs.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Now the chase led downward to the low valley of the river, where there
+was scarcely any snow. Jumping and scrambling down hills, recklessly
+leaping dangerous gullies and slippery rocks, we felt that we could not
+hold out much longer; when on the lowest, dryest level the pack split,
+some went up, some went down, and others straight on. Oh, how King did
+swear! He knew at once what it meant. The Wolves had scattered, and so
+had divided the pack. Three Dogs after a Wolf would have no chance,
+four could not kill him, two would certainly be killed. And yet this
+was the first encouraging sign we had seen, for it meant that the
+Wolves were hard pressed. We spurred ahead to stop the Dogs, to pick
+for them the only trail. But that was not so easy. Without snow here
+and with countless Dog tracks, we were foiled. All we could do was to
+let the Dogs choose, but keep them to a single choice. Away we went as
+before, hoping, yet fearing that we were not on the right track. The
+Dogs ran well, very fast indeed. This was a bad sign, King said, but we
+could not get sight of the track because the Dogs overran it before we
+came.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+After a two-mile run the chase led upward again in snow country; the
+Wolf was sighted, but to our disgust, we were on the track of the
+smallest one.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I thought so," growled young Penroof. "Dogs was altogether too keen
+for a serious proposition. Kind o' surprised it ain't turned out a
+Jack-rabbit."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Within another mile he had turned to bay in a willow thicket. We heard
+him howl the long-drawn howl for help, and before we could reach the
+place King saw the Dogs recoil and scatter. A minute later there sped
+from the far side of the thicket a small Gray-wolf and a Black One of
+very much greater size.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"By golly, if he didn't yell for help, and Billy come back to help him;
+that's great!" exclaimed the wolver. And my heart went out to the brave
+old Wolf that refused to escape by abandoning his friend.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The next hour was a hard repetition of the gully riding, but it was on
+the highlands where there was snow, and when again the pack was split,
+we strained every power and succeeded in keeping them on the big
+"five-fifty track," that already was wearing for me the glamour of
+romance.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Evidently the Dogs preferred either of the others, but we got them
+going at last. Another half hour's hard work and far ahead, as I rose
+to a broad flat plain, I had my first glimpse of the Big Black Wolf of
+Sentinel Butte.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Hurrah! Badlands Billy! Hurrah! Badlands Billy!" I shouted in salute,
+and the others took up the cry.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+We were on his track at last, thanks to himself. The Dogs joined in
+with a louder baying, the Greyhounds yelped and made straight for him,
+and the Horses sniffed and sprang more gamely as they caught the
+thrill. The only silent one was the black-maned Wolf, and as I marked
+his size and power, and above all his long and massive jaws, I knew why
+the Dogs preferred some other trail.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+With head and tail low he was bounding over the snow. His tongue was
+lolling long; plainly he was hard pressed. The wolvers' hands flew to
+their revolvers, though he was three hundred yards ahead; they were out
+for blood, not sport. But an instant later he had sunk from view in the
+nearest sheltered cańon.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Now which way would he go, up or down the cańon? Up was toward his
+mountain, down was better cover. King and I thought "up," so pressed
+westward along the ridge. But the others rode eastward, watching for a
+chance to shoot.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Soon we had ridden out of hearing. We were wrong&mdash;the Wolf had gone
+down, but we heard no shooting. The cańon was crossable here; we
+reached the other side and then turned back at a gallop, scanning the
+snow for a trail, the hills for a moving form, or the wind for a sound
+of life.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Squeak, squeak," went our saddle leathers, "puff-puff" our Horses, and
+their feet "ka-ka-lump, ka-ka-lump."
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+X
+</H3>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+WHEN BILLY WENT BACK TO HIS MOUNTAIN
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+We were back opposite to where the Wolf had plunged, but saw no sign.
+We rode at an easy gallop, on eastward, a mile, and still on, when King
+gasped out, "Look at that!" A dark spot was moving on the snow ahead.
+We put on speed. Another dark spot appeared, and another, but they were
+not going fast. In five minutes we were near them, to find&mdash;three of
+our own Greyhounds. They had lost sight of the game, and with that
+their interest waned. Now they were seeking us. We saw nothing there of
+the chase or of the other hunters. But hastening to the next ridge we
+stumbled on the trail we sought and followed as hard as though in view.
+Another cańon came in our path, and as we rode and looked for a place
+to cross, a wild din of Hounds came from its brushy depth. The clamor
+grew and passed up the middle.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+We raced along the rim, hoping to see the game. The Dogs appeared near
+the farther side, not in a pack, but a long, straggling line. In five
+minutes more they rose to the edge, and ahead of 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 cańon and up the other side at
+impetuous speed that would surely break them down, while we rode,
+vainly seeking means of crossing.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+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 cańon dwindled&mdash;rough 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.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+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 bay&mdash;they 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
+cańon. The foremost Dogs were closing, fearless of a foe so nearly
+spent.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+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, and&mdash;now all you who love the Dogs had better close
+the book&mdash;on&mdash;up and down&mdash;fifteen 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 Tige&mdash;but 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 on&mdash;down-to their death.
+Slash, chop and heave, from the swiftest to the biggest, to the last,
+down&mdash;down&mdash;he sent them whirling from the ledge to the gaping gulch
+below, where rocks and snags of trunks were sharp to do their work.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In fifty seconds it was done. The rock had splashed the stream
+aside&mdash;the Penroof pack was all wiped out; and Badlands Billy stood
+there, alone again on his mountain.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+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
+cańon of Sentinel Butte.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+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 nothing&mdash;we could say nothing.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+XI
+</H3>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE HOWL AT SUNSET
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+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."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+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.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And King as he touched his Horse said grimly: "That's him, he is out
+with the pack, an' thar goes another Beef."
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="lynx"></A>
+<H2 ALIGN="center">
+THE BOY AND THE LYNX
+</H2>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+I
+</H3>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE BOY
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+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.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Hello, Corney! you got my bird!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Your burrud! Sure yours flew away thayre. I saw them settle hayer and
+thought I'd make sure of wan with the rifle."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+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.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+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.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+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&mdash;four miles across the water.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+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.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+II
+</H3>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE LYNX
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+A huge four-foot basswood had gone the way of all trees. Death had been
+generous&mdash;had 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.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+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.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The little ones&mdash;half starved before they came&mdash;were a double drain,
+for they took the time she might have spent in hunting.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Northern Hare is the favorite food of the Lynx, and in some years
+she could have killed fifty in one day, but never one did she see this
+season. The plague had done its work too well.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+One day she caught a Red-squirrel which had run into a hollow log that
+proved a trap. Another day a fetid Blacksnake was her only food. A day
+was missed, and the little ones whined piteously for their natural food
+and failing drink. One day she saw a large black animal of unpleasant
+but familiar smell. Swiftly and silently she sprang to make attack. She
+struck it once on the nose, but the Porcupine doubled his head under,
+his tail flew up, and the mother Lynx was speared in a dozen places
+with the little stinging javelins. She drew them all with her teeth,
+for she had "learned Porcupine" years before, and only the hard push of
+want would have made her strike one now.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+A Frog was all she caught that day. On the next, as she ranged the
+farthest woods in a long, hard hunt, she heard a singular calling
+voice. It was new to her. She approached it cautiously, up wind, got
+many new odors and some more strange sounds in coming. The loud, clear,
+rolling call was repeated as the mother Lynx came to an opening in the
+forest. In the middle of it were two enormous muskrat or beaver-houses,
+far bigger than the biggest she ever before had seen. They were made
+partly of logs and situated, not in a pond, but on a dry knoll. Walking
+about them were a number of Partridges, that is, birds like Partridges,
+only larger and of various colors, red, yellow, and white.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She quivered with the excitement that in a man would have been called
+buck-fever. Food&mdash;food&mdash;abundance of food, and the old huntress sank to
+earth. Her breast was on the ground, her elbows above her back, as she
+made stalk, her shrewdest, subtlest stalk; one of those Partridges she
+must have at any price; no trick now must go untried, no error in this
+hunt; if it took hours&mdash;all day&mdash;she must approach with certainty to
+win before the quarry took to flight.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Only a few bounds it was from wood shelter to the great rat-house, but
+she was an hour in crawling that small space. From stump to brush, from
+log to bunch of grass she sneaked, a flattened form, and the Partridges
+saw her not. They fed about, the biggest uttering the ringing call that
+first had fallen on her ear.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Once they seemed to sense their peril, but a long await dispelled the
+fear. Now they were almost in reach, and she trembled with all the
+eagerness of the hunting heart and the hungry maw. Her eye centred on a
+white one not quite the nearest, but the color seemed to hold her gaze.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There was an open space around the rat-house; outside that were tall
+weeds, and stumps were scattered everywhere. The white bird wandered
+behind these weeds, the red one of the loud voice flew to the top of
+the rat-mound and sang as before. The mother Lynx sank lower yet. It
+seemed an alarm note; but no, the white one still was there; she could
+see its feathers gleaming through the weeds. An open space now lay
+about. The huntress, flattened like an empty skin, trailed slow and
+silent on the ground behind a log no thicker than her neck; if she
+could reach that tuft of brush she could get unseen to the weeds and
+then would be near enough to spring. She could smell them now&mdash;the rich
+and potent smell of life, of flesh and blood, that set her limbs
+a-tingle and her eyes a-glow.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Partridges still scratched and fed; another flew to the high top,
+but the white one remained. Five more slow-gliding, silent steps, and
+the Lynx was behind the weeds, the white bird shining through; she
+gauged the distance, tried the footing, swung her hind legs to clear
+some fallen brush, then leaped direct with all her force, and the white
+one never knew the death it died, for the fateful gray shadow dropped,
+the swift and deadly did their work, and before the other birds could
+realize the foe or fly, the Lynx was gone, with the white bird
+squirming in her jaws.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Uttering an unnecessary growl of inborn ferocity and joy she bounded
+into the forest, and bee-like sped for home. The last quiver had gone
+from the warm body of the victim when she heard the sound of heavy feet
+ahead. She leaped on a log. The wings of her prey were muffling her
+eyes, so she laid the bird down and held it safely with one paw. The
+sound drew nearer, the bushes bent, and a Boy stepped into view. The
+old Lynx knew and hated his kind. She had watched them at night, had
+followed them, had been hunted and hurt by them. For a moment they
+stood face to face. The huntress growled a warning that was also a
+challenge and a defiance, picked up the bird and bounded from the log
+into the sheltering bushes. It was a mile or two to the den, but she
+stayed not to eat till the sunlit opening and the big basswood came to
+view; then a low "prr-prr" called forth the little ones to revel with
+their mother in a plenteous meal of the choicest food.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+III
+</H3>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE HOME OF THE LYNX
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+At first Thor, being town-bred, was timid about venturing into the
+woods beyond the sound of Corney's axe; but day by day he went farther,
+guiding himself, not by unreliable moss on trees, but by sun, compass,
+and landscape features. His purpose was to learn about the wild animals
+rather than to kill them; but the naturalist is close kin to the
+sportsman, and the gun was his constant companion. In the clearing, the
+only animal of any size was a fat Woodchuck; it had a hole under a
+stump some hundred yards from the shanty. On sunny mornings it used to
+lie basking on the stump, but eternal vigilance is the price of every
+good thing in the woods. The Woodchuck was always alert and Thor tried
+in vain to shoot or even to trap him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Hyar," said Corney one morning, "time we had some fresh meat." He took
+down his rifle, an old-fashioned brass-mounted small-bore, and loading
+with care that showed the true rifleman, he steadied the weapon against
+the door-jamb and fired. The Woodchuck fell backward and lay still.
+Thor raced to the place and returned in triumph with the animal,
+shouting: "Plumb through the head&mdash;one hundred and twenty yards."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Corney controlled the gratified smile that wrestled with the corners of
+his mouth, but his bright eyes shone a trifle brighter for the moment.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was no mere killing for killing's sake, for the Woodchuck was
+spreading a belt of destruction in the crop around his den. Its flesh
+supplied the family with more than one good meal and Corney showed Thor
+how to use the skin. First the pelt was wrapped in hardwood ashes for
+twenty-four hours. This brought the hair off. Then the skin was soaked
+for three days in soft soap and worked by hand, as it dried, till it
+came out a white strong leather.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Thor's wanderings extended farther in search of the things which always
+came as surprises however much he was looking for them. Many days were
+blanks and others would be crowded with incidents, for unexpectedness
+is above all the peculiar feature of hunting, and its lasting charm.
+One day he had gone far beyond the ridge in a new direction and passed
+through an open glade where lay the broken trunk of a huge basswood.
+The size impressed it on his memory. He swung past the glade to make
+for the lake, a mile to the west, and twenty minutes later he started
+back as his eye rested on a huge black animal in the crotch of a
+hemlock, some thirty feet from the ground. A Bear! At last, this was
+the test of nerve he had half expected all summer; had been wondering
+how that mystery "himself" would act under this very trial. He stood
+still; his right hand dived into his pocket and, bringing out three or
+four buckshot, which he carried for emergency, he dropped them on top
+of the birdshot already in the gun, then rammed a wad to hold them down.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Bear had not moved and the boy could not see its head, but now he
+studied it carefully. It was not such a large one&mdash;no, it was a small
+one, yes, very small&mdash;a cub. A cub! That meant a mother Bear at hand,
+and Thor looked about with some fear, but seeing no signs of any except
+the little one, he levelled the gun and fired.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then to his surprise down crashed the animal quite dead; it was not a
+Bear, but a large Porcupine. As it lay there he examined it with wonder
+and regret, for he had no wish to kill such a harmless creature. On its
+grotesque face he found two or three long scratches which proved that
+he had not been its only enemy. As he turned away he noticed some blood
+on his trousers, then saw that his left hand was bleeding. He had
+wounded himself quite severely on the quills of the animal without
+knowing it. He was sorry to leave the specimen there, and Loo, when she
+learned of it, said it was a shame not to skin it when she "needed a
+fur-lined cape for the winter."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+On another day Thor had gone without a gun, as he meant only to gather
+some curious plants he had seen. They were close to the clearing; he
+knew the place by a fallen elm. As he came to it he heard a peculiar
+sound. Then on the log his eye caught two moving things. He lifted a
+bough and got a clear view. They were the head and tail of an enormous
+Lynx. It had seen him and was glaring and grumbling; and under its foot
+on the log was a white bird that a second glance showed to be one of
+their own precious hens. How fierce and cruel the brute looked! How
+Thor hated it! and fairly gnashed his teeth with disgust that now, when
+his greatest chance was come, he for once was without his gun. He was
+in not a little fear, too, and stood wondering what to do. The Lynx
+growled louder; its stumpy tail twitched viciously for a minute, then
+it picked up its victim, and leaping from the log was lost to view.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+As it was a very rainy summer, the ground was soft everywhere, and the
+young hunter was led to follow tracks that would have defied an expert
+in dryer times. One day he came on piglike footprints in the woods. He
+followed them with little difficulty, for they were new, and a heavy
+rain two hours before had washed out all other trails. After about half
+a mile they led him to an open ravine, and as he reached its brow he
+saw across it a flash of white; then his keen young eyes made out the
+forms of a Deer and a spotted Fawn gazing at him curiously. Though on
+their trail he was not a little startled. He gazed at them
+open-mouthed. The mother turned and raised the danger flag, her white
+tail, and bounded lightly away, to be followed by the youngster,
+clearing low trunks with an effortless leap, or bending down with
+catlike suppleness when they came to a log upraised so that they might
+pass below.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He never again got a chance to shoot at them, though more than once he
+saw the same two tracks, or believed they were the same, as for some
+cause never yet explained, Deer were scarcer in that unbroken forest
+than they were in later years when clearings spread around.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He never again saw them; but he saw the mother once&mdash;he thought it was
+the same&mdash;she was searching the woods with her nose, trying the ground
+for trails; she was nervous and anxious, evidently seeking. Thor
+remembered a trick that Corney had told him. He gently stooped, took up
+a broad blade of grass, laid it between the edges of his thumbs, then
+blowing through this simple squeaker he made a short, shrill bleat, a
+fair imitation of a Fawn's cry for the mother, and the Deer, though a
+long way off, came bounding toward him. He snatched his gun, meaning to
+kill her, but the movement caught her eye. She stopped. Her mane
+bristled a little; she sniffed and looked inquiringly at him. Her big
+soft eyes touched his heart, held back his hand; she took a cautious
+step nearer, got a full whiff of her mortal enemy, bounded behind a big
+tree and away before his merciful impulse was gone. "Poor thing," said
+Thor, "I believe she has lost her little one."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Yet once more the Boy met a Lynx in the woods. Half an hour after
+seeing the lonely Deer he crossed the long ridge that lay some miles
+north of the shanty. He had passed the glade where the great basswood
+lay when a creature like a big bob-tailed Kitten appeared and looked
+innocently at him. His gun went up, as usual, but the Kitten merely
+cocked its head on one side and fearlessly surveyed him. Then a second
+one that he had not noticed before began to play with the first, pawing
+at its tail and inviting its brother to tussle.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Thor's first thought to shoot was stayed as he watched their gambols,
+but the remembrance of his feud with their race came back. He had
+almost raised the gun when a fierce rumble close at hand gave him a
+start, and there, not ten feet from him, stood the old one, looking big
+and fierce as a Tigress. It was surely folly to shoot at the young ones
+now. The boy nervously dropped some buckshot on the charge while the
+snarling growl rose and fell, but before he was ready to shoot at her
+the old one had picked up something that was by her feet; the boy got a
+glimpse of rich brown with white spots&mdash;the limp form of a newly killed
+Fawn. Then she passed out of sight. The Kittens followed, and he saw
+her no more until the time when, life against life, they were weighed
+in the balance together.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+IV
+</H3>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE TERROR OF THE WOODS
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+Six weeks had passed in daily routine when one day the young giant
+seemed unusually quiet as he went about. His handsome face was very
+sober and he sang not at all that morning.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He and Thor slept on a hay-bunk in one corner of the main room, and
+that night the Boy awakened more than once to hear his companion
+groaning and tossing in his sleep. Corney arose as usual in the morning
+and fed the horses, but lay down again while the sisters got breakfast.
+He roused himself by an effort and went back to work, but came home
+early. He was trembling from head to foot. It was hot summer weather,
+but he could not be kept warm. After several hours a reaction set in
+and Corney was in a high fever. The family knew well now that he had
+the dreaded chills and fever of the backwoods. Margat went out and
+gathered a lapful of pipsissewa to make tea, of which Corney was
+encouraged to drink copiously.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But in spite of all their herbs and nursing the young man got worse. At
+the end of ten days he was greatly reduced in flesh and incapable of
+work, so on one of the "well days" that are usual in the course of the
+disease he said:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Say, gurruls, I can't stand it no longer. Guess I better go home. I'm
+well enough to drive to-day, for a while anyway; if I'm took down I'll
+lay in the wagon, and the horses will fetch me home. Mother'll have me
+all right in a week or so. If you run out of grub before I come back
+take the canoe to Ellerton's."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+So the girls harnessed the horses; the wagon was partly filled with
+hay, and Corney, weak and white-faced, drove away on the long rough
+road, and left them feeling much as though they were on a desert island
+and their only boat had been taken from them.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Half a week had scarcely gone before all three of them, Margat, Loo,
+and Thor, were taken down with a yet more virulent form of chills and
+fever.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Corney had had every other a "well day," but with these three there
+were no "well days" and the house became an abode of misery.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Seven days passed, and now Margat could not leave her bed and Loo was
+barely able to walk around the house. She was a brave girl with a fund
+of drollery which did much toward keeping up all their spirits, but her
+merriest jokes fell ghastly from her wan, pinched face. Thor, though
+weak and ill, was the strongest and did for the others, cooking and
+serving each day a simple meal, for they could eat very little,
+fortunately, perhaps, as there was very little, and Corney could not
+return for another week.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Soon Thor was the only one able to rise, and one morning when he
+dragged himself to cut the little usual slice of their treasured bacon
+he found, to his horror, that the whole piece was gone. It had been
+stolen, doubtless by some wild animal, from the little box on the shady
+side of the house, where it was kept safe from flies. Now they were
+down to flour and tea. He was in despair, when his eye lighted on the
+Chickens about the stable; but what's the use? In his feeble state he
+might as well try to catch a Deer or a Hawk. Suddenly he remembered his
+gun and very soon was preparing a fat Hen for the pot. He boiled it
+whole as the easiest way to cook it, and the broth was the first really
+tempting food they had had for some time.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They kept alive for three wretched days on that Chicken, and when it
+was finished Thor again took down his gun&mdash;it seemed a much heavier gun
+now. He crawled to the barn, but he was so weak and shaky that he
+missed several times before he brought down a fowl. Corney had taken
+the rifle away with him and three charges of gun ammunition were all
+that now remained.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Thor was surprised to see how few Hens there were now, only three or
+four. There used to be over a dozen. Three days later he made another
+raid. He saw but one Hen and he used up his last ammunition to get that.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+His daily routine now was a monotony of horror. In the morning, which
+was his "well time," he prepared a little food for the household and
+got ready for the night of raging fever by putting a bucket of water on
+a block at the head of each bunk. About one o'clock, with fearful
+regularity, the chills would come on, with trembling from head to foot
+and chattering teeth, and cold, cold, within and without. Nothing
+seemed to give any warmth&mdash;fire seemed to have lost its power. There
+was nothing to do but to lie and shake and suffer all the slow torture
+of freezing to death and shaking to pieces. For six hours it would keep
+up, and to the torture, nausea lent its horrid aid throughout; then
+about seven or eight o'clock in the evening a change would come; a
+burning fever set in; no ice could have seemed cool to him then;
+water&mdash;water&mdash;was all he craved, and drank and drank until three or
+four in the morning, when the fever would abate, and a sleep of total
+exhaustion followed.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"If you run out of food take the canoe to Ellerton's," was the
+brother's last word. Who was to take the canoe?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There was but half a Chicken now between them and starvation, and no
+sign of Corney.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+For three interminable weeks the deadly program dragged along. It went
+on the same yet worse, as the sufferers grew weaker&mdash;a few days more
+and the Boy also would be unable to leave his couch. Then what?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Despair was on the house and the silent cry of each was, "Oh, God! will
+Corney never come?"
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+V
+</H3>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE HOME OF THE BOY
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+On the day of that last Chicken, Thor was all morning carrying water
+enough for the coming three fevers. The chill attacked him sooner than
+it was due and his fever was worse than ever before.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He drank deeply and often from the bucket at his head. He had filled
+it, and it was nearly emptied when about two in the morning the fever
+left him and he fell asleep.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In the gray dawn he was awakened by a curious sound not far away&mdash;a
+splashing of water. He turned his head to see two glaring eyes within a
+foot of his face&mdash;a great Beast lapping the water in the bucket by his
+bed.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Thor gazed in horror for a moment, then closed his eyes, sure that he
+was dreaming, certain that this was a nightmare of India with a Tiger
+by his couch; but the lapping continued. He looked up; yes, it still
+was there. He tried to find his voice but uttered only a gurgle. The
+great furry head quivered, a sniff came from below the shining
+eyeballs, and the creature, whatever it was, dropped to its front feet
+and went across the hut under the table. Thor was fully awake now; he
+rose slowly on his elbow and feebly shouted "Sssh-hi," at which the
+shining eyes reappeared under the table and the gray form came forth.
+Calmly it walked across the ground and glided under the lowest log at a
+place where an old potato pit left an opening and disappeared. What was
+it? The sick boy hardly knew&mdash;some savage Beast of prey, undoubtedly.
+He was totally unnerved. He shook with fear and a sense of
+helplessness, and the night passed in fitful sleep and sudden starts
+awake to search the gloom again for those fearful eyes and the great
+gray gliding form. In the morning he did not know whether it were not
+all a delirium, yet he made a feeble effort to close the old cellar
+hole with some firewood.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The three had little appetite, but even that they restrained since now
+they were down to part of a Chicken, and Corney, evidently he supposed
+they had been to Ellerton's and got all the food they needed.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Again that night, when the fever left him weak and dozing, Thor was
+awakened by a noise in the room, a sound of crunching bones. He looked
+around to see dimly outlined against the little window, the form of a
+large animal on the table. Thor shouted; he tried to hurl his boot at
+the intruder. It leaped lightly to the ground and passed out of the
+hole, again wide open.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was no dream this time, he knew, and the women knew it, too; not
+only had they heard the creature, but the Chicken, the last of their
+food, was wholly gone.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Poor Thor barely left his couch that day. It needed all the querulous
+complaints of the sick women to drive him forth. Down by the spring he
+found a few berries and divided them with the others. He made his usual
+preparations for the chills and the thirst, but he added this&mdash;by the
+side of his couch he put an old fish-spear&mdash;the only weapon he could
+find, now the gun was useless&mdash;a pine-root candle and some matches. He
+knew the Beast was coming back again&mdash;was coming hungry. It would find
+no food; what more natural, he thought, than take the living prey lying
+there so helpless? And a vision came of the limp brown form of the
+little Fawn, borne off in those same cruel jaws.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Once again he barricaded the hole with firewood, and the night passed
+as usual, but without any fierce visitor. Their food that day was flour
+and water, and to cook it Thor was forced to use some of his barricade.
+Loo attempted some feeble joke, guessed she was light enough to fly now
+and tried to rise, but she got no farther than the edge of the bunk.
+The same preparations were made, and the night wore on, but early in
+the morning, Thor was again awakened rudely by the sound of lapping
+water by his bed, and there, as before, were the glowing eyeballs, the
+great head, the gray form relieved by the dim light from the dawning
+window.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Thor put all his strength into what was meant for a bold shout, but it
+was merely a feeble screech. He rose slowly and called out: "Loo,
+Margat! The Lynx&mdash;here's the Lynx again!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"May God help ye, for we can't," was the answer.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Sssh-hi!" Thor tried again to drive the Beast away. It leaped on to
+the table by the window and stood up growling under the useless gun.
+Thor thought it was going to leap through the glass as it faced the
+window a moment; but it turned and glared toward the Boy, for he could
+see both eyes shining. He rose slowly to the side of his bunk and he
+prayed for help, for he felt it was kill or be killed. He struck a
+match and lighted his pine-root candle, held that in his left hand and
+in his right took the old fish-spear, meaning to fight, but he was so
+weak he had to use the fish-spear as a crutch. The great Beast stood on
+the table still, but was crouching a little as though for a spring. Its
+eyes glowed red in the torchlight. Its short tail was switching from
+side to side and its growling took a higher pitch. Thor's knees were
+smiting together, but he levelled the spear and made a feeble lunge
+toward the brute. It sprang at the same moment, not at him, as he first
+thought&mdash;the torch and the boy's bold front had had effect&mdash;it went
+over his head to drop on the ground beyond and at once to slink under
+the bunk.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+This was only a temporary repulse. Thor set the torch on a ledge of the
+logs, then took the spear in both hands. He was fighting for his life,
+and he knew it. He heard the voices of the women feebly praying. He saw
+only the glowing eyes under the bed and heard the growling in higher
+pitch as the Beast was nearing action. He steadied himself by a great
+effort and plunged the spear with all the force he could give it.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It struck something softer than the logs: a hideous snarl came forth.
+The boy threw all his weight on the weapon; the Beast was struggling to
+get at him; he felt its teeth and claws grating on the handle, and in
+spite of himself it was coming on; its powerful arms and claws were
+reaching for him now; he could not hold out long. He put on all his
+force, just a little more it was than before; the Beast lurched, there
+was a growling, a crack, and a sudden yielding; the rotten old
+spear-head had broken off, the Beast sprang out&mdash;at him&mdash;past
+him&mdash;never touched him, but across through the hole and away, to be
+seen no more.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Thor fell on the bed and lost all consciousness.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He lay there he knew not how long, but was awakened in broad daylight
+by a loud, cheery voice:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Hello! Hello!&mdash;are ye all dead? Loo! Thor! Margat!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He had no strength to answer, but there was a trampling of horses
+outside, a heavy step, the door was forced open, and in strode Corney,
+handsome and hearty as ever. But what a flash of horror and pain came
+over his face on entering the silent shanty!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Dead?" he gasped. "Who's dead&mdash;where are you? Thor?" Then, "Who is it?
+Loo? Margat?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Corney&mdash;Corney," came feebly from the bunk. "They're in there. They're
+awful sick. We have nothing to eat."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, what a fool I be!" said Corney again and again. "I made sure ye'd
+go to Ellerton's and get all ye wanted."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"We had no chance, Corney; we were all three brought down at once,
+right after you left. Then the Lynx came and cleared up the Hens, and
+all in the house, too."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, ye got even with her," and Corney pointed to the trail of blood
+across the mud floor and out under the logs.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Good food, nursing, and medicine restored them all.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+A month or two later, when the women wanted a new leaching-barrel, Thor
+said: "I know where there is a hollow basswood as big as a hogshead."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He and Corney went to the place, and when they cut off what they
+needed, they found in the far end of it the dried-up bodies of two
+little Lynxes with that of the mother, and in the side of the old one
+was the head of a fish-spear broken from the handle.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="warhorse"></A>
+<H2 ALIGN="center">
+LITTLE WARHORSE
+</H2>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+The History of a Jack-rabbit
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+The Little Warhorse knew practically all the Dogs in town. First, there
+was a very large brown Dog that had pursued him many times, a Dog that
+he always got rid of by slipping through a hole in a board fence.
+Second, there was a small active Dog that could follow through that
+hole, and him he baffled by leaping a twenty-foot irrigation ditch that
+had steep sides and a swift current. The Dog could not make this leap.
+It was "sure medicine" for that foe, and the boys still call the place
+"Old Jacky's Jump." But there was a Greyhound that could leap better
+than the Jack, and when he could not follow through a fence, he jumped
+over it. He tried the Warhorse's mettle more than once, and Jacky only
+saved himself by his quick dodging, till they got to an Osage hedge,
+and here the Greyhound had to give it up. Besides these, there was in
+town a rabble of big and little Dogs that were troublesome, but easily
+left behind in the open.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In the country there was a Dog at each farm-house, but only one that
+the Warhorse really feared; that was a long-legged, fierce, black Dog,
+a brute so swift and pertinacious that he had several times forced the
+Warhorse almost to the last extremity.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+For the town Cats he cared little; only once or twice had he been
+threatened by them. A huge Tom-cat flushed with many victories came
+crawling up to where he fed one moonlight night. Jack Warhorse saw the
+black creature with the glowing eyes, and a moment before the final
+rush, he faced it, raised up on his haunches,&mdash;his hind legs,&mdash;at full
+length on his toes,&mdash;with his broad ears towering up yet six inches
+higher; then letting out a loud churrr-churrr, his best attempt at a
+roar, he sprang five feet forward and landed on the Cat's head, driving
+in his sharp hind nails, and the old Tom fled in terror from the weird
+two-legged giant. This trick he had tried several times with success,
+but twice it turned out a sad failure: once, when the Cat proved to be
+a mother whose Kittens were near; then Jack Warhorse had to flee for
+his life; and the other time was when he made the mistake of landing
+hard on a Skunk.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But the Greyhound was the dangerous enemy, and in him the Warhorse
+might have found his fate, but for a curious adventure with a happy
+ending for Jack.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He fed by night; there were fewer enemies about then, and it was easier
+to hide; but one day at dawn in winter he had lingered long at an
+alfalfa stack and was crossing the open snow toward his favorite form,
+when, as ill-luck would have it, he met the Greyhound prowling outside
+the town. With open snow and growing daylight there was no chance to
+hide, nothing but a run in the open with soft snow that hindered the
+Jack more than it did the Hound.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Off they went&mdash;superb runners in fine fettle. How they skimmed across
+the snow, raising it in little puff-puff-puffs, each time their nimble
+feet went down. This way and that, swerving and dodging, went the
+chase. Everything favored the Dog,&mdash;his empty stomach, the cold
+weather, the soft snow,&mdash;while the Rabbit was handicapped by his heavy
+meal of alfalfa. But his feet went puff&mdash;puff so fast that a dozen of
+the little snow-jets were in view at once. The chase continued in the
+open; no friendly hedge was near, and every attempt to reach a fence
+was cleverly stopped by the Hound. Jack's ears were losing their bold
+up-cock, a sure sign of failing heart or wind, when all at once these
+flags went stiffly up, as under sudden renewal of strength. The
+Warhorse put forth all his power, not to reach the hedge to the north,
+but over the open prairie eastward. The Greyhound followed, and within
+fifty yards the Jack dodged to foil his fierce pursuer; but on the next
+tack he was on his eastern course again, and so tacking and dodging, he
+kept the line direct for the next farm-house, where was a very high
+board fence with a hen-hole, and where also there dwelt his other hated
+enemy, the big black Dog. An outer hedge delayed the Greyhound for a
+moment and gave Jack time to dash through the hen-hole into the yard,
+where he hid to one side. The Greyhound rushed around to the low gate,
+leaped over that among the Hens, and as they fled cackling and
+fluttering, some Lambs bleated loudly. Their natural guardian, the big
+black Dog, ran to the rescue, and Warhorse slipped out again by the
+hole at which he had entered. Horrible sounds of Dog hate and fury were
+heard behind him in the hen-yard, and soon the shouts of men were
+added. How it ended he did not know or seek to learn, but it was
+remarkable that he never afterward was troubled by the swift Greyhound
+that formerly lived in Newchusen.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+II
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+Hard times and easy times had long followed in turn and been taken as
+matters of course; but recent years in the State of Kaskado had brought
+to the Jack-rabbits a succession of remarkable ups and downs. In the
+old days they had their endless fight with Birds and Beasts of Prey,
+with cold and heat, with pestilence and with flies whose sting bred a
+loathsome disease, and yet had held their own. But the settling of the
+country by farmers made many changes.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Dogs and guns arriving in numbers reduced the ranks of Coyotes, Foxes,
+Wolves, Badgers, and Hawks that preyed on the Jack, so that in a few
+years the Rabbits were multiplied in great swarms; but now Pestilence
+broke out and swept them away. Only the strongest&mdash;the
+double-seasoned&mdash;remained. For a while a Jack-rabbit was a rarity; but
+during this time another change came in. The Osage-orange hedges
+planted everywhere afforded a new refuge, and now the safety of a
+Jack-rabbit was less often his speed than his wits, and the wise ones,
+when pursued by a Dog or Coyote, would rush to the nearest hedge
+through a small hole and escape while the enemy sought for a larger one
+by which to follow. The Coyotes rose to this and developed the trick of
+the relay chase. In this one Coyote takes one field, another the next,
+and if the Rabbit attempts the "hedge-ruse" they work from each side
+and usually win their prey. The Rabbit remedy for this, is keen eyes to
+see the second Coyote, avoidance of that field, then good legs to
+distance the first enemy.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Thus the Jack-rabbits, after being successively numerous, scarce, in
+myriads, and rare, were now again on the increase, and those which
+survived, selected by a hundred hard trials, were enabled to flourish
+where their ancestors could not have outlived a single season.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Their favorite grounds were, not the broad open stretches of the big
+ranches, but the complicated, much-fenced fields of the farms, where
+these were so small and close as to be like a big straggling village.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+One of these vegetable villages had sprung up around the railway
+station of Newchusen. The country a mile away was well supplied with
+Jack-rabbits of the new and selected stock. Among them was a little
+lady Rabbit called "Bright-eyes," from her leading characteristic as
+she sat gray in the gray brush. She was a good runner, but was
+especially successful with the fence-play that baffled the Coyotes. She
+made her nest out in an open pasture, an untouched tract of the ancient
+prairie. Here her brood were born and raised. One like herself was
+bright-eyed, in coat of silver-gray, and partly gifted with her ready
+wits, but in the other, there appeared a rare combination of his
+mother's gifts with the best that was in the best strain of the new
+Jack-rabbits of the plains.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+This was the one whose adventures we have been following, the one that
+later on the turf won the name of Little Warhorse and that afterward
+achieved a world-wide fame.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Ancient tricks of his kind he revived and put to new uses, and ancient
+enemies he learned to fight with new-found tricks.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+When a mere baby he discovered a plan that was worthy of the wisest
+Rabbit in Kaskado. He was pursued by a horrible little Yellow Dog, and
+he had tried in vain to get rid of him by dodging among the fields and
+farms. This is good play against a Coyote, because the farmers and the
+Dogs will often help the Jack, without knowing it, by attacking the
+Coyote. But now the plan did not work at all, for the little Dog
+managed to keep after him through one fence after another, and Jack
+Warhorse, not yet full-grown, much less seasoned, was beginning to feel
+the strain. His ears were no longer up straight, but angling back and
+at times drooping to a level, as he darted through a very little hole
+in an Osage hedge, only to find that his nimble enemy had done the same
+without loss of time. In the middle of the field was a small herd of
+cattle and with them a calf.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There is in wild animals a curious impulse to trust any stranger when
+in desperate straits. The foe behind they know means death. There is
+just a chance, and the only one left, that the stranger may prove
+friendly; and it was this last desperate chance that drew Jack Warhorse
+to the Cows.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It is quite sure that the Cows would have stood by in stolid
+indifference so far as the Rabbit was concerned, but they have a
+deep-rooted hatred of a dog, and when they saw the Yellow Cur coming
+bounding toward them, their tails and noses went up; they sniffed
+angrily, then closed up ranks, and led by the Cow that owned the Calf,
+they charged at the Dog, while Jack took refuge under a low thorn-bush.
+The Dog swerved aside to attack the Calf, at least the old Cow thought
+he did, and she followed him so fiercely that he barely escaped from
+that field with his life.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was a good old plan&mdash;one that doubtless came from the days when
+Buffalo and Coyote played the parts of Cow and Dog. Jack never forgot
+it, and more than once it saved his life.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In color as well as in power he was a rarity.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Animals are colored in one or other of two general plans: one that
+matches them with their surroundings and helps them to hide&mdash;this is
+called "protective"; the other that makes them very visible for several
+purposes&mdash;this is called "directive." Jack-rabbits are peculiar in
+being painted both ways. As they squat in their form in the gray brush
+or clods, they are soft gray on their ears, head, back, and sides; they
+match the ground and cannot be seen until close at hand&mdash;they are
+protectively colored. But the moment it is clear to the Jack that the
+approaching foe will find him, he jumps up and dashes away. He throws
+off all disguise now, the gray seems to disappear; he makes a lightning
+change, and his ears show snowy white with black tips, the legs are
+white, his tail is a black spot in a blaze of white. He is a
+black-and-white Rabbit now. His coloring is all directive. How is it
+done? Very simply. The front side of the ear is gray, the back, black
+and white. The black tail with its white halo, and the legs, are tucked
+below. He is sitting on them. The gray mantle is pulled down and
+enlarged as he sits, but when he jumps up it shrinks somewhat, all his
+black-and-white marks are now shown, and just as his colors formerly
+whispered, "I am a clod," they now shout aloud, "I am a Jack-rabbit."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Why should he do this? Why should a timid creature running for his life
+thus proclaim to all the world his name instead of trying to hide?
+There must be some good reason. It must pay, or the Rabbit would never
+have done it.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The answer is, if the creature that scared him up was one of his own
+kind&mdash;i.e., this was a false alarm&mdash;then at once, by showing his
+national colors, the mistake is made right. On the other hand, if it be
+a Coyote, Fox, or Dog, they see at once, this is a Jack-rabbit, and
+know that it would be waste of time for them to pursue him. They say in
+effect, "This is a Jack-rabbit, and I cannot catch a Jack in open
+race." They give it up, and that, of course, saves the Jack a great
+deal of unnecessary running and worry. The black-and-white spots are
+the national uniform and flag of the Jacks. In poor specimens they are
+apt to be dull, but in the finest specimens they are not only larger,
+but brighter than usual, and the Little Warhorse, gray when he sat in
+his form, blazed like charcoal and snow, when he flung his defiance to
+the Fox and buff Coyote, and danced with little effort before them,
+first a black-and-white Jack, then a little white spot, and last a
+speck of thistledown, before the distance swallowed him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Many of the farmers' Dogs had learned the lesson: "A grayish Rabbit you
+may catch, but a very black-and-white one is hopeless." They might,
+indeed, follow for a time, but that was merely for the fun of a chivvy,
+and his growing power often led Warhorse to seek the chase for the sake
+of a little excitement, and to take hazards that others less gifted
+were most careful to avoid.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Jack, like all other wild animals, had a certain range or country which
+was home to him, and outside of this he rarely strayed. It was about
+three miles across, extending easterly from the centre of the village.
+Scattered through this he had a number of "forms," or "beds" as they
+are locally called. These were mere hollows situated under a sheltering
+bush or bunch of grass, without lining excepting the accidental grass
+and in-blown leaves. But comfort was not forgotten. Some of them were
+for hot weather; they faced the north, were scarcely sunk, were little
+more than shady places. Some for the cold weather were deep hollows
+with southern exposure, and others for the wet were well roofed with
+herbage and faced the west. In one or other of these he spent the day,
+and at night he went forth to feed with his kind, sporting and romping
+on the moonlight nights like a lot of puppy Dogs, but careful to be
+gone by sunrise, and safely tucked in a bed that was suited to the
+weather.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The safest ground for the Jacks was among the farms, where not only
+Osage hedges, but also the newly arrived barb-wire, made hurdles and
+hazards in the path of possible enemies. But the finest of the forage
+is nearer to the village among the truck-farms&mdash;the finest of forage
+and the fiercest of dangers. Some of the dangers of the plains were
+lacking, but the greater perils of men, guns, Dogs, and impassable
+fences are much increased. Yet those who knew Warhorse best were not at
+all surprised to find that he had made a form in the middle of a
+market-gardener's melon-patch. A score of dangers beset him here, but
+there was also a score of unusual delights and a score of holes in the
+fence for times when he had to fly, with at least twoscore of
+expedients to help him afterward.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+III
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+Newchusen was a typical Western town. Everywhere in it, were to be seen
+strenuous efforts at uglification, crowned with unmeasured success. The
+streets were straight level lanes without curves or beauty-spots. The
+houses were cheap and mean structures of flimsy boards and tar paper,
+and not even honest in their ugliness, for each of them was pretending
+to be something better than itself. One had a false front to make it
+look like two stories, another was of imitation brick, a third
+pretended to be a marble temple.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But all agreed in being the ugliest things ever used as human
+dwellings, and in each could be read the owner's secret thought&mdash;to
+stand it for a year or so, then move out somewhere else. The only
+beauties of the place, and those unintentional, were the long lines of
+hand-planted shade-trees, uglified as far as possible with whitewashed
+trunks and croppy heads, but still lovable, growing, living things.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The only building in town with a touch of picturesqueness was the grain
+elevator. It was not posing as a Greek temple or a Swiss chalet, but
+simply a strong, rough, honest, grain elevator. At the end of each
+street was a vista of the prairie, with its farm-houses, windmill
+pumps, and long lines of Osage-orange hedges. Here at least was
+something of interest&mdash;the gray-green hedges, thick, sturdy, and high,
+were dotted with their golden mock-oranges, useless fruit, but more
+welcome here than rain in a desert; for these balls were things of
+beauty, and swung on their long tough boughs they formed with the soft
+green leaves a color-chord that pleased the weary eye.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Such a town is a place to get out of, as soon as possible, so thought
+the traveller who found himself laid over here for two days in late
+winter. He asked after the sights of the place. A white Muskrat stuffed
+in a case "down to the saloon"; old Baccy Bullin, who had been scalped
+by the Indians forty years ago; and a pipe once smoked by Kit Carson,
+proved unattractive, so he turned toward the prairie, still white with
+snow.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+A mark among the numerous Dog tracks caught his eye: it was the track
+of a large Jack-rabbit. He asked a passer-by if there were any Rabbits
+in town.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No, I reckon not. I never seen none," was the answer. A mill-hand gave
+the same reply, but a small boy with a bundle of newspapers said: "You
+bet there is; there's lots of them out there on the prairie, and they
+come in town a-plenty. Why, there's a big, big feller lives right round
+Si Kalb's melon-patch&mdash;oh, an awful big feller, and just as black and
+as white as checkers!" and thus he sent the stranger eastward on his
+walk.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The "big, big, awful big one" was the Little Warhorse himself. He
+didn't live in Kalb's melon-patch; he was there only at odd times. He
+was not there now; he was in his west-fronting form or bed, because a
+raw east wind was setting in. It was due east of Madison Avenue, and as
+the stranger plodded that way the Rabbit watched him. As long as the
+man kept the road the Jack was quiet, but the road turned shortly to
+the north, and the man by chance left it and came straight on. Then the
+Jack saw trouble ahead. The moment the man left the beaten track, he
+bounded from his form, and wheeling, he sailed across the prairie due
+east.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+A Jack-rabbit running from its enemy ordinarily covers eight or nine
+feet at a bound, and once in five or six bounds, it makes an
+observation hop, leaping not along, but high in the air, so as to get
+above all herbage and bushes and take in the situation. A silly young
+Jack will make an observation hop as often as one in four, and so waste
+a great deal of time. A clever Jack will make one hop in eight or nine,
+do for observation. But Jack Warhorse as he sped, got all the
+information he needed, in one hop out of a dozen, while ten to fourteen
+feet were covered by each of his flying bounds. Yet another personal
+peculiarity showed in the trail he left. When a Cottontail or a
+Wood-hare runs, his tail is curled up tight on his back, and does not
+touch the snow. When a Jack runs, his tail hangs downward or backward,
+with the tip curved or straight, according to the individual; in some,
+it points straight down, and so, often leaves a little stroke behind
+the foot-marks. The Warhorse's tail of shining black, was of unusual
+length, and at every bound, it left in the snow, a long stroke, so long
+that that alone was almost enough to tell which Rabbit had made the
+track.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Now some Rabbits seeing only a man without any Dog would have felt
+little fear, but Warhorse, remembering some former stinging experiences
+with a far-killer, fled when the foe was seventy-five yards away, and
+skimming low, he ran southeast to a fence that ran easterly. Behind
+this he went like a low-flying Hawk, till a mile away he reached
+another of his beds; and here, after an observation taken as he stood
+on his heels, he settled again to rest.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But not for long. In twenty minutes his great megaphone ears, so close
+to the ground, caught a regular sound&mdash;crunch, crunch, crunch&mdash;the
+tramp of a human foot, and he started up to see the man with the
+shining stick in his hand, now drawing near.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Warhorse bounded out and away for the fence. Never once did he rise to
+a "spy-hop" till the wire and rails were between him and his foe, an
+unnecessary precaution as it chanced, for the man was watching the
+trail and saw nothing of the Rabbit.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Jack skimmed along, keeping low and looking out for other enemies. He
+knew now that the man was on his track, and the old instinct born of
+ancestral trouble with Weasels was doubtless what prompted him to do
+the double trail. He ran in a long, straight course to a distant fence,
+followed its far side for fifty yards, then doubling back he retraced
+his trail and ran off in a new direction till he reached another of his
+dens or forms. He had been out all night and was very ready to rest,
+now that the sun was ablaze on the snow; but he had hardly got the
+place a little warmed when the "tramp, tramp, tramp" announced the
+enemy, and he hurried away.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+After a half-a-mile run he stopped on a slight rise and marked the man
+still following, so he made a series of wonderful quirks in his trail,
+a succession of blind zigzags that would have puzzled most trailers;
+then running a hundred yards past a favorite form, he returned to it
+from the other side, and settled to rest, sure that now the enemy would
+be finally thrown off the scent.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was slower than before, but still it came&mdash;"tramp, tramp, tramp."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Jack awoke, but sat still. The man tramped by on the trail one hundred
+yards in front of him, and as he went on, Jack sprang out unseen,
+realizing that this was an unusual occasion needing a special effort.
+They had gone in a vast circle around the home range of the Warhorse
+and now were less than a mile from the farm-house of the black Dog.
+There was that wonderful board fence with the happily planned hen-hole.
+It was a place of good memory&mdash;here more than once he had won, here
+especially he had baffled the Greyhound.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+These doubtless were the motive thoughts rather than any plan of
+playing one enemy against another, and Warhorse bounded openly across
+the snow to the fence of the big black Dog.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The hen-hole was shut, and Warhorse, not a little puzzled, sneaked
+around to find another, without success, until, around the front, here
+was the gate wide open, and inside lying on some boards was the big
+Dog, fast asleep. The Hens were sitting hunched up in the warmest
+corner of the yard. The house Cat was gingerly picking her way from
+barn to kitchen, as Warhorse halted in the gateway.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The black form of his pursuer was crawling down the far white prairie
+slope. Jack hopped quietly into the yard. A long-legged Rooster, that
+ought to have minded his own business, uttered a loud cackle as he saw
+the Rabbit hopping near. The Dog lying in the sun raised his head and
+stood up, and Jack's peril was dire. He squatted low and turned himself
+into a gray clod. He did it cleverly, but still might have been lost
+but for the Cat. Unwittingly, unwillingly, she saved him. The black Dog
+had taken three steps toward the Warhorse, though he did not know the
+Rabbit was there, and was now blocking the only way of escape from the
+yard, when the Cat came round the corner of the house, and leaping to a
+window-ledge brought a flower-pot rolling down. By that single awkward
+act she disturbed the armed neutrality existing between herself and the
+Dog. She fled to the barn, and of course a flying foe is all that is
+needed to send a Dog on the war-path. They passed within thirty feet of
+the crouching Rabbit. As soon as they were well gone, Jack turned, and
+with-out even a "Thank you, Pussy," he fled to the open and away on the
+hard-beaten road.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Cat had been rescued by the lady of the house; the Dog was once
+more sprawling on the boards when the man on Jack's trail arrived. He
+carried, not a gun, but a stout stick, sometimes called "dog-medicine,"
+and that was all that prevented the Dog attacking the enemy of his prey.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+This seemed to be the end of the trail. The trick, whether planned or
+not, was a success, and the Rabbit got rid of his troublesome follower.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Next day the stranger made another search for the Jack and found, not
+himself, but his track. He knew it by its tail-mark, its long leaps and
+few spy-hops, but with it and running by it was the track of a smaller
+Rabbit. Here is where they met, here they chased each other in play,
+for no signs of battle were there to be seen; here they fed or sat
+together in the sun, there they ambled side by side, and here again
+they sported in the snow, always together. There was only one
+conclusion: this was the mating season. This was a pair of
+Jack-rabbits&mdash;the Little Warhorse and his mate.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+IV
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+Next summer was a wonderful year for the Jack-rabbits. A foolish law
+had set a bounty on Hawks and Owls and had caused a general massacre of
+these feathered policemen. Consequently the Rabbits had multiplied in
+such numbers that they now were threatening to devastate the country.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The farmers, who were the sufferers from the bounty law, as well as the
+makers of it, decided on a great Rabbit drive. All the county was
+invited to come, on a given morning, to the main road north of the
+county, with the intention of sweeping the whole region up-wind and at
+length driving the Rabbits into a huge corral of close wire netting.
+Dogs were barred as unmanageable, and guns as dangerous in a crowd; but
+every man and boy carried a couple of long sticks and a bag full of
+stones. Women came on horseback and in buggies; many carried rattles or
+horns and tins to make a noise. A number of the buggies trailed a
+string of old cans or tied laths to scrape on the wheel-spokes, and
+thus add no little to the deafening clatter of the drive. As Rabbits
+have marvellously sensitive hearing, a noise that is distracting to
+mankind, is likely to prove bewildering to them.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The weather was right, and at eight in the morning the word to advance
+was given. The line was about five miles long at first, and there was a
+man or a boy every thirty or forty yards. The buggies and riders kept
+perforce almost entirely to the roads; but the beaters were supposed,
+as a point of honor, to face everything, and keep the front unbroken.
+The advance was roughly in three sides of a square. Each man made as
+much noise as he could, and threshed every bush in his path. A number
+of Rabbits hopped out. Some made for the lines, to be at once assailed
+by a shower of stones that laid many of them low. One or two did get
+through and escaped, but the majority were swept before the drive. At
+first the number seen was small, but before three miles were covered
+the Rabbits were running ahead in every direction. After five
+miles&mdash;and that took about three hours&mdash;the word for the wings to close
+in was given. The space between the men was shortened up till they were
+less than ten feet apart, and the whole drive converged on the corral
+with its two long guide wings or fences; the end lines joined these
+wings, and the surround was complete. The drivers marched rapidly now;
+scores of the Rabbits were killed as they ran too near the beaters.
+Their bodies strewed the ground, but the swarms seemed to increase; and
+in the final move, before the victims were cooped up in the corral, the
+two-acre space surrounded was a whirling throng of skurrying, jumping,
+bounding Rabbits. Round and round they circled and leaped, looking for
+a chance to escape; but the inexorable crowd grew thicker as the ring
+grew steadily smaller, and the whole swarm was forced along the chute
+into the tight corral, some to squat stupidly in the middle, some to
+race round the outer wall, some to seek hiding in corners or under each
+other.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And the Little Warhorse&mdash;where was he in all this? The drive had swept
+him along, and he had been one of the first to enter the corral. But a
+curious plan of selection had been established. The pen was to be a
+death-trap for the Rabbits, except the best, the soundest. And many
+were there that were unsound; those that think of all wild animals as
+pure and perfect things, would have been shocked to see how many halt,
+maimed, and diseased there were in that pen of four thousand or five
+thousand Jack-rabbits.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was a Roman victory&mdash;the rabble of prisoners was to be butchered.
+The choicest were to be reserved for the arena. The arena? Yes, that is
+the Coursing Park.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In that corral trap, prepared beforehand for the Rabbits, were a number
+of small boxes along the wall, a whole series of them, five hundred at
+least, each large enough to hold one Jack.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In the last rush of driving, the swiftest Jacks got first to the pen.
+Some were swift and silly; when once inside they rushed wildly round
+and round. Some were swift and wise; they quickly sought the hiding
+afforded by the little boxes; all of these were now full. Thus five
+hundred of the swiftest and wisest had been selected, in, not by any
+means an infallible way, but the simplest and readiest. These five
+hundred were destined to be coursed by Greyhounds. The surging mass of
+over four thousand were ruthlessly given to slaughter.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Five hundred little boxes with five hundred bright-eyed Jack-rabbits
+were put on the train that day, and among them was Little Jack Warhorse.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+V
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+Rabbits take their troubles lightly, and it is not to be supposed that
+any great terror was felt by the boxed Jacks, once the uproar of the
+massacre was over; and when they reached the Coursing Park near the
+great city and were turned out one by one, very gently,&mdash;yes, gently;
+the Roman guards were careful of their prisoners, being responsible for
+them,&mdash;the Jacks found little to complain of, a big inclosure with
+plenty of good food, and no enemies to annoy them.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The very next morning their training began. A score of hatchways were
+opened into a much larger field&mdash;the Park. After a number of Jacks had
+wandered out through these doors a rabble of boys appeared and drove
+them back, pursuing them noisily until all were again in the smaller
+field, called the Haven. A few days of this taught the Jack-rabbits
+that when pursued their safety was to get back by one of the hatches
+into the Haven.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Now the second lesson began. The whole band were driven out of a side
+door into a long lane which led around three sides of the Park to
+another inclosure at the far end. This was the Starting Pen. Its door
+into the arena&mdash;that is, the Park&mdash;was opened, the Rabbits driven
+forth, and then a mob of boys and Dogs in hiding, burst forth and
+pursued them across the open. The whole army went bobbing and bounding
+away, some of the younger ones soaring in a spy-hop, as a matter of
+habit; but low skimming ahead of them all was a gorgeous
+black-and-white one; clean-limbed and bright-eyed, he had attracted
+attention in the pen, but now in the field he led the band with easy
+lope that put him as far ahead of them all as they were ahead of the
+rabble of common Dogs.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Luk at thot, would ye&mdash;but ain't he a Little Warhorse?" shouted a
+villainous-looking Irish stable-boy, and thus he was named. When
+halfway across the course the Jacks remembered the Haven, and all swept
+toward it and in like a snow-cloud over the drifts.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+This was the second lesson&mdash;to lead straight for the Haven as soon as
+driven from the Pen. In a week all had learned it, and were ready for
+the great opening meet of the Coursing Club.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Little Warhorse was now well known to the grooms and hangers-on;
+his colors usually marked him clearly, and his leadership was in a
+measure recognized by the long-eared herd that fled with him. He
+figured more or less with the Dogs in the talk and betting of the men.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Wonder if old Dignam is going to enter Minkie this year?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Faix, an' if he does I bet the Little Warhorse will take the gimp out
+av her an' her runnin' mate."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I'll bet three to one that my old Jen will pick the Warhorse up before
+he passes the grand stand," growled a dog-man.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"An' it's meself will take thot bet in dollars," said Mickey, "an',
+moore than thot, Oi'll put up a hull month's stuff thot there ain't a
+dog in the mate thot kin turrn the Warrhorrse oncet on the hull coorse."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+So they wrangled and wagered, but each day, as they put the Rabbits
+through their paces, there were more of those who believed that they
+had found a wonderful runner in the Warhorse, one that would give the
+best Greyhounds something that is rarely seen, a straight stern chase
+from Start to Grand Stand and Haven.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+VI
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+The first morning of the meet arrived bright and promising. The Grand
+Stand was filled with a city crowd. The usual types of a racecourse
+appeared in force. Here and there were to be seen the dog-grooms
+leading in leash single Greyhounds or couples, shrouded in blankets,
+but showing their sinewy legs, their snaky necks, their shapely heads
+with long reptilian jaws, and their quick, nervous yellow eyes&mdash;hybrids
+of natural force and human ingenuity, the most wonderful
+running-machines ever made of flesh and blood. Their keepers guarded
+them like jewels, tended them like babies, and were careful to keep
+them from picking up odd eatables, as well as prevent them smelling
+unusual objects or being approached by strangers. Large sums were
+wagered on these Dogs, and a cunningly placed tack, a piece of doctored
+meat, yes, an artfully compounded smell, has been known to turn a
+superb young runner into a lifeless laggard, and to the owner this
+might spell ruin. The Dogs entered in each class are paired off, as
+each contest is supposed to be a duel; the winners in the first series
+are then paired again. In each trial, a Jack is driven from the
+Starting-pen; close by in one leash are the rival Dogs, held by the
+slipper. As soon as the Hare is well away, the man has to get the Dogs
+evenly started and slip them together. On the field is the judge,
+scarlet-coated and well mounted. He follows the chase. The Hare,
+mindful of his training, speeds across the open, toward the Haven, in
+full view of the Grand Stand. The Dogs follow the Jack. As the first
+one comes near enough to be dangerous, the Hare balks him by dodging.
+Each time the Hare is turned, scores for the Dog that did it, and a
+final point is made by the kill.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Sometimes the kill takes place within one hundred yards of the
+start&mdash;that means a poor Jack; mostly it happens in front of the Grand
+Stand; but on rare occasions it chances that the Jack goes sailing
+across the open Park a good half-mile and, by dodging for time, runs to
+safety in the Haven. Four finishes are possible: a speedy kill; a
+speedy winning of the Haven; new Dogs to relieve the first runners, who
+would suffer heart-collapse in the terrific strain of their pace, if
+kept up many minutes in hot weather; and finally, for Rabbits that by
+continued dodging defy and jeopardize the Dogs, and yet do not win the
+Haven, there is kept a loaded shotgun.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There is just as much jockeying at a Kaskado coursing as at a Kaskado
+horse-race, just as many attempts at fraud, and it is just as necessary
+to have the judge and slipper beyond suspicion.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The day before the next meet a man of diamonds saw Irish Mickey&mdash;by
+chance. A cigar was all that visibly passed, but it had a green wrapper
+that was slipped off before lighting. Then a word: "If you wuz slipper
+to-morrow and it so came about that Dignam's Minkie gets done,
+wall,&mdash;it means another cigar."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Faix, an' if I wuz slipper I could load the dice so Minkie would flyer
+score a p'int, but her runnin' mate would have the same bad luck."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That so?" The diamond man looked interested. "All right&mdash;fix it so; it
+means two cigars."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Slipper Slyman had always dealt on the square, had scorned many
+approaches&mdash;that was well known. Most believed in him, but there were
+some malcontents, and when a man with many gold seals approached the
+Steward and formulated charges, serious and well-backed, they must
+perforce suspend the slipper pending an inquiry, and thus Mickey Doo
+reigned in his stead.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mickey was poor and not over-scrupulous. Here was a chance to make a
+year's pay in a minute, nothing wrong about it, no harm to the Dog or
+the Rabbit either.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+One Jack-rabbit is much like another. Everybody knows that; it was
+simply a question of choosing your Jack.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The preliminaries were over. Fifty Jacks had been run and killed.
+Mickey had done his work satisfactorily; a fair slip had been given to
+every leash. He was still in command as slipper. Now came the final for
+the cup&mdash;the cup and the large stakes.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+VII
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+There were the slim and elegant Dogs awaiting their turn. Minkie and
+her rival were first. Everything had been fair so far, and who can say
+that what followed was unfair? Mickey could turn out which Jack he
+pleased.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Number three!" he called to his partner.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Out leaped the Little Warhorse,&mdash;black and white his great ears, easy
+and low his five-foot bounds; gazing wildly at the unwonted crowd about
+the Park, he leaped high in one surprising spy-hop.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Hrrrrr!" shouted the slipper, and his partner rattled a stick on the
+fence. The Warhorse's bounds increased to eight or nine feet.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Hrrrrrr!" and they were ten or twelve feet. At thirty yards the Hounds
+were slipped&mdash;an even slip; some thought it could have been done at
+twenty yards.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Hrrrrrr! Hrrrrrrr!" and the Warhorse was doing fourteen-foot leaps,
+not a spy-hop among them.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Hrrrrr!" wonderful Dogs! how they sailed; but drifting ahead of them,
+like a white sea-bird or flying scud, was the Warhorse. Away past the
+Grand Stand. And the Dogs&mdash;were they closing the gap of start? Closing!
+It was lengthening! In less time than it takes to tell it, that
+black-and-white thistledown had drifted away through the Haven
+door,&mdash;the door so like that good old hen-hole,&mdash;and the Grey-hounds
+pulled up amidst a roar of derision and cheers for the Little Warhorse.
+How Mickey did laugh! How Dignam did swear! How the newspaper men did
+scribble&mdash;scribble&mdash;scribble!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Next day there was a paragraph in all the papers: "WONDERFUL FEAT OF A
+JACKRABBIT. The Little Warhorse, as he has been styled, completely
+skunked two of the most famous Dogs on the turf," etc.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There was a fierce wrangle among the dog-men. This was a tie, since
+neither had scored, and Minkie and her rival were allowed to run again;
+but that half-mile had been too hot, and they had no show for the cup.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mickey met "Diamonds" next day, by chance.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Have a cigar, Mickey."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oi will thot, sor. Faix, thim's so foine; I'd loike two&mdash;thank ye,
+sor."
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+VIII
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+From that time the Little Warhorse became the pride of the Irish boy.
+Slipper Slyman had been honorably reinstated and Mickey reduced to the
+rank of Jack-starter, but that merely helped to turn his sympathies
+from the Dogs to the Rabbits, or rather to the Warhorse, for of all the
+five hundred that were brought in from the drive he alone had won
+renown. There were several that crossed the Park to run again another
+day, but he alone had crossed the course without getting even a turn.
+Twice a week the meets took place; forty or fifty Jacks were killed
+each time, and the five hundred in the pen had been nearly all eaten of
+the arena.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Warhorse had run each day, and as often had made the Haven. Mickey
+became wildly enthusiastic about his favorite's powers. He begot a
+positive affection for the clean-limbed racer, and stoutly maintained
+against all that it was a positive honor to a Dog to be disgraced by
+such a Jack.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It is so seldom that a Rabbit crosses the track at all, that when Jack
+did it six times without having to dodge, the papers took note of it,
+and after each meet there appeared a notice: "The Little Warhorse
+crossed again today;  old-timers say it shows how our Dogs are
+deteriorating."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+After the sixth time the rabbit-keepers grew enthusiastic, and Mickey,
+commander-in-chief of the brigade, became intemperate in his
+admiration. "Be jabers, he has a right to be torned loose. He has won
+his freedom loike ivery Amerikin done," he added, by way of appeal to
+the patriotism of the Steward of the race, who was, of course, the real
+owner of the Jacks.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"All right, Mick; if he gets across thirteen times you can ship him
+back to his native land," was the reply.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Shure now, an' won't you make it tin, sor?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No, no; I need him to take the conceit out of some of the new Dogs
+that are coming."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Thirteen toimes and he is free, sor; it's a bargain."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+A new lot of Rabbits arrived about this time, and one of these was
+colored much like Little Warhorse. He had no such speed, but to prevent
+mistakes Mickey caught his favorite by driving him into one of the
+padded shipping-boxes, and proceeded with the gate-keeper's punch to
+earmark him. The punch was sharp; a clear star was cut out of the thin
+flap, when Mickey exclaimed: "Faix, an' Oi'll punch for ivery toime ye
+cross the coorse." So he cut six stars in a row. "Thayer now,
+Warrhorrse, shure it's a free Rabbit ye'll be when ye have yer thirteen
+stars like our flag of liberty hed when we got free."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Within a week the Warhorse had vanquished the new Greyhounds and had
+stars enough to go round the right ear and begin on the left. In a week
+more the thirteen runs were completed, six stars in the left ear and
+seven in the right, and the newspapers had new material.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Whoop!" How Mickey hoorayed! "An' it's a free Jack ye are, Warrhorrse!
+Thirteen always wuz a lucky number. I never knowed it to fail."
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+IX
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, I know I did," said the Steward. "But I want to give him one more
+run. I have a bet on him against a new Dog here. It won't hurt him now;
+he can do it. Oh, well. Here now, Mickey, don't you get sassy. One run
+more this afternoon. The Dogs run two or three times a day; why not the
+Jack?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"They're not shtakin' thayre loives, sor."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, you get out."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Many more Rabbits had been added to the pen,&mdash;big and small, peaceful
+and warlike,&mdash;and one big Buck of savage instincts, seeing Jack
+Warhorse's hurried dash into the Haven that morning, took advantage of
+the moment to attack him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+At another time Jack would have thumped his skull, as he once did the
+Cat's, and settled the affair in a minute; but now it took several
+minutes, during which he himself got roughly handled; so when the
+afternoon came he was suffering from one or two bruises and stiffening
+wounds; not serious, indeed, but enough to lower his speed.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The start was much like those of previous runs. The Warhorse steaming
+away low and lightly, his ears up and the breezes whistling through his
+thirteen stars.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Minkie with Fango, the new Dog, bounded in eager pursuit, but, to the
+surprise of the starters, the gap grew smaller. The Warhorse was losing
+ground, and right before the Grand Stand old Minkie turned him, and a
+cheer went up from the dog-men, for all knew the runners. Within fifty
+yards Fango scored a turn, and the race was right back to the start.
+There stood Slyman and Mickey. The Rabbit dodged, the Greyhounds
+plunged; Jack could not get away, and just as the final snap seemed
+near, the Warhorse leaped straight for Mickey, and in an instant was
+hidden in his arms, while the starter's feet flew out in energetic
+kicks to repel the furious Dogs. It is not likely that the Jack knew
+Mickey for a friend; he only yielded to the old instinct to fly from a
+certain enemy to a neutral or a possible friend, and, as luck would
+have it, he had wisely leaped and well. A cheer went up from the
+benches as Mickey hurried back with his favorite. But the dog-men
+protested "it wasn't a fair run&mdash;they wanted it finished." They
+appealed to the Steward. He had backed the Jack against Fango. He was
+sore now, and ordered a new race.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+An hour's rest was the best Mickey could get for him. Then he went as
+before, with Fango and Minkie in pursuit. He seemed less stiff now&mdash;he
+ran more like himself; but a little past the Stand he was turned by
+Fango and again by Minkie, and back and across, and here and there,
+leaping frantically and barely eluding his foes. For several minutes it
+lasted. Mickey could see that Jack's ears were sinking. The new Dog
+leaped. Jack dodged almost under him to escape, and back only to meet
+the second Dog; and now both ears were flat on his back. But the Hounds
+were suffering too. Their tongues were lolling out; their jaws and
+heaving sides were splashed with foam. The Warhorse's ears went up
+again. His courage seemed to revive in their distress. He made a
+straight dash for the Haven; but the straight dash was just what the
+Hounds could do, and within a hundred yards he was turned again, to
+begin another desperate game of zigzag. Then the dog-men saw danger for
+their Dogs, and two new ones were slipped&mdash;two fresh Hounds; surely
+they could end the race. But they did not. The first two were
+vanquished&mdash;gasping&mdash;out of it, but the next two were racing near. The
+Warhorse put forth all his strength. He left the first two far
+behind&mdash;was nearly to the Haven when the second two came up.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Nothing but dodging could save him now. His ears were sinking, his
+heart was pattering on his ribs, but his spirit was strong. He flung
+himself in wildest zigzags. The Hounds tumbled over each other. Again
+and again they thought they had him. One of them snapped off the end of
+his long black tail, yet he escaped; but he could not get to the Haven.
+The luck was against him. He was forced nearer to the Grand Stand. A
+thousand ladies were watching. The time limit was up. The second Dogs
+were suffering, when Mickey came running, yelling like a
+madman&mdash;words&mdash;imprecations&mdash;crazy sounds:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ye blackguard hoodlums! Ye dhirty, cowardly bastes!" and he rushed
+furiously at the Dogs, intent to do them bodily harm.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Officers came running and shouting, and Mickey, shrieking hatred and
+defiance, was dragged from the field, reviling Dogs and men with every
+horrid, insulting name he could think of or invent.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Fair play! Whayer's yer fair play, ye liars, ye dhirty cheats, ye
+bloody cowards!" And they drove him from the arena. The last he saw of
+it was the four foaming Dogs feebly dodging after a weak and worn-out
+Jack-rabbit, and the judge on his Horse beckoning to the man with the
+gun.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The gate closed behind him, and Mickey heard a bang-bang, an unusual
+uproar mixed with yelps of Dogs, and he knew that Little Jack Warhorse
+had been served with finish No. 4.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+All his life he had loved Dogs, but his sense of fair play was
+outraged. He could not get in, nor see in from where he was. He raced
+along the lane to the Haven, where he might get a good view, and
+arrived in time to see&mdash;Little Jack Warhorse with his half-masted ears
+limp into the Haven; and he realized at once that the man with the gun
+had missed, had hit the wrong runner, for there was the crowd at the
+Stand watching two men who were carrying a wounded Greyhound, while a
+veterinary surgeon was ministering to another that was panting on the
+ground.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mickey looked about, seized a little shipping-box, put it at the angle
+of the Haven, carefully drove the tired thing into it, closed the lid,
+then, with the box under his arm, he scaled the fence unseen in the
+confusion and was gone.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+'It didn't matter; he had lost his job anyway.' He tramped away from
+the city. He took the train at the nearest station and travelled some
+hours, and now he was in Rabbit country again. The sun had long gone
+down; the night with its stars was over the plain when among the farms,
+the Osage and alfalfa, Mickey Doo opened the box and gently put the
+Warhorse out.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Grinning as he did so, he said: "Shure an' it's ould Oireland thot's
+proud to set the thirteen stars at liberty wance moore."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+For a moment the Little Warhorse gazed in doubt, then took three or
+four long leaps and a spy-hop to get his bearings. Now spreading his
+national colors and his honor-marked ears, he bounded into his hard-won
+freedom, strong as ever, and melted into the night of his native plain.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He has been seen many times in Kaskado, and there have been many Rabbit
+drives in that region, but he seems to know some means of baffling them
+now, for, in all the thousands that have been trapped and corralled,
+they have never since seen the star-spangled ears of Little jack
+Warhorse.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="snap"></A>
+<H2 ALIGN="center">
+SNAP
+</H2>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE STORY OF A BULL-TERRIER
+</H3>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+I
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+It was dusk on Hallowe'en when first I saw him. Early in the morning I
+had received a telegram from my college chum Jack: "Lest we forget. Am
+sending you a remarkable pup. Be polite to him; it's safer." It would
+have been just like Jack to have sent an infernal machine or a Skunk
+rampant and called it a pup, so I awaited the hamper with curiosity.
+When it arrived I saw it was marked "Dangerous," and there came from
+within a high-pitched snarl at every slight provocation. On peering
+through the wire netting I saw it was not a baby Tiger but a small
+white Bull-terrier. He snapped at me and at any one or anything that
+seemed too abrupt or too near for proper respect, and his snarling
+growl was unpleasantly frequent. Dogs have two growls: one
+deep-rumbled, and chesty; that is polite warning&mdash;the retort courteous;
+the other mouthy and much higher in pitch: this is the last word before
+actual onslaught. The Terrier's growls were all of the latter kind. I
+was a dog-man and thought I knew all about Dogs, so, dismissing the
+porter, I got out my all-round
+jackknife&mdash;toothpick&mdash;nailhammer-hatchet-toolbox-fire-shovel, a
+specialty of our firm, and lifted the netting. Oh, yes, I knew all
+about Dogs. The little fury had been growling out a whole-souled growl
+for every tap of the tool, and when I turned the box on its side, he
+made a dash straight for my legs. Had not his foot gone through the
+wire netting and held him, I might have been hurt, for his heart was
+evidently in his work; but I stepped on the table out of reach and
+tried to reason with him. I have always believed in talking to animals.
+I maintain that they gather something of our intention at least, even
+if they do not understand our words; but the Dog evidently put me down
+for a hypocrite and scorned my approaches. At first he took his post
+under the table and kept up a circular watch for a leg trying to get
+down. I felt sure I could have controlled him with my eye, but I could
+not bring it to bear where I was, or rather where he was; thus I was
+left a prisoner. I am a very cool person, I flatter myself; in fact, I
+represent a hardware firm, and, in coolness, we are not excelled by any
+but perhaps the nosy gentlemen that sell wearing-apparel. I got out a
+cigar and smoked tailor-style on the table, while my little tyrant
+below kept watch for legs. I got out the telegram and read it:
+"Remarkable pup. Be polite to him; it's safer." I think it was my
+coolness rather than my politeness that did it, for in half an hour the
+growling ceased. In an hour he no longer jumped at a newspaper
+cautiously pushed over the edge to test his humor; possibly the
+irritation of the cage was wearing off, and by the time I had lit my
+third cigar, he waddled out to the fire and lay down; not ignoring me,
+however, I had no reason to complain of that kind of contempt. He kept
+one eye on me, and I kept both eyes, not on him, but on his stumpy
+tail. If that tail should swing sidewise once I should feel I was
+winning; but it did not swing. I got a book and put in time on that
+table till my legs were cramped and the fire burned low. About 10 P.M.
+it was chilly, and at half-past ten the fire was out. My Hallowe'en
+present got up, yawned and stretched, then walked under my bed, where
+he found a fur rug. By stepping lightly from the table to the dresser,
+and then on to the mantel-shelf, I also reached bed, and, very quietly
+undressing, got in without provoking any criticism from my master. I
+had not yet fallen asleep when I heard a slight scrambling and felt
+"thump-thump" on the bed, then over my feet and legs; Snap evidently
+had found it too cool down below, and proposed to have the best my
+house afforded.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He curled up on my feet in such a way that I was very uncomfortable and
+tried to readjust matters, but the slightest wriggle of my toe was
+enough to make him snap at it so fiercely that nothing but thick
+woollen bedclothes saved me from being maimed for life.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I was an hour moving my feet&mdash;a hair's-breadth at a time&mdash;till they
+were so that I could sleep in comfort; and I was awakened several times
+during the night by angry snarls from the Dog&mdash;I suppose because I
+dared to move a toe without his approval, though once I believe he did
+it simply because I was snoring.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In the morning I was ready to get up before Snap was. You see, I call
+him Snap-Ginger-snap in full. Some Dogs are hard to name, and some do
+not seem to need it&mdash;they name themselves.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I was ready to rise at seven. Snap was not ready till eight, so we rose
+at eight. He had little to say to the man who made the fire. He allowed
+me to dress without doing it on the table. As I left the room to get
+breakfast, I remarked:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Snap, my friend, some men would whip you into a different way, but I
+think I know a better plan. The doctors nowadays favor the
+'no-breakfast cure.' I shall try that."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It seemed cruel, but I left him without food all day. It cost me
+something to repaint the door where he scratched it, but at night he
+was quite ready to accept a little food at my hands.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In a week we were very good friends. He would sleep on my bed now and
+allow me to move my feet without snapping at them, intent to do me
+serious bodily harm. The no-breakfast cure had worked wonders; in three
+months we were&mdash;well, simply man and Dog, and he amply justified the
+telegram he came with.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He seemed to be without fear. If a small Dog came near, he would take
+not the slightest notice; if a medium-sized Dog, he would stick his
+stub of a tail rigidly up in the air, then walk around him, scratching
+contemptuously with his hind feet, and looking at the sky, the
+distance, the ground, anything but the Dog, and noting his presence
+only by frequent high-pitched growls. If the stranger did not move on
+at once, the battle began, and then the stranger usually moved on very
+rapidly. Snap sometimes got worsted, but no amount of sad experience
+could ever inspire him with a grain of caution. Once, while riding in a
+cab during the Dog Show, Snap caught sight of an elephantine St.
+Bernard taking an airing. Its size aroused such enthusiasm in the Pup's
+little breast that he leaped from the cab window to do battle, and
+broke his leg.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Evidently fear had been left out of his make-up and its place supplied
+with an extra amount of ginger, which was the reason of his full name.
+He differed from all other Dogs I have ever known. For example, if a
+boy threw a stone at him, he ran, not away, but toward the boy, and if
+the crime was repeated, Snap took the law into his own hands; thus he
+was at least respected by all. Only myself and the porter at the office
+seemed to realize his good points, and we only were admitted to the
+high honor of personal friendship, an honor which I appreciated more as
+months went on, and by midsummer not Carnegie, Vanderbilt, and Astor
+together could have raised money enough to buy a quarter of a share in
+my little Dog Snap.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+II
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+Though not a regular traveller, I was ordered out on the road in the
+autumn, and then Snap and the landlady were left together, with
+unfortunate developments. Contempt on his part&mdash;fear on hers; and hate
+on both.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I was placing a lot of barb-wire in the northern tier of States. My
+letters were forwarded once a week, and I got several complaints from
+the landlady about Snap.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Arrived at Mendoza, in North Dakota, I found a fine market for wire. Of
+course my dealings were with the big storekeepers, but I went about
+among the ranchmen to get their practical views on the different
+styles, and thus I met the Penroof Brothers' Cow-outfit.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+One cannot be long in Cow country now without hearing a great deal
+about the depredations of the ever wily and destructive Gray-wolf. The
+day has gone by when they can be poisoned wholesale, and they are a
+serious drain on the rancher's profits. The Penroof Brothers, like most
+live cattle-men, had given up all attempts at poisoning and trapping,
+and were trying various breeds of Dogs as Wolf-hunters, hoping to get a
+little sport out of the necessary work of destroying the pests.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Foxhounds had failed&mdash;they were too soft for fighting; Great Danes were
+too clumsy, and Greyhounds could not follow the game unless they could
+see it. Each breed had some fatal defect, but the cow-men hoped to
+succeed with a mixed pack, and the day when I was invited to join in a
+Mendoza Wolf-hunt, I was amused by the variety of Dogs that followed.
+There were several mongrels, but there were also a few highly bred
+Dogs&mdash;in particular, some Russian Wolfhounds that must have cost a lot
+of money.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Hilton Penroof, the oldest boy, "The Master of Hounds," was unusually
+proud of them, and expected them to do great things.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Greyhounds are too thin-skinned to fight a Wolf, Danes are too slow,
+but you'll see the fur fly when the Russians take a hand."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Thus the Greyhounds were there as runners, the Danes as heavy backers,
+and the Russians to do the important fighting. There were also two or
+three Foxhounds, whose fine noses were relied on to follow the trail if
+the game got out of view.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was a fine sight as we rode away among the Badland Buttes that
+October day. The air was bright and crisp, and though so late, there
+was neither snow nor frost. The Horses were fresh, and once or twice
+showed me how a Cow-pony tries to get rid of his rider.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Dogs were keen for sport, and we did start one or two gray spots in
+the plain that Hilton said were Wolves or Coyotes. The Dogs trailed
+away at full cry, but at night, beyond the fact that one of the
+Greyhounds had a wound on his shoulder, there was nothing to show that
+any of them had been on a Wolf-hunt.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It's my opinion yer fancy Russians is no good, Hilt," said Garvin, the
+younger brother. "I'll back that little black Dane against the lot,
+mongrel an' all as he is."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I don't unnerstan' it," growled Hilton. "There ain't a Coyote, let
+alone a Gray-wolf, kin run away from them Greyhounds; them Foxhounds
+kin folly a trail three days old, an' the Danes could lick a Grizzly."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I reckon," said the father, "they kin run, an' they kin track, an'
+they kin lick a Grizzly, maybe, but the fac' is they don't want to
+tackle a Gray-wolf. The hull darn pack is scairt&mdash;an' I wish we had our
+money out o' them."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Thus the men grumbled and discussed as I drove away and left them.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There seemed only one solution of the failure. The Hounds were swift
+and strong, but a Gray-wolf seems to terrorize all Dogs. They have not
+the nerve to face him, and so, each time he gets away, and my thoughts
+flew back to the fearless little Dog that had shared my bed for the
+last year. How I wished he was out here, then these lubberly giants of
+Hounds would find a leader whose nerve would not fail at the moment of
+trial.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+At Baroka, my next stop, I got a batch of mail including two letters
+from the landlady; the first to say that "that beast of a Dog was
+acting up scandalous in my room," and the other still more forcible,
+demanding his immediate removal. "Why not have him expressed to
+Mendoza?" I thought. "It's only twenty hours; they'll be glad to have
+him. I can take him home with me when I go through."
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+III
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+My next meeting with Gingersnap was not as different from the first as
+one might have expected. He jumped on me, made much vigorous pretense
+to bite, and growled frequently, but it was a deep-chested growl and
+his stump waggled hard.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Penroofs had had a number of Wolf-hunts since I was with them, and
+were much disgusted at having no better success than before. The Dogs
+could find a Wolf nearly every time they went out, but they could not
+kill him, and the men were not near enough at the finish to learn why.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Old Penroof was satisfied that "thar wasn't one of the hull miserable
+gang that had the grit of a Jack-rabbit."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+We were off at dawn the next day&mdash;the same procession of fine Horses
+and superb riders; the big blue Dogs, the yellow Dogs, the spotted
+Dogs, as before; but there was a new feature, a little white Dog that
+stayed close by me, and not only any Dogs, but Horses that came too
+near were apt to get a surprise from his teeth. I think he quarrelled
+with every man, Horse, and Dog in the country, with the exception of a
+Bull-terrier belonging to the Mendoza hotel man. She was the only one
+smaller than himself, and they seemed very good friends.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I shall never forget the view of the hunt I had that day. We were on
+one of those large, flat-headed buttes that give a kingdom to the eye,
+when Hilton, who had been scanning the vast country with glasses,
+exclaimed: "I see him. There he goes, toward Skull Creek. Guess it's a
+Coyote."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Now the first thing is to get the Greyhounds to see the prey&mdash;not an
+easy matter, as they cannot use the glasses, and the ground was covered
+with sage-brush higher than the Dogs' heads.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But Hilton called, "Hu, hu, Dander," and leaned aside from his saddle,
+holding out his foot at the same time. With one agile bound Dander
+leaped to the saddle and there stood balancing on the Horse while
+Hilton kept pointing. "There he is, Dander; sic him&mdash;see him down
+there." The Dog gazed earnestly where his master pointed, then seeming
+to see, he sprang to the ground with a slight yelp and sped away. The
+other Dogs followed after, in an ever-lengthening procession, and we
+rode as hard as we could behind them, but losing time, for the ground
+was cut with gullies, spotted with badger-holes, and covered with rocks
+and sage that made full speed too hazardous.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+We all fell behind, and I was last, of course, being least accustomed
+to the saddle. We got several glimpses of the Dogs flying over the
+level plain or dropping from sight in gullies to reappear at the other
+side. Dander, the Greyhound, was the recognized leader, and as we
+mounted another ridge we got sight of the whole chase&mdash;a Coyote at full
+speed, the Dogs a quarter of a mile behind, but gaining. When next we
+saw them the Coyote was dead, and the Dogs sitting around panting, all
+but two of the Foxhounds and Gingersnap.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Too late for the fracas," remarked Hilton, glancing at these last
+Foxhounds. Then he proudly petted Dander. "Didn't need yer purp after
+all, ye see."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Takes a heap of nerve for ten big Dogs to face one little Coyote,"
+remarked the father, sarcastically. "Wait till we run onto a Gray."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Next day we were out again, for I made up my mind to see it to a finish.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+From a high point we caught sight of a moving speck of gray. A moving
+white speck stands for Antelope, a red speck for Fox, a gray speck for
+either Gray-wolf or Coyote, and which of these is determined by its
+tail. If the glass shows the tail down, it is a Coyote; if up, it is
+the hated Gray-wolf.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Dander was shown the game as before and led the motley mixed
+procession&mdash;as he had before&mdash;Greyhounds, Wolfhounds, Foxhounds, Danes,
+Bull-terrier, horsemen. We got a momentary view of the pursuit; a
+Gray-wolf it surely was, loping away ahead of the Dogs. Somehow I
+thought the first Dogs were not running so fast now as they had after
+the Coyote. But no one knew the finish of the hunt. The Dogs came back
+to us one by one, and we saw no more of that Wolf.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Sarcastic remarks and recrimination were now freely indulged in by the
+hunters.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Pah&mdash;scairt, plumb scairt," was the father's disgusted comment on the
+pack. "They could catch up easy enough, but when he turned on them,
+they lighted out for home&mdash;pah!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Where's that thar onsurpassable, fearless, scaired-o'-nort Tarrier?"
+asked Hilton, scornfully.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I don't know," said I. "I am inclined to think he never saw the Wolf;
+but if he ever does, I'll bet he sails in for death or glory."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+That night several Cows were killed close to the ranch, and we were
+spurred on to another hunt.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It opened much like the last. Late in the afternoon we sighted a gray
+fellow with tail up, not half a mile off. Hilton called Dander up on
+the saddle. I acted on the idea and called Snap to mine. His legs were
+so short that he had to leap several times before he made it,
+scrambling up at last with my foot as a half-way station. I pointed and
+"sic-ed" for a minute before he saw the game, and then he started out
+after the Greyhounds, already gone, with energy that was full of
+promise.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The chase this time led us, not to the rough brakes along the river,
+but toward the high open country, for reasons that appeared later. We
+were close together as we rose to the upland and sighted the chase half
+a mile off, just as Dander came up with the Wolf and snapped at his
+haunch. The Gray-wolf turned round to fight, and we had a fine view.
+The Dogs came up by twos and threes, barking at him in a ring, till
+last the little white one rushed up. He wasted no time barking, but
+rushed straight at the Wolf's throat and missed it, yet seemed to get
+him by the nose; then the ten big Dogs closed in, and in two minutes
+the Wolf was dead. We had ridden hard to be in at the finish, and
+though our view was distant, we saw at least that Snap had lived up to
+the telegram, as well as to my promises for him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Now it was my turn to crow, and I did not lose the chance. Snap had
+shown them how, and at last the Mendoza pack had killed a Gray-wolf
+without help from the men.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There were two things to mar the victory somewhat: first, it was a
+young Wolf, a mere Cub, hence his foolish choice of country; second,
+Snap was wounded&mdash;the Wolf had given him a bad cut in the shoulder.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+As we rode in proud procession home, I saw he limped a little. "Here,"
+I cried, "come up, Snap." He tried once or twice to jump to the saddle,
+but could not. "Here, Hilton, lift him up to me."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Thanks; I'll let you handle your own rattlesnakes," was the reply, for
+all knew now that it was not safe to meddle with his person. "Here,
+Snap, take hold," I said, and held my quirt to him. He seized it, and
+by that I lifted him to the front of my saddle and so carried him home.
+I cared for him as though he had been a baby. He had shown those
+Cattle-men how to fill the weak place in their pack; the Foxhounds may
+be good and the Greyhounds swift and the Russians and Danes fighters,
+but they are no use at all without the crowning moral force of grit,
+that none can supply so well as a Bull-terrier. On that day the
+Cattlemen learned how to manage the Wolf question, as you will find if
+ever you are at Mendoza; for every successful Wolf pack there has with
+it a Bull-terrier, preferably of the Snap-Mendoza breed.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+IV
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+Next day was Hallowe'en, the anniversary of Snap's advent. The weather
+was clear, bright, not too cold, and there was no snow on the ground.
+The men usually celebrated the day with a hunt of some sort, and now,
+of course, Wolves were the one object. To the disappointment of all,
+Snap was in bad shape with his wound. He slept, as usual, at my feet,
+and bloody stains now marked the place. He was not in condition to
+fight, but we were bound to have a Wolf-hunt, so he was beguiled to an
+outhouse and locked up, while we went off, I, at least, with a sense of
+impending disaster. I knew we should fail without my Dog, but I did not
+realize how bad a failure it was to be.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Afar among the buttes of Skull Creek we had roamed when a white ball
+appeared bounding through the sage-brush, and in a minute more Snap
+came, growling and stump-waggling, up to my Horse's side. I could not
+send him back; he would take no such orders, not even from me. His
+wound was looking bad, so I called him, held down the quirt, and jumped
+him to my saddle.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"There," I thought, "I'll keep you safe till we get home." 'Yes, I
+thought; but I reckoned not with Snap. The voice of Hilton, "Hu, hu,"
+announced that he had sighted a Wolf. Dander and Riley, his rival, both
+sprang to the point of observation, with the result that they collided
+and fell together, sprawling, in the sage. But Snap, gazing hard, had
+sighted the Wolf, not so very far off, and before I knew it, he leaped
+from the saddle and bounded zigzag, high, low, in and under the sage,
+straight for the enemy, leading the whole pack for a few minutes. Not
+far, of course. The great Greyhounds sighted the moving speck, and the
+usual procession strung out on the plain. It promised to be a fine
+hunt, for the Wolf had less than half a mile start and all the Dogs
+were fully interested.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"They 'ye turned up Grizzly Gully," cried Garvin. "This way, and we can
+head them off."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+So we turned and rode hard around the north side of Hulmer's Butte,
+while the chase seemed to go round the south.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+We galloped to the top of Cedar Ridge and were about to ride down, when
+Hilton shouted, "By George, here he is! We're right onto him." He
+leaped from his Horse, dropped the bridle, and ran forward. I did the
+same. A great Gray-wolf came lumbering across an open plain toward us.
+His head was low, his tail out level, and fifty yards behind him was
+Dander, sailing like a Hawk over the ground, going twice as fast as the
+Wolf. In a minute the Hound was alongside and snapped, but bounded
+back, as the Wolf turned on him. They were just below us now and not
+fifty feet away. Garvin drew his revolver, but in a fateful moment
+Hilton interfered: "No; no; let's see it out." In a few seconds the
+next Greyhound arrived, then the rest in order of swiftness. Each came
+up full of fight and fury, determined to go right in and tear the
+Gray-wolf to pieces; but each in turn swerved aside, and leaped and
+barked around at a safe distance. After a minute or so the Russians
+appeared&mdash;fine big Dogs they were.  Their distant intention no doubt
+was to dash right at the old Wolf; but his fearless front, his sinewy
+frame and death-dealing jaws, awed them long before they were near him,
+and they also joined the ring, while the desperado in the middle faced
+this way and that, ready for any or all.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Now the Danes came up, huge-limbed creatures, any one of them as heavy
+as the Wolf.  I heard their heavy breathing tighten into a threatening
+sound as they plunged ahead; eager to tear the foe to pieces; but when
+they saw him there, grim fearless, mighty of jaw, tireless of limb,
+ready to die if need be, but sure of this, he would not die
+alone&mdash;well, those great Danes&mdash;all three of them&mdash;were stricken, as
+the rest had been, with a sudden bashfulness: Yes, they would go right
+in presently&mdash;not now, but as soon as they had got their breath; they
+were not afraid of a Wolf, oh, no.  I could read their courage in their
+voices.  They knew perfectly well that the first Dog to go in was going
+to get hurt, but never mind that&mdash;presently; they would bark a little
+more to get up enthusiasm.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And as the ten big Dogs were leaping round the silent Wolf at bay,
+there was a rustling in the sage at the far side of place; then a
+snow-white rubber ball, it seemed, came bounding, but grew into a
+little Bull-terrier, and Snap, slowest of the pack, and last, came
+panting hard, so hard he seemed gasping.  Over the level open he made,
+straight to the changing ring around the Cattle-killer whom none dared
+face.  Did he hesitate? Not for an instant; through the ring of the
+yelping pack, straight for the old despot of range, right for his
+throat he sprang; and the Gray-wolf struck with his twenty scimitars.
+But the little one, if fooled at all, sprang again, and then what came
+I hardly knew. There was a whirling mass of Dogs. I thought I saw the
+little White One clinched on the Gray-wolf's nose. The pack was all
+around; we could not help them now.  But they did not need us; they had
+a leader of dauntless mettle, and when in a little while the final
+scene was done, there on the ground lay the Gray-wolf, a giant of his
+kind, and clinched on his nose was the little white Dog.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+We were standing around within fifteen feet, ready to help, but had no
+chance till were not needed.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Wolf was dead, and I hallooed to Snap, but he did not move. I bent
+over him. "Snap&mdash;Snap, it's all over; you've killed him." But the Dog
+was very still, and now I saw two deep wounds in his body.  I tried to
+lift him. "Let go, old fellow; it's all over." He growled feebly, and
+at last go of the Wolf. The rough cattle-men were kneeling around him
+now; old Penroof's voice was trembling as he muttered, "I wouldn't had
+him hurt for twenty steers."  I lifted him in my arms, called to him
+and stroked his head.  He snarled a little, a farewell as it proved,
+for he licked my hand as he did so, then never snarled again.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+That was a sad ride home for me. There was the skin of a monstrous
+Wolf, but no other hint of triumph.  We buried the fearless one on a
+butte back of the Ranch-house.  Penroof, as he stood by, was heard to
+grumble: "By jingo, that was grit&mdash;cl'ar grit!  Ye can't raise Cattle
+without grit."
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="wolf"></A>
+<H2 ALIGN="center">
+THE WINNIPEG WOLF
+</H2>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+I
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+It was during the great blizzard of 1882 that I first met the Winnipeg
+Wolf. I had left St. Paul in the middle of March to cross the prairies
+to Winnipeg, expecting to be there in twenty-four hours, but the Storm
+King had planned it otherwise and sent a heavy-laden eastern blast. The
+snow came down in a furious, steady torrent, hour after hour. Never
+before had I seen such a storm. All the world was lost in snow&mdash;snow,
+snow, snow&mdash;whirling, biting, stinging, drifting snow&mdash;and the puffing,
+monstrous engine was compelled to stop at the command of those tiny
+feathery crystals of spotless purity.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Many strong hands with shovels came to the delicately curled snowdrifts
+that barred our way, and in an hour the engine could pass&mdash;only to
+stick in another drift yet farther on. It was dreary work&mdash;day after
+day, night after night, sticking in the drifts, digging ourselves out,
+and still the snow went whirling and playing about us.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Twenty-two hours to Emerson," said the official; but nearly two weeks
+of digging passed before we did reach Emerson, and the poplar country
+where the thickets stop all drifting of the snow. Thenceforth the train
+went swiftly, the poplar woods grew more thickly&mdash;we passed for miles
+through solid forests, then perhaps through an open space. As we neared
+St. Boniface, the eastern outskirts of Winnipeg, we dashed across a
+little glade fifty yards wide, and there in the middle was a group that
+stirred me to the very soul.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In plain view was a great rabble of Dogs, large and small, black,
+white, and yellow, wriggling and heaving this way and that way in a
+rude ring; to one side was a little yellow Dog stretched and quiet in
+the snow; on the outer part of the ring was a huge black Dog bounding
+about and barking, but keeping ever behind the moving mob. And in the
+midst, the centre and cause of it all, was a great, grim, Wolf.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Wolf? He looked like a Lion. There he stood, all
+alone&mdash;resolute-calm&mdash;with bristling mane, and legs braced firmly,
+glancing this way and that, to be ready for an attack in any direction.
+There was a curl on his lips&mdash;it looked like scorn, but I suppose it
+was really the fighting snarl of tooth display. Led by a
+wolfish-looking Dog that should have been ashamed, the pack dashed in,
+for the twentieth time no doubt. But the great gray form leaped here
+and there, and chop, chop, chop went those fearful jaws, no other sound
+from the lonely warrior; but a death yelp from more than one of his
+foes, as those that were able again sprang back, and left him
+statuesque as before, untamed, unmaimed, and contemptuous of them all.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+How I wished for the train to stick in a snowdrift now, as so often
+before, for all my heart went out to that Gray-wolf; I longed to go and
+help him. But the snow-deep glade flashed by, the poplar trunks shut
+out the view, and we went on to our journey's end.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+This was all I saw, and it seemed little; but before many days had
+passed I knew surely that I had been favored with a view, in broad
+daylight, of a rare and wonderful creature, none less than the Winnipeg
+Wolf.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+His was a strange history&mdash;a Wolf that preferred the city to the
+country, that passed by the Sheep to kill the Dogs, and that always
+hunted alone.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In telling the story of le Garou, as he was called by some, although I
+speak of these things as locally familiar, it is very sure that to many
+citizens of the town they were quite unknown. The smug shopkeeper on
+the main street had scarcely heard of him until the day after the final
+scene at the slaughter-house, when his great carcass was carried to
+Hine's taxidermist shop and there mounted, to be exhibited later at the
+Chicago World's Fair, and to be destroyed, alas! in the fire that
+reduced the Mulvey Grammar School to ashes in 1896.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+II
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+It seems that Fiddler Paul, the handsome ne'er-do-well of the
+half-breed world, readier to hunt than to work, was prowling with his
+gun along the wooded banks of the Red River by Kildonan, one day in the
+June of 1880. He saw a Gray-wolf come out of a hole in a bank and fired
+a chance shot that killed it. Having made sure, by sending in his Dog,
+that no other large Wolf was there, he crawled into the den, and found,
+to his utter amazement and delight, eight young Wolves&mdash;nine bounties
+of ten dollars each. How much is that? A fortune surely. He used a
+stick vigorously, and with the assistance of the yellow Cur, all the
+little ones were killed but one. There is a superstition about the last
+of a brood&mdash;it is not lucky to kill it. So Paul set out for town with
+the scalp of the old Wolf, the scalps of the seven young, and the last
+Cub alive.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The saloon-keeper, who got the dollars for which the scalps were
+exchanged, soon got the living Cub. He grew up at the end of a chain,
+but developed a chest and jaws that no Hound in town could match. He
+was kept in the yard for the amusement of customers, and this amusement
+usually took the form of baiting the captive with Dogs. The young Wolf
+was bitten and mauled nearly to death on several occasions, but he
+recovered, and each month there were fewer Dogs willing to face him.
+His life was as hard as it could be. There was but one gleam of
+gentleness in it all, and that was the friendship that grew up between
+himself and Little Jim, the son of the saloonkeeper.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Jim was a wilful little rascal with a mind of his own. He took to the
+Wolf because it had killed a Dog that had bitten him. He thenceforth
+fed the Wolf and made a pet of it, and the Wolf responded by allowing
+him to take liberties which no one else dared venture.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Jim's father was not a model parent. He usually spoiled his son, but at
+times would get in a rage and beat him cruelly for some trifle. The
+child was quick to learn that he was beaten, not because he had done
+wrong, but because he had made his father angry. If, therefore, he
+could keep out of the way until that anger had cooled, he had no
+further cause for worry. One day, seeking safety in flight with his
+father behind him, he dashed into the Wolf's kennel, and his grizzly
+chum thus unceremoniously awakened turned to the door, displayed a
+double row of ivories, and plainly said to the father: "Don't you dare
+to touch him."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+If Hogan could have shot the Wolf then and there he would have done so,
+but the chances were about equal of killing his son, so he let them
+alone and, half an hour later, laughed at the whole affair. Thenceforth
+Little Jim made for the Wolf's den whenever he was in danger, and
+sometimes the only notice any one had that the boy had been in mischief
+was seeing him sneak in behind the savage captive.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Economy in hired help was a first principle with Hogan. Therefore his
+"barkeep" was a Chinaman. He was a timid, harmless creature, so Paul
+des Roches did not hesitate to bully him. One day, finding Hogan out,
+and the Chinaman alone in charge, Paul, already tipsy, demanded a drink
+on credit, and Tung Ling, acting on standing orders, refused. His
+artless explanation, "No good, neber pay," so far from clearing up the
+difficulty, brought Paul staggering back of the bar to avenge the
+insult. The Celestial might have suffered grievous bodily hurt, but
+that Little Jim was at hand and had a long stick, with which he
+adroitly tripped up the Fiddler and sent him sprawling. He staggered to
+his feet swearing he would have Jim's life. But the child was near the
+back door and soon found refuge in the Wolf's kennel.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Seeing that the boy had a protector, Paul got the long stick, and from
+a safe distance began to belabor the Wolf, The grizzly creature raged
+at the end of the chain, but, though he parried many cruel blows by
+seizing the stick in his teeth, he was suffering severely, when Paul
+realized that Jim, whose tongue had not been idle, was fumbling away
+with nervous fingers to set the Wolf loose, and soon would succeed.
+Indeed, it would have been done already but for the strain that the
+Wolf kept on the chain.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The thought of being in the yard at the mercy of the huge animal that
+he had so enraged, gave the brave Paul a thrill of terror.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Jim's wheedling voice was heard&mdash;"Hold on now, Wolfie; back up just a
+little, and you shall have him. Now do; there's a good Wolfie"&mdash;that
+was enough; the Fiddler fled and carefully closed all doors behind him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Thus the friendship between Jim and his pet grew stronger, and the
+Wolf, as he developed his splendid natural powers, gave daily evidence
+also of the mortal hatred he bore to men that smelt of whiskey and to
+all Dogs, the causes of his sufferings. This peculiarity, coupled with
+his love for the child&mdash;and all children seemed to be included to some
+extent&mdash;grew with his growth and seemed to prove the ruling force of
+his life.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+III
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+At this time&mdash;that is, the fall of 1881&mdash;there were great complaints
+among the Qu'Appelle ranchmen that the Wolves were increasing in their
+country and committing great depredations among the stock. Poisoning
+and trapping had proved failures, and when a distinguished German
+visitor appeared at the Club in Winnipeg and announced that he was
+bringing some Dogs that could easily rid the country of Wolves, he was
+listened to with unusual interest. For the cattle-men are fond of
+sport, and the idea of helping their business by establishing a kennel
+of Wolfhounds was very alluring.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The German soon produced as samples of his Dogs, two magnificent Danes,
+one white, the other blue with black spots and a singular white eye
+that completed an expression of unusual ferocity. Each of these great
+creatures weighed nearly two hundred pounds. They were muscled like
+Tigers, and the German was readily believed when he claimed that these
+two alone were more than a match for the biggest Wolf. He thus
+described their method of hunting: "All you have to do is show them the
+trail and, even if it is a day old, away they go on it. They cannot be
+shaken off. They will soon find that Wolf, no matter how he doubles and
+hides. Then they close on him. He turns to run, the blue Dog takes him
+by the haunch and throws him like this," and the German jerked a roll
+of bread into the air; "then before he touches the ground the white Dog
+has his head, the other his tail, and they pull him apart like that."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It sounded all right; at any rate every one was eager to put it to the
+proof. Several of the residents said there was a fair chance of finding
+a Gray-wolf along the Assiniboine, so a hunt was organized. But they
+searched in vain for three days and were giving it up when some one
+suggested that down at Hogan's saloon was a Wolf chained up, that they
+could get for the value of the bounty, and though little more than a
+year old he would serve to show what the Dogs could do.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The value of Hogan's Wolf went up at once when he knew the importance
+of the occasion; besides, "he had conscientious scruples." All his
+scruples vanished, however, when his views as to price were met. His
+first care was to get Little Jim out of the way by sending him on an
+errand to his grandma's; then the Wolf was driven into his box and
+nailed in. The box was put in a wagon and taken to the open prairie
+along the Portage trail.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Dogs could scarcely be held back, they were so eager for the fray,
+as soon as they smelt the Wolf. But several strong men held their
+leash, the wagon was drawn half a mile farther, and the Wolf was turned
+out with some difficulty. At first he looked scared and sullen. He
+tried to get out of sight, but made no attempt to bite. However, on
+finding himself free, as well as hissed and hooted at, he started off
+at a slinking trot toward the south, where the land seemed broken. The
+Dogs were released at that moment, and, baying furiously, they bounded
+away after the young Wolf. The men cheered loudly and rode behind them.
+From the very first it was clear that he had no chance. The Dogs were
+much swifter; the white one could run like a Greyhound. The German was
+wildly enthusiastic as she flew across the prairie, gaining visibly on
+the Wolf at every second. Many bets were offered on the Dogs, but there
+were no takers. The only bets accepted were Dog against Dog. The young
+Wolf went at speed now, but within a mile the white Dog was right
+behind him&mdash;was closing in.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The German shouted: "Now watch and see that Wolf go up in the air."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In a moment the runners were together. Both recoiled, neither went up
+in the air, but the white Dog rolled over with a fearful gash in her
+shoulder&mdash;out of the fight, if not killed. Ten seconds later the
+Blue-spot arrived, open-mouthed. This meeting was as quick and almost
+as mysterious as the first. The animals barely touched each other. The
+gray one bounded aside, his head out of sight for a moment in the flash
+of quick movement. Spot reeled and showed a bleeding flank. Urged on by
+the men, he assaulted again, but only to get another wound that taught
+him to keep off.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Now came the keeper with four more huge Dogs. They turned these loose,
+and the men armed with clubs and lassos were closing to help in
+finishing the Wolf, when a small boy came charging over the plain on a
+Pony. He leaped to the ground and wriggling through the ring flung his
+arms around the Wolf's neck. He called him his "Wolfie pet," his "dear
+Wolfie"&mdash;the Wolf licked his face and wagged its tail&mdash;then the child
+turned on the crowd and through his streaming tears, he&mdash;Well it would
+not do to print what he said. He was only nine, but he was very
+old-fashioned, as well as a rude little boy. He had been brought up in
+a low saloon, and had been an apt pupil at picking up the vile talk of
+the place. He cursed them one and all and for generations back; he did
+not spare even his own father.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+If a man had used such shocking and insulting language he might have
+been lynched, but coming from a baby, the hunters did not know what to
+do, so finally did the best thing. They laughed aloud&mdash;not at
+themselves, that is not considered good form&mdash;but they all laughed at
+the German whose wonderful Dogs had been worsted by a half-grown Wolf.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Jimmie now thrust his dirty, tear-stained little fist down into his
+very-much-of-a-boy's pocket, and from among marbles and chewing-gum, as
+well as tobacco, matches, pistol cartridges, and other contraband, he
+fished out a flimsy bit of grocer's twine and fastened it around the
+Wolf's neck. Then, still blubbering a little, he set out for home on
+the Pony, leading the Wolf and hurling a final threat and anathema at
+the German nobleman: "Fur two cents I'd sic him on you, gol darn ye."
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+IV
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+Early that winter Jimmie was taken down with a fever. The Wolf howled
+miserably in the yard when he missed his little friend, and finally on
+the boy's demand was admitted to the sick-room, and there this great
+wild Dog&mdash;for that is all a Wolf is&mdash;continued faithfully watching by
+his friend's bedside.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The fever had seemed slight at first, so that every one was shocked
+when there came suddenly a turn for the worse, and three days before
+Christmas Jimmie died. He had no more sincere mourner than his
+"Wolfie." The great gray creature howled in miserable answer to the
+church-bell tolling when he followed the body on Christmas Eve to the
+graveyard at St. Boniface. He soon came back to the premises behind the
+saloon, but when an attempt was made to chain him again, he leaped a
+board fence and was finally lost sight of.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Later that same winter old Renaud, the trapper, with his pretty
+half-breed daughter, Ninette, came to live in a little log-cabin on the
+river bank. He knew nothing about Jimmie Hogan, and he was not a little
+puzzled to find Wolf tracks and signs along the river on both sides
+between St. Boniface and Fort Garry. He listened with interest and
+doubt to tales that the Hudson Bay Company's men told of a great
+Gray-wolf that had come to live in the region about, and even to enter
+the town at night, and that was in particular attached to the woods
+about St. Boniface Church.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+On Christmas Eve of that year when the bell tolled again as it had done
+for Jimmie, a lone and melancholy howling from the woods almost
+convinced Renaud that the stories were true. He knew the
+wolf-cries&mdash;the howl for help, the love song, the lonely wail, and the
+sharp defiance of the Wolves. This was the lonely wail.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The trapper went to the riverside and gave an answering howl. A shadowy
+form left the far woods and crossed on the ice to where the man sat,
+log-still, on a log. It came up near him, circled past and sniffed,
+then its eye glowed; it growled like a Dog that is a little angry, and
+glided back into the night.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Thus Renaud knew, and before long many townfolk began to learn, that a
+huge Gray-wolf was living in their streets, "a Wolf three times as big
+as the one that used to be chained at Hogan's gin-mill." He was the
+terror of Dogs, killing them on all possible occasions, and some said,
+though it was never proven, that he had devoured more than one
+half-breed who was out on a spree.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And this was the Winnipeg Wolf that I had seen that day in the wintry
+woods. I had longed to go to his help, thinking the odds so hopelessly
+against him, but later knowledge changed the thought. I do not know how
+that fight ended, but I do know that he was seen many times afterward
+and some of the Dogs were not.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Thus his was the strangest life that ever his kind had known. Free of
+all the woods and plains, he elected rather to lead a life of daily
+hazard in the town&mdash;each week at least some close escape, and every day
+a day of daring deeds; finding momentary shelter at times under the
+very boardwalk crossings. Hating the men and despising the Dogs, he
+fought his daily way and held the hordes of Curs at bay or slew them
+when he found them few or single; harried the drunkard, evaded men with
+guns, learned traps&mdash;learned poison, too&mdash;just how, we cannot tell, but
+learn it he did, for he passed it again and again, or served it only
+with a Wolf's contempt.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Not a street in Winnipeg that he did not know; not a policeman in
+Winnipeg that had not seen his swift and shadowy form in the gray dawn
+as he passed where he would; not a Dog in Winnipeg that did not cower
+and bristle when the telltale wind brought proof that old Garou was
+crouching near. His only path was the warpath, and all the world his
+foes. But throughout this lurid, semi-mythic record there was one
+recurring pleasant thought&mdash;Garou never was known to harm a child.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+V
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+Ninette was a desert-born beauty like her Indian mother, but gray-eyed
+like her Normandy father, a sweet girl of sixteen, the belle of her
+set. She might have married any one of the richest and steadiest young
+men of the country, but of course, in feminine perversity her heart was
+set on that ne'er-do-well, Paul des Roches. A handsome fellow, a good
+dancer and a fair violinist, Fiddler Paul was in demand at all
+festivities, but he was a shiftless drunkard and it was even whispered
+that he had a wife already in Lower Canada. Renaud very properly
+dismissed him when he came to urge his suit, but dismissed him in vain.
+Ninette, obedient in all else, would not give up her lover. The very
+day after her father had ordered him away she promised to meet him in
+the woods just across the river. It was easy to arrange this, for she
+was a good Catholic, and across the ice to the church was shorter than
+going around by the bridge. As she went through the snowy wood to the
+tryst she noticed that a large gray Dog was following. It seemed quite
+friendly, and the child (for she was still that) had no fear, but when
+she came to the place where Paul was waiting, the gray Dog went forward
+rumbling in its chest. Paul gave one look, knew it for a huge Wolf,
+then fled like the coward he was. He afterward said he ran for his gun.
+He must have forgotten where it was, as he climbed the nearest tree to
+find it. Meanwhile Ninette ran home across the ice to tell Paul's
+friends of his danger. Not finding any firearms up the tree, the
+valiant lover made a spear by fastening his knife to a branch and
+succeeded in giving Garou a painful wound on the head. The savage,
+creature growled horribly but thenceforth kept at a safe distance,
+though plainly showing his intention to wait till the man came down.
+But the approach of a band of rescuers changed his mind, and he went
+away.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Fiddler Paul found it easier to explain matters to Ninette than he
+would to any one else. He still stood first in her affections, but so
+hopelessly ill with her father that they decided on an elopement, as
+soon as he should return from Fort Alexander, whither he was to go for
+the Company, as dog-driver. The Factor was very proud of his train
+Dogs&mdash;three great Huskies with curly, bushy tails, big and strong as
+Calves, but fierce and lawless as pirates. With these the Fiddler Paul
+was to drive to Fort Alexander from Fort Garry&mdash;the bearer of several
+important packets. He was an expert Dog-driver, which usually means
+relentlessly cruel. He set off blithely down the river in the morning,
+after the several necessary drinks of whiskey. He expected to be gone a
+week, and would then come back with twenty dollars in his pocket, and
+having thus provided the sinews of war, would carry out the plan of
+elopement. Away they went down the river on the ice. The big Dogs
+pulled swiftly but sulkily as he cracked the long whip and shouted,
+"Allez, allez, marchez." They passed at speed by Renaud's shanty on the
+bank, and Paul, cracking his whip and running behind the train, waved
+his hand to Ninette as she stood by the door. Speedily the cariole with
+the sulky Dogs and drunken driver disappeared around the bend&mdash;and that
+was the last ever seen of Fiddler Paul.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+That evening the Huskies came back singly to Fort Garry. They were
+spattered with frozen blood, and were gashed in several places. But
+strange to tell they were quite "unhungry."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Runners went on the back trail and recovered the packages. They were
+lying on the ice unharmed. Fragments of the sled were strewn for a mile
+or more up the river; not far from the packages were shreds of clothing
+that had belonged to the Fiddler.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was quite clear, the Dogs had murdered and eaten their driver.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Factor was terribly wrought up over the matter. It might cost him
+his Dogs. He refused to believe the report and set off to sift the
+evidence for himself. Renaud was chosen to go with him, and before they
+were within three miles of the fatal place Renaud pointed to a very
+large track crossing from the east to the west bank of the river, just
+after the Dog sled. He ran it backward for a mile or more on the
+eastern bank, noted how it had walked when the Dogs walked and run when
+they ran, before he turned to the Factor and said: "A beeg Voolf&mdash;he
+come after ze cariole all ze time."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Now they followed the track where it had crossed to the west shore. Two
+miles above Kildonan woods the Wolf had stopped his gallop to walk over
+to the sled trail, had followed it a few yards, then had returned to
+the woods.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Paul he drop somesin' here, ze packet maybe; ze Voolf he come for
+smell. He follow so&mdash;now he know zat eez ze drunken Paul vot slash heem
+on ze head."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+A mile farther the Wolf track came galloping on the ice behind the
+cariole. The man track disappeared now, for the driver had leaped on
+the sled and lashed the Dogs. Here is where he cut adrift the bundles.
+That is why things were scattered over the ice. See how the Dogs were
+bounding under the lash. Here was the Fiddler's knife in the snow. He
+must have dropped it in trying to use it on the Wolf. And here-what!
+the Wolf track disappears, but the sled track speeds along. The Wolf
+has leaped on the sled. The Dogs, in terror, added to their speed; but
+on the sleigh behind them there is a deed of vengeance done. In a
+moment it is over; both roll off the sled; the Wolf track reappears on
+the east side to seek the woods. The sled swerves to the west bank,
+where, after half a mile, it is caught and wrecked on a root.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The snow also told Renaud how the Dogs, entangled in the harness, had
+fought with each other, had cut themselves loose, and trotting homeward
+by various ways up the river, had gathered at the body of their late
+tyrant and devoured him at a meal.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Bad enough for the Dogs, still they were cleared of the murder. That
+certainly was done by the Wolf, and Renaud, after the shock of horror
+was past, gave a sigh of relief and added, "Eet is le Garou. He hab
+save my leel girl from zat Paul. He always was good to children."
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+VI
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+This was the cause of the great final hunt that they fixed for
+Christmas Day just two years after the scene at the grave of Little
+Jim. It seemed as though all the Dogs in the country were brought
+together. The three Huskies were there&mdash;the Factor considered them
+essential&mdash;there were Danes and trailers and a rabble of farm Dogs and
+nondescripts. They spent the morning beating all the woods east of St.
+Boniface and had no success. But a telephone message came that the
+trail they sought had been seen near the Assiniboine woods west of the
+city, and an hour later the hunt was yelling on the hot scent of the
+Winnipeg Wolf.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Away they went, a rabble of Dogs, a motley rout of horsemen, a mob of
+men and boys on foot. Garou had no fear of the Dogs, but men he knew
+had guns and were dangerous. He led off for the dark timber line of the
+Assiniboine, but the horsemen had open country and they headed him
+back. He coursed along the Colony Creek hollow and so eluded the
+bullets already flying. He made for a barb-wire fence, and passing that
+he got rid of the horsemen for a time, but still must keep the hollow
+that baffled the bullets. The Dogs were now closing on him. All he
+might have asked would probably have been to be left alone with
+them&mdash;forty or fifty to one as they were&mdash;he would have taken the odds.
+The Dogs were all around him now, but none dared to close in, A lanky
+Hound, trusting to his speed, ran alongside at length and got a side
+chop from Garou that laid him low. The horsemen were forced to take a
+distant way around, but now the chase was toward the town, and more men
+and Dogs came running out to join the fray.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Wolf turned toward the slaughter-house, a familiar resort, and the
+shooting ceased on account of the houses, as well as the Dogs, being so
+near. These were indeed now close enough to encircle him and hinder all
+further flight. He looked for a place to guard his rear for a final
+stand, and seeing a wooden foot-bridge over a gutter he sprang in,
+there faced about and held the pack at bay. The men got bars and
+demolished the bridge. He leaped out, knowing now that he had to die,
+but ready, wishing only to make a worthy fight, and then for the first
+time in broad day view of all his foes he stood&mdash;the shadowy
+Dog-killer, the disembodied voice of St. Boniface woods, the wonderful
+Winnipeg Wolf.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+VII
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+At last after three long years of fight he stood before them alone,
+confronting twoscore Dogs, and men with guns to back them&mdash;but facing
+them just as resolutely as I saw him that day in the wintry woods. The
+same old curl was on his lips&mdash;the hard-knit flanks heaved just a
+little, but his green and yellow eye glowed steadily. The Dogs closed
+in, led not by the huge Huskies from the woods&mdash;they evidently knew too
+much for that&mdash;but by a Bulldog from the town; there was scuffling of
+many feet; a low rumbling for a time replaced the yapping of the pack;
+a flashing of those red and grizzled jaws, a momentary hurl back of the
+onset, and again he stood alone and braced, the grim and grand old
+bandit that he was. Three times they tried and suffered. Their boldest
+were lying about him. The first to go down was the Bulldog. Learning
+wisdom now, the Dogs held back, less sure; but his square-built chest
+showed never a sign of weakness yet, and after waiting impatiently he
+advanced a few steps, and thus, alas! gave to the gunners their
+long-expected chance. Three rifles rang, and in the snow Garou went
+down at last, his life of combat done.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He had made his choice. His days were short and crammed with quick
+events. His tale of many peaceful years was spent in three of daily
+brunt. He picked his trail, a new trail, high and short. He chose to
+drink his cup at a single gulp, and break the glass-but he left a
+deathless name.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Who can look into the mind of the Wolf? Who can show us his wellspring
+of motive? Why should he still cling to a place of endless tribulation?
+It could not be because he knew no other country, for the region is
+limitless, food is everywhere, and he was known at least as far as
+Selkirk. Nor could his motive be revenge. No animal will give up its
+whole life to seeking revenge; that evil kind of mind is found in man
+alone. The brute creation seeks for peace.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There is then but one remaining bond to chain him, and that the
+strongest claim that anything can own&mdash;the mightiest force on earth.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Wolf is gone. The last relic of him was lost in the burning Grammar
+School, but to this day the sexton of St. Boniface Church avers that
+the tolling bell on Christmas Eve never fails to provoke that weird and
+melancholy Wolf-cry from the wooded graveyard a hundred steps away,
+where they laid his Little Jim, the only being on earth that ever met
+him with the touch of love.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="reindeer"></A>
+<H2 ALIGN="center">
+THE LEGEND OF THE WHITE REINDEER
+</H2>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+  Skoal! Skoal! For Norway Skoal!<BR>
+  Sing ye the song of the Vand-dam troll.<BR>
+  When I am hiding<BR>
+  Norway's luck<BR>
+  On a White Storbuk<BR>
+  Comes riding, riding.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+Bleak, black, deep, and cold is Utrovand, a long pocket of glacial
+water, a crack in the globe, a wrinkle in the high Norwegian mountains,
+blocked with another mountain, and flooded with a frigid flood, three
+thousand feet above its Mother Sea, and yet no closer to its Father Sun.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Around its cheerless shore is a belt of stunted trees, that sends a
+long tail up the high valley, till it dwindles away to sticks and moss,
+as it also does some half-way up the granite hills that rise a thousand
+feet, encompassing the lake. This is the limit of trees, the end of the
+growth of wood. The birch and willow are the last to drop out of the
+long fight with frost. Their miniature thickets are noisy with the
+cries of Fieldfare, Pipit, and Ptarmigan, but these are left behind on
+nearing the upper plateau, where shade of rock and sough of wind are
+all that take their place. The chilly Hoifjeld rolls away, a rugged,
+rocky plain, with great patches of snow in all the deeper hollows, and
+the distance blocked by snowy peaks that rise and roll and whiter
+gleam, till, dim and dazzling in the north, uplifts the Jotunheim, the
+home of spirits, of glaciers, and of the lasting snow.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The treeless stretch is one vast attest to the force of heat. Each
+failure of the sun by one degree is marked by a lower realm of life.
+The northern slope of each hollow is less boreal than its southern
+side. The pine and spruce have given out long ago; the mountain-ash
+went next; the birch and willow climbed up half the slope. Here,
+nothing grows but creeping plants and moss. The plain itself is pale
+grayish green, one vast expanse of reindeer-moss, but warmed at spots
+into orange by great beds of polytrichum, and, in sunnier nooks,
+deepened to a herbal green. The rocks that are scattered everywhere are
+of a delicate lilac, but each is variegated with spreading frill-edged
+plasters of gray-green lichen or orange powder-streaks and beauty-spots
+of black. These rocks have great power to hold the heat, so that each
+of them is surrounded by a little belt of heat-loving plants that could
+not otherwise live so high. Dwarfed representatives of the birch and
+willow both are here, hugging the genial rock, as an old French
+habitant hugs his stove in winter-time, spreading their branches over
+it, instead of in the frigid air. A foot away is seen a chillier belt
+of heath, and farther off, colder, where none else can grow, is the
+omnipresent gray-green reindeer-moss that gives its color to the
+upland. The hollows are still filled with snow, though now it is June.
+But each of these white expanses is shrinking, spending itself in
+ice-cold streams that somehow reach the lake. These snö-flaks show no
+sign of life, not even the 'red-snow' tinge, and around each is a belt
+of barren earth, to testify that life and warmth can never be divorced.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Birdless and lifeless, the gray-green snow-pied waste extends over all
+the stretch that is here between the timber-line and the snow-line,
+above which winter never quits its hold. Farther north both come lower,
+till the timber-line is at the level of the sea; and all the land is in
+that treeless belt called Tundra in the Old World, and Barrens in the
+New, and that everywhere is the Home of the Reindeer&mdash;the Realm of the
+Reindeer-moss.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+I
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+In and out it flew, in and out, over the water and under, as the
+Varsimle', the leader doe of the Reindeer herd, walked past on the
+vernal banks, and it sang:&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Skoal! Skoal! Gamle Norge Skoal!" and more about "a White Reindeer and
+Norway's good luck," as though the singer were gifted with special
+insight.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+When old Sveggum built the Vand-dam on the Lower Hoifjeld, just above
+the Utrovand, and set his ribesten a-going, he supposed that he was the
+owner of it all. But some one was there before him. And in and out of
+the spouting stream this some one dashed, and sang songs that he made
+up to fit the place and the time. He skipped from skjaeke to skjaeke of
+the wheel, and did many things which Sveggum could set down only to
+luck&mdash;whatever that is; and some said that Sveggum's luck was a
+Wheel-troll, a Water-fairy, with a brown coat and a white beard, one
+that lived on land or in water, as he pleased.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But most of Sveggum's neighbors saw only a Fossekal, the little
+Waterfall Bird that came each year and danced in the stream, or dived
+where the pool is deep. And maybe both were right, for some of the very
+oldest peasants will tell you that a Fairy-troll may take the form of a
+man or the form of a bird. Only this bird lived a life no bird can
+live, and sang songs that men never had sung in Norway. Wonderful
+vision had he, and sights he saw that man never saw. For the Fieldfare
+would build before him, and the Lemming fed its brood under his very
+eyes. Eyes were they to see; for the dark speck on Suletind that man
+could barely glimpse was a Reindeer, with half-shed coat, to him and
+the green slime on the Vandren was beautiful green pasture with a
+banquet spread.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Oh, Man is so blind, and makes himself so hated! But Fossekal harmed
+none, so none were afraid of him. Only he sang, and his songs were
+sometimes mixed with fun and prophecy, or perhaps a little scorn.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+From the top of the tassel-birch he could mark the course of the
+Vand-dam stream past the Nystuen hamlet to lose itself in the gloomy
+waters of Utrovand or by a higher flight he could see across the barren
+upland that rolled to Jotunheim in the north.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The great awakening was on now. The springtime had already reached the
+woods; the valleys were a-throb with life; new birds coming from the
+south, winter sleepers reappearing, and the Reindeer that had wintered
+in the lower woods should soon again be seen on the uplands.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Not without a fight do the Frost Giants give up the place so long their
+own; a great battle was in progress; but the Sun was slowly, surely
+winning, and driving them back to their Jotunheim. At every hollow and
+shady place they made another stand, or sneaked back by night, only to
+suffer another defeat. Hard hitters these, as they are stubborn
+fighters; many a granite rock was split and shattered by their blows in
+reckless fight, so that its inner fleshy tints were shown and warmly
+gleamed among the gray-green rocks that dotted the plain, like the
+countless flocks of Thor. More or less of these may be found at every
+place of battle-brunt, and straggled along the slope of Suletind was a
+host that reached for half a mile. But stay! these moved. Not rocks
+were they, but living creatures.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They drifted along erratically, yet one way, all up the wind. They
+swept out of sight in a hollow, to reappear on a ridge much nearer, and
+serried there against the sky, we marked their branching horns, and
+knew them for the Reindeer in their home.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The band came drifting our way, feeding like Sheep, grunting like only
+themselves. Each one found a grazing-spot, stood there till it was
+cleared off, then trotted on crackling hoofs to the front in search of
+another. So the band was ever changing in rank and form. But one there
+was that was always at or near the van&mdash;a large and well-favored
+Simle', or Hind. However much the band might change and spread, she was
+in the forefront, and the observant would soon have seen signs that she
+had an influence over the general movement&mdash;that she, indeed, was the
+leader. Even the big Bucks, in their huge velvet-clad antlers, admitted
+this untitular control; and if one, in a spirit of independence,
+evinced a disposition to lead elsewhere, he soon found himself
+uncomfortably alone.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Varsimle', or leading Hind, had kept the band hovering, for the
+last week or two, along the timber-line, going higher each day to the
+baring uplands, where the snow was clearing and the deer-flies were
+blown away. As the pasture zone had climbed she had followed in her
+daily foraging, returning to the sheltered woods at sundown, for the
+wild things fear the cold night wind even as man does. But now the
+deer-flies were rife in the woods, and the rocky hillside nooks warm
+enough for the nightly bivouac, so the woodland was deserted.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Probably the leader of a band of animals does not consciously pride
+itself on leadership, yet has an uncomfortable sensation when not
+followed. But there are times with all when solitude is sought. The
+Varsimle' had been fat and well through the winter, yet now was
+listless, and lingered with drooping head as the grazing herd moved
+past her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Sometimes she stood gazing blankly while the unchewed bunch of moss
+hung from her mouth, then roused to go on to the front as before; but
+the spells of vacant stare and the hankering to be alone grew stronger.
+She turned downward to seek the birch woods, but the whole band turned
+with her. She stood stock-still, with head down. They grazed and
+grunted past, leaving her like a statue against the hillside. When all
+had gone on, she slunk quietly away; walked a few steps, looked about,
+made a pretense of grazing, snuffed the ground, looked after the herd,
+and scanned the hills; then downward fared toward the sheltering woods.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Once as she peered over a bank she sighted another Simle', a doe
+Reindeer, uneasily wandering by itself. But the Varsimle' wished not
+for company. She did not know why, but she felt that she must hide away
+somewhere.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She stood still until the other had passed on, then turned aside, and
+went with faster steps and less wavering, till she came in view of
+Utrovand, away down by the little stream that turns old Sveggum's
+ribesten. Up above the dam she waded across the limpid stream, for
+deep-laid and sure is the instinct of a wild animal to put running
+water between itself and those it shuns. Then, on the farther bank, now
+bare and slightly green, she turned, and passing in and out among the
+twisted trunks, she left the noisy Vand-dam. On the higher ground
+beyond she paused, looked this way and that, went on a little, but
+returned; and here, completely shut in by softly painted rocks, and
+birches wearing little springtime hangers, she seemed inclined to rest;
+yet not to rest, for she stood uneasily this way and that, driving away
+the flies that settled on her legs, heeding not at all the growing
+grass, and thinking she was hid from all the world.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But nothing escapes the Fossekal. He had seen her leave the herd, and
+now he sat on a gorgeous rock that overhung, and sang as though he had
+waited for this and knew that the fate of the nation might turn on what
+passed in this far glen. He sang:
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+  Skoal! Skoal! For Norway Skoal!<BR>
+  Sing ye the song of the Vand-dam troll.<BR>
+  When I am hiding<BR>
+  Norway's luck<BR>
+  On a White Storbuk<BR>
+  Comes riding, riding.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+There are no Storks in Norway, and yet an hour later there was a
+wonderful little Reindeer lying beside the Varsimle'. She was brushing
+his coat, licking and mothering him, proud and happy as though this was
+the first little Renskalv ever born. There might be hundreds born in
+the herd that month, but probably no more like this one, for he was
+snowy white, and the song of the singer on the painted rock was about
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+  Good luck, good luck,<BR>
+  And a White Storbuk,<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent">
+as though he foresaw clearly the part that the White Calf was to play
+when he grew to be a Storbuk.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But another wonder now came to pass. Before an hour, there was a second
+little Calf&mdash;a brown one this time. Strange things happen, and hard
+things are done when they needs must. Two hours later, when the
+Varsimle' led the White Calf away from the place, there was no Brown
+Calf, only some flattened rags with calf-hair on them.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The mother was wise: better one strongling than two weaklings. Within a
+few days the Simle' once more led the band, and running by her side was
+the White Calf. The Varsimle' considered him in all things, so that he
+really set the pace for the band, which suited very well all the
+mothers that now had Calves with them. Big, strong, and wise was the
+Varsimle', in the pride of her strength, and this White Calf was the
+flower of her prime. He often ran ahead of his mother as she led the
+herd, and Rol, coming on them one day, laughed aloud at the sight as
+they passed, old and young, fat Simle' and antlered Storbuk, a great
+brown herd, all led, as it seemed, by a little White Calf.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+So they drifted away to the high mountains, to be gone all summer.
+"Gone to be taught by the spirits who dwell where the Black  Loon
+laughs on the ice," said Lief of the Lower Dale; but Sveggum, who had
+always been among the Reindeer, said: "Their mothers are the teachers,
+even as ours are."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+When the autumn came, old Sveggum saw a moving sno-flack far off on the
+brown moor-land; but the Troll saw a white yearling, a Nekbuk; and when
+they ranged alongside of Utrovand to drink, the still sheet seemed
+fully to reflect the White One, though it barely sketched in the
+others, with the dark hills behind.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Many a little Calf had come that spring, and had drifted away on the
+moss-barrens, to come back no more; for some were weaklings and some
+were fools; some fell by the way, for that is law; and some would not
+learn the rules, and so died. But the White Calf was strongest of them
+all, and he was wise, so he learned of his mother, who was wisest of
+them all. He learned that the grass on the sun side of a rock is sweet,
+and though it looks the same in the dark hollows, it is there
+worthless. He learned that when his mother's hoofs crackled he must be
+up and moving, and when all the herd's hoofs crackled there was danger,
+and he must keep by his mother's side. For this crackling is like the
+whistling of a Whistler Duck's wings: it is to keep the kinds together.
+He learned that where the little Bomuldblomster hangs its Cotton tufts
+is dangerous bog; that the harsh cackle of the Ptarmigan means that
+close at hand are Eagles, as dangerous for Fawn as for Bird. He learned
+that the little troll-berries are deadly, that when the verra-flies
+come stinging he must take refuge on a snow-patch, and that of all
+animal smells only that of his mother was to be fully trusted. He
+learned that he was growing. His flat calf sides and big joints were
+changing to the full barrel and clean limbs of the Yearling, and the
+little bumps which began to show on his head when he was only a
+fortnight old were now sharp, hard spikes that could win in fight.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+More than once they had smelt that dreaded destroyer of the north that
+men call the Gjerv or Wolverene; and one day, as this danger-scent came
+suddenly and in great strength, a huge blot of dark brown sprang
+rumbling from a rocky ledge, and straight for the foremost&mdash;the White
+Calf. His eye caught the flash of a whirling, shaggy mass, with
+gleaming teeth and eyes, hot-breathed and ferocious. Blank horror set
+his hair on end; his nostrils flared in fear: but before he fled there
+rose within another feeling&mdash;one of anger at the breaker of his peace,
+a sense that swept all fear away, braced his legs, and set his horns at
+charge. The brown brute landed with a deep-chested growl, to be
+received on the young one's spikes. They pierced him deeply, but the
+shock was overmuch; it bore the White One down, and he might yet have
+been killed but that his mother, alert and ever near, now charged the
+attacking monster, and heavier, better armed, she hurled and speared
+him to the ground. And the White Calf, with a very demon glare in his
+once mild eyes, charged too; and even after the Wolverene was a mere
+hairy mass, and his mother had retired to feed, he came, snorting out
+his rage, to drive his spikes into the hateful thing, till his snowy
+head was stained with his adversary's blood.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Thus he showed that below the ox-like calm exterior was the fighting
+beast; that he was like the men of the north, rugged, square-built,
+calm, slow to wrath, but when aroused "seeing red."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+When they ranked together by the lake that fall, the Fossekal sang his
+old song:
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+  When I am hiding<BR>
+  Norway's luck<BR>
+  On a White Storbuk<BR>
+  Comes riding, riding,<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent">
+as though this was something he had awaited, then disappeared no one
+knew where. Old Sveggum had seen it flying through the stream, as birds
+fly through the air, walking in the bottom of a deep pond as a
+Ptarmigan walks on the rocks, living as no bird can live; and now the
+old man said it had simply gone southward for the winter. But old
+Sveggum could neither read nor write: how should he know?
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+II
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+Each springtime when the Reindeer passed over Sveggum's mill-run, as
+they moved from the lowland woods to the bleaker shore of Utrovand, the
+Fossekal was there to sing about the White Storbuk, which each year
+became more truly the leader.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+That first spring he stood little higher than a Hare. When he came to
+drink in the autumn, his back was above the rock where Sveggum's stream
+enters Utrovand. Next year he barely passed under the stunted birch,
+and the third year the Fossekal on the painted rock was looking up, not
+down, at him as he passed. This was the autumn when Rol and Sveggum
+sought the Hoifjeld to round up their half-wild herd and select some of
+the strongest for the sled. There was but one opinion about the
+Storbuk. Higher than the others, heavier, white as snow, with a mane
+that swept the shallow drifts, breasted like a Horse and with horns
+like a storm-grown oak, he was king of the herd, and might easily be
+king of the road.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There are two kinds of deer-breakers, as there are two kinds of
+horse-breakers: one that tames and teaches the animal, and gets a
+spirited, friendly helper; one that aims to break its spirit, and gets
+only a sullen slave, ever ready to rebel and wreak its hate. Many a
+Lapp and many a Norsk has paid with his life for brutality to his
+Reindeer, and Rol's days were shortened by his own pulk-Ren. But
+Sveggum was of gentler sort. To him fell the training of the White
+Storbuk. It was slow, for the Buck resented all liberties from man, as
+he did from his brothers; but kindness, not fear, was the power that
+tamed him, and when he had learned to obey and glory in the sled race,
+it was a noble sight to see the great white mild-eyed beast striding
+down the long snow-stretch of Utrovand, the steam jetting from his
+nostrils, the snow swirling up before like the curling waves on a
+steamer's bow, sled, driver, and Deer all dim in flying white.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then came the Yule-tide Fair, with the races on the ice, and Utrovand
+for once was gay. The sullen hills about reechoed with merry shouting.
+The Reindeer races were first, with many a mad mischance for laughter.
+Rol himself was there with his swiftest sled Deer, a tall, dark,
+five-year-old, in his primest prime. But over-eager, over-brutal, he
+harried the sullen, splendid slave till in mid-race&mdash;just when in a way
+to win&mdash;it turned at a cruel blow, and Rol took refuge under the
+upturned sled until it had vented its rage against the wood; and so he
+lost the race, and the winner was the young White Storbuk. Then he won
+the five-mile race around the lake; and for each triumph Sveggum hung a
+little silver bell on his harness, so that now he ran and won to merry
+music.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then came the Horse races,&mdash;running races these; the Reindeer only
+trots,&mdash;and when Balder, the victor Horse, received his ribbon and his
+owner the purse, came Sveggum with all his winnings in his hand, and
+said: "Ho, Lars, thine is a fine Horse, but mine is a better Storbuk;
+let us put our winnings together and race, each his beast, for all."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+A Ren against a Race-horse&mdash;such a race was never seen till now. Off at
+the pistol-crack they flew. "Ho, Balder! (cluck!) Ho, hi, Balder!" Away
+shot the beautiful Racer, and the Storbuk, striding at a slower trot,
+was left behind.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ho, Balder!" "Hi, Storbuk!" How the people cheered as the Horse went
+bounding and gaining! But he had left the line at his top speed; the
+Storbuk's rose as he flew&mdash;faster&mdash;faster. The Pony ceased to gain. A
+mile whirled by; the gap began to close. The Pony had over-spurted at
+the start, but the Storbuk was warming to his work&mdash;striding evenly,
+swiftly, faster yet, as Sveggum cried in encouragement: "Ho, Storbuk!
+good Storbuk!" or talked to him only with a gentle rein. At the
+turning-point the pair were neck and neck; then the Pony&mdash;though well
+driven and well shod-slipped on the ice, and thenceforth held back as
+though in fear, so the Storbuk steamed away. The Pony and his driver
+were far behind when a roar from every human throat in Filefjeld told
+that the Storbuk had passed the wire and won the race. And yet all this
+was before the White Ren had reached the years of his full strength and
+speed.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Once that day Rol essayed to drive the Storbuk. They set off at a good
+pace, the White Buk ready, responsive to the single rein, and his mild
+eyes veiled by his drooping lashes. But, without any reason other than
+the habit of brutality, Rol struck him. In a moment there was a change.
+The Racer's speed was checked, all four legs braced forward till he
+stood; the drooping lids were raised, the eyes rolled&mdash;there was a
+green light in them now. Three puffs of steam were jetted from each
+nostril. Rol shouted, then, scenting danger, quickly upset the sled and
+hid beneath. The Storbuk turned to charge the sled, sniffing and
+tossing the snow with his foot; but little Knute, Sveggum's son, ran
+forward and put his arms around the Storbuk's neck; then the fierce
+look left the Reindeer's eye, and he suffered the child to lead him
+quietly back to the starting-point. Beware, O driver! the Reindeer,
+too, "sees red."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+This was the coming of the White Storbuk for the folk of Filefjeld.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In the two years that followed he became famous throughout that country
+as Sveggum's Storbuk, and many a strange exploit was told of him. In
+twenty minutes he could carry old Sveggum round the six-mile rim of
+Utrovand. When the snow-slide buried all the village of Holaker, it was
+the Storbuk that brought the word for help to Opdalstole and returned
+again over the forty miles of deep snow in seven hours, to carry
+brandy, food, and promise of speedy aid.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+When over-venturesome young Knute Sveggumsen broke through the new thin
+ice of Utrovand, his cry for help brought the Storbuk to the rescue;
+for he was the gentlest of his kind and always ready to come at call.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He brought the drowning boy in triumph to the shore, and as they
+crossed the Vand-dam stream, there was the Troll-bird to sing:
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+  Good luck, good luck,<BR>
+  With the White Storbuk.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent">
+After which he disappeared for months&mdash;doubtless dived into some
+subaqueous cave to feast and revel all winter; although Sveggum did not
+believe it was so.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+III
+</H3>
+
+<P>
+How often is the fate of kingdoms given into child hands, or even
+committed to the care of Bird or Beast! A She-wolf nursed the Roman
+Empire. A Wren pecking crumbs on a drum-head aroused the Orange army,
+it is said, and ended the Stuart reign in Britain. Little wonder, then,
+that to a noble Reindeer Buk should be committed the fate of Norway:
+that the Troll on the wheel should have reason in his rhyme.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+These were troublous times in Scandinavia. Evil men, traitors at heart,
+were sowing dissension between the brothers Norway and Sweden. "Down
+with the Union!" was becoming the popular cry.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Oh, unwise peoples! If only you could have been by Sveggum's wheel to
+hear the Troll when he sang:
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+  The Raven and the Lion<BR>
+  They held the Bear at bay;<BR>
+  But he picked the bones of both<BR>
+  When they quarrelled by the way.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Threats of civil war, of a fight for independence, were heard
+throughout Norway. Meetings were held more or less secretly, and at
+each of them was some one with well-filled pockets and glib tongue, to
+enlarge on the country's wrongs, and promise assistance from an outside
+irresistible power as soon as they showed that they meant to strike for
+freedom. No one openly named the power. That was not necessary; it was
+everywhere felt and understood. Men who were real patriots began to
+believe in it. Their country was wronged. Here was one to set her
+right. Men whose honor was beyond question became secret agents of this
+power. The state was honeycombed and mined; society was a tangle of
+plots. The king was helpless, though his only wish was for the people's
+welfare. Honest and straightforward, what could he do against this
+far-reaching machination? The very advisers by his side were corrupted
+through mistaken patriotism. The idea that they were playing into the
+hands of the foreigner certainly never entered into the minds of these
+dupes&mdash;at least, not those of the rank and file. One or two, tried,
+selected, and bought by the arch-enemy, knew the real object in view,
+and the chief of these was Borgrevinck, a former lansman of Nordlands.
+A man of unusual gifts, a member of the Storthing, a born leader, he
+might have been prime minister long ago, but for the distrust inspired
+by several unprincipled dealings. Soured by what he considered want of
+appreciation, balked in his ambition, he was a ready tool when the
+foreign agent sounded him. At first his patriotism had to be sopped,
+but that necessity disappeared as the game went on, and perhaps he
+alone, of the whole far-reaching conspiracy, was prepared to strike at
+the Union for the benefit of the foreigner.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Plans were being perfected,&mdash;army officers being secretly misled and
+won over by the specious talk of "their country's wrongs," and each
+move made Borgrevinck more surely the head of it all,&mdash;when a quarrel
+between himself and the "deliverer" occurred over the question of
+recompense. Wealth untold they were willing to furnish; but regal
+power, never. The quarrel became more acute. Borgrevinck continued to
+attend all meetings, but was ever more careful to centre all power in
+himself, and even prepared to turn round to the king's party if
+necessary to further his ambition. The betrayal of his followers would
+purchase his own safety. But proofs he must have, and he set about
+getting signatures to a declaration of rights which was simply a veiled
+confession of treason. Many of the leaders he had deluded into signing
+this before the meeting at Laersdalsoren. Here they met in the early
+winter, some twenty of the patriots, some of them men of position, all
+of them men of brains and power. Here, in the close and stifling
+parlor, they planned, discussed, and questioned. Great hopes were
+expressed, great deeds were forecast, in that stove-hot room.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Outside, against the fence, in the winter night, was a Great White
+Reindeer, harnessed to a sled, but lying down with his head doubled
+back on his side as he slept, calm, unthoughtful, ox-like. Which seemed
+likelier to decide the nation's fate, the earnest thinkers indoors, or
+the ox-like sleeper without? Which seemed more vital to Israel, the
+bearded council in King Saul's tent, or the light-hearted shepherd-boy
+hurling stones across the brook at Bethlehem? At Laersdalsoren it was
+as before: deluded by Borgrevinck's eloquent plausibility, all put
+their heads in the noose, their lives and country in his hands, seeing
+in this treacherous monster a very angel of self-sacrificing
+patriotism. All? No, not all. Old Sveggum was there. He could neither
+read nor write. That was his excuse for not signing. He could not read
+a letter in a book, but he could read something of the hearts of men.
+As the meeting broke up he whispered to Axel Tanberg: "Is his own name
+on that paper?" And Axel, starting at the thought, said: "No." Then
+said Sveggum: "I don't trust that man. They ought to know of this at
+Nystuen." For there was to be the really important meeting. But how to
+let them know was the riddle. Borgrevinck was going there at once with
+his fast Horses.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Sveggum's eye twinkled as he nodded toward the Storbuk, standing tied
+to the fence. Borgrevinck leaped into his sleigh and went off at speed,
+for he was a man of energy. Sveggum took the bells from the harness,
+untied the Reindeer, stepped into the pulk. He swung the single rein,
+clucked to the Storbuk, and also turned his head toward Nystuen. The
+fast Horses had a long start, but before they had climbed the eastward
+hill Sveggum needs must slack, so as not to overtake them. He held back
+till they came to the turn above the woods at Maristuen; then he quit
+the road, and up the river flat he sped the Buk, a farther way, but the
+only way to bring them there ahead.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Squeak, crack-squeak, crack-squeak, crack&mdash;at regular intervals from
+the great spreading snow-shoes of the Storbuk, and the steady sough of
+his breath was like the Nordland as she passes up the Hardanger Fjord.
+High up, on the smooth road to the left, they could hear the jingle of
+the horse-bells and the shouting of Borgrevinck's driver, who, under
+orders, was speeding hard for Nystuen.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The highway was a short road and smooth, and the river valley was long
+and rough; but when, in four hours, Borgrevinck got to Nystuen, there
+in the throng was a face that he had just left at Laersdalsoren. He
+appeared not to notice, though nothing ever escaped him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+At Nystuen none of the men would sign. Some one had warned them. This
+was serious; might be fatal at such a critical point. As he thought it
+over, his suspicions turned more and more to Sveggum, the old fool that
+could not write his name at Laersdalsoren. But how did he get there
+before himself with his speedy Horses?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There was a dance at Nystuen that night; the dance was necessary to
+mask the meeting; and during that Borgrevinck learned of the swift
+White Ren.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Nystuen trip had failed, thanks to the speed of the White Buk.
+Borgrevinck must get to Bergen before word of this, or all would be
+lost. There was only one way, to be sure of getting there before any
+one else. Possibly word had already gone from Laersdalsoren. But even
+at that, Borgrevinck could get there and save himself, at the price of
+all Norway, if need be, provided he went with the White Storbuk. He
+would not be denied. He was not the man to give up a point, though it
+took all the influence he could bring to bear, this time, to get old
+Sveggum's leave.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Storbuk was quietly sleeping in the corral when Sveggum came to
+bring him. He rose leisurely, hind legs first, stretched one, then the
+other, curling his tail tight on his back as he did so, shook the hay
+from the great antlers as though they were a bunch of twigs, and slowly
+followed Sveggum at the end of the tight halter. He was so sleepy and
+slow that Borgrevinck impatiently gave him a kick, and got for response
+a short snort from the Buk, and from Sveggum an earnest warning, both
+of which were somewhat scornfully received. The tinkling bells on the
+harness had been replaced, but Borgrevinck wanted them removed. He
+wished to go in silence. Sveggum would not be left behind when his
+favorite Ren went forth, so he was given a seat in the horse-sleigh
+which was to follow, and the driver thereof received from his master a
+secret hint to delay.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then, with papers on his person to death-doom a multitude of misguided
+men, with fiendish intentions in his heart as well as the power to
+carry them out, and with the fate of Norway in his hands, Borgrevinck
+was made secure in the sled, behind the White Storbuk, and sped at dawn
+on his errand of desolation.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+At the word from Sveggum the White Ren set off with a couple of bounds
+that threw Borgrevinck back in the pulk. This angered him, but he
+swallowed his wrath on seeing that it left the horse-sleigh behind. He
+shook the line, shouted, and the Buk settled down to a long, swinging
+trot. His broad hoofs clicked double at every stride. His nostrils, out
+level, puffed steady blasts of steam in the frosty morning as he
+settled to his pace. The pulk's prow cut two long shears of snow, that
+swirled up over man and sled till all were white. And the great ox-eyes
+of the King Ren blazed joyously in the delight of motion, and of
+conquest too, as the sound of the horse-bells faded far behind.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Even masterful Borgrevinck could not but mark with pleasure the noble
+creature that had balked him last night and now was lending its speed
+to his purpose; for it was his intention to arrive hours before the
+horse-sleigh, if possible.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Up the rising road they sped as though downhill, and the driver's
+spirits rose with the exhilarating speed. The snow groaned ceaselessly
+under the prow of the pulk, and the frosty creaking under the hoofs of
+the flying Ren was like the gritting of mighty teeth. Then came the
+level stretch from Nystuen's hill to Dalecarl's, and as they whirled by
+in the early day, little Carl chanced to peep from a window, and got
+sight of the Great White Ren in a white pulk with a white driver, just
+as it is in the stories of the Giants, and clapped his hands, and
+cried, "Good, good!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But his grandfather, when he caught a glimpse of the white wonder that
+went without even sound of bells, felt a cold chill in his scalp, and
+went back to light a candle that he kept at the window till the sun was
+high, for surely this was the Storbuk of Jotunheim.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But the Ren whirled on, and the driver shook the reins and thought only
+of Bergen. He struck the White Steed with the loose end of the rope.
+The Buk gave three great snorts and three great bounds, then faster
+went, and as they passed by Dyrskaur, where the Giant sits on the edge,
+his head was muffled in scud, which means that a storm is coming. The
+Storbuk knew it. He sniffed, and eyed the sky with anxious look, and
+even slacked a little; but Borgrevinck yelled at the speeding beast,
+though going yet as none but he could go, and struck him once, twice,
+and thrice, and harder yet. So the pulk was whirled along like a skiff
+in a steamer's wake; but there was blood in the Storbuk's eye now; and
+Borgrevinck was hard put to balance the sled. The miles flashed by like
+roods till Sveggum's bridge appeared. The storm-wind now was blowing,
+but there was the Troll. Whence came he now, none knew, but there he
+was, hopping on the keystone and singing of
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+  Norway's fate and Norway's luck,<BR>
+  Of the hiding Troll and the riding Buk.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Down the winding highway they came, curving inward as they swung around
+the corner. At the voice on the bridge the Deer threw back his ears and
+slackened his pace. Borgrevinck, not knowing whence it came, struck
+savagely at the Ren. The red light gleamed in those ox-like eyes. He
+snorted in anger and shook the great horns, but he did not stop to
+avenge the blow. For him was a vaster vengeance still. He onward sped
+as before, but from that time Borgrevinck had lost all control. The one
+voice that the Ren would hear had been left behind. They whirled aside,
+off the road, before the bridge was reached. The pulk turned over, but
+righted itself, and Borgrevinck would have been thrown out and killed
+but for the straps. It was not to be so; it seemed rather as though the
+every curse of Norway had been gathered into the sled for a purpose.
+Bruised and battered, he reappeared. The Troll from the bridge leaped
+lightly to the Storbuk's head, and held on to the horns as he danced
+and sang his ancient song, and a new song, too:
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+  Ha! at last! Oh, lucky day,<BR>
+  Norway's curse to wipe away!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Borgrevinck was terrified and furious. He struck harder at the Storbuk
+as he bounded over the rougher snow, and vainly tried to control him.
+He lost his head in fear. He got out his knife, at last, to strike at
+the wild Buk's hamstrings, but a blow from the hoof sent it flying from
+his hand. Their speed on the road was slow to that they now made: no
+longer striding at the trot, but bounding madly, great five-stride
+bounds, the wretched Borgrevinck strapped in the sled, alone and
+helpless through his own contriving, screaming, cursing, and praying.
+The Storbuk with bloodshot eyes, madly steaming, careered up the rugged
+ascent, up to the broken, stormy Hoifjeld; mounting the hills as a
+Petrel mounts the rollers, skimming the flats as a Fulmar skims the
+shore, he followed the trail where his mother had first led his
+tottering steps, up from the Vand-dam nook. He followed the old
+familiar route that he had followed for five years, where the
+white-winged Rype flies aside, where the black rock mountains, shining
+white, come near and block the sky, "where the Reindeer find their
+mysterie."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+On like the little snow-wreath that the storm-wind sends dancing before
+the storm, on like a whirlwind over the shoulder of Suletind, over the
+knees of Torholmenbrae&mdash;the Giants that sit at the gateway. Faster than
+man or beast could follow, up&mdash;up&mdash;up&mdash;and on; and no one saw them go,
+but a Raven that swooped behind, and flew as Raven never flew, and the
+Troll, the same old Troll that sang by the Vand-dam, and now danced and
+sang between the antlers:
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+  Good luck, good luck for Norway<BR>
+  With the White Storbuk comes riding.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Over Tvindehoug they faded like flying scud on the moorlands, on to the
+gloomy distance, away toward Jotunheim, the home of the Evil Spirits,
+the Land of the Lasting Snow. Their every sign and trail was wiped away
+by the drifting storm, and the end of them no man knows.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Norse folk awoke as from a horrid nightmare. Their national ruin
+was averted; there were no deaths, for there were no proofs; and the
+talebearer's strife was ended.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The one earthly sign remaining from that drive is the string of silver
+bells that Sveggum had taken from the Storbuk's neck&mdash;the victory
+bells, each the record of a triumph won; and when the old man came to
+understand, he sighed, and hung to the string a final bell, the largest
+of them all.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Nothing more was ever seen or heard of the creature who so nearly sold
+his country, or of the White Storbuk who balked him. Yet those who live
+near Jotunheim say that on stormy nights, when the snow is flying and
+the wind is raving in the woods, there sometimes passes, at frightful
+speed, an enormous White Reindeer with fiery eyes, drawing a snow-white
+pulk, in which is a screaming wretch in white, and on the head of the
+Deer, balancing by the horns, is a brown-clad, white-bearded Troll,
+bowing and grinning pleasantly at him, and singing
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+  Of Norway's luck<BR>
+  And a White Storbuk&mdash;<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent">
+the same, they say, as the one that with prophetic vision sang by
+Sveggum's Vand-dam on a bygone day when the birches wore their
+springtime hangers, and a great mild-eyed Varsimle' came alone, to go
+away with a little white Renskalv walking slowly, demurely, by her side.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR><BR>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Animal Heroes, by Ernest Thompson Seton
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANIMAL HEROES ***
+
+***** This file should be named 2284-h.htm or 2284-h.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        https://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/8/2284/
+
+Produced by Bill Stoddard.  HTML version by Al Haines.
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+https://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
+
+</pre>
+
+</BODY>
+
+</HTML>
+
+
diff --git a/2284.txt b/2284.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8723d2f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/2284.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,6049 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Animal Heroes, by Ernest Thompson Seton
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Animal Heroes
+
+Author: Ernest Thompson Seton
+
+Posting Date: March 21, 2009 [EBook #2284]
+Release Date: August, 2000
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANIMAL HEROES ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Bill Stoddard.  HTML version by Al Haines.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Animal Heroes
+
+
+by
+
+Ernest Thompson Seton
+
+
+
+
+Note to Reader
+
+A hero is an individual of unusual gifts and achievements. Whether it
+be man or animal, this definition applies; and it is the histories of
+such that appeal to the imagination and to the hearts of those who hear
+them.
+
+In this volume every one of the stories, though more or less composite,
+is founded on the actual life of a veritable animal hero. The most
+composite is the White Reindeer. This story I wrote by Utrovand in
+Norway during the summer of 1900, while the Reindeer herds grazed in
+sight on the near uplands.
+
+The Lynx is founded on some of my own early experiences in the
+backwoods.
+
+It is less than ten years since the 'Jack Warhorse' won his hero-crown.
+Thousands of "Kaskadoans" will remember him, and by the name Warhorse
+his coursing exploits are recorded in several daily papers.
+
+The least composite is Arnaux. It is so nearly historical that several
+who knew the bird have supplied additional items of information.
+
+The nest of the destroying Peregrines, with its owners and their young,
+is now to be seen in the American Museum of Natural History of New
+York. The Museum authorities inform me that Pigeon badges with the
+following numbers were found in the nest: 9970-S, 1696, U. 63, 77, J.
+F. 52, Ex. 705, 6-1894, C 20900. Perhaps some Pigeon-lover may learn
+from these lines the fate of one or other wonderful flier that has long
+been recorded "never returned."
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+  THE SLUM CAT
+  ARNAUX--The Chronicle of a Homing Pigeon
+  BADLANDS BILLY--The Wolf that Won
+  THE BOY AND THE LYNX
+  LITTLE WARHORSE--The History of a Jack-rabbit
+  SNAP--The Story of a Bull-Terrier
+  THE WINNIPEG WOLF
+  THE LEGEND OF THE WHITE REINDEER
+
+
+
+
+THE SLUM CAT
+
+LIFE I
+
+I
+
+"M-e-a-t! M-e-a-t!" came shrilling down Scrimper's Alley. Surely the
+Pied Piper of Hamelin was there, for it seemed that all the Cats in the
+neighborhood were running toward the sound, though the Dogs, it must be
+confessed, looked scornfully indifferent.
+
+"Meat! Meat!" and louder; then the centre of attraction came in view--a
+rough, dirty little man with a push-cart; while straggling behind him
+were a score of Cats that joined in his cry with a sound nearly the
+same as his own. Every fifty yards, that is, as soon as a goodly throng
+of Cats was gathered, the push-cart stopped. The man with the magic
+voice took out of the box in his cart a skewer on which were pieces of
+strong-smelling boiled liver. With a long stick he pushed the pieces
+off. Each Cat seized on one, and wheeling, with a slight depression of
+the ears and a little tiger growl and glare, she rushed away with her
+prize to devour it in some safe retreat.
+
+"Meat! Meat!" And still they came to get their portions. All were well
+known to the meat-man. There was Castiglione's Tiger; this was Jones's
+Black; here was Pralitsky's "Torkershell," and this was Madame Danton's
+White; there sneaked Blenkinshoff's Maltee, and that climbing on the
+barrow was Sawyer's old Orange Billy, an impudent fraud that never had
+had any financial backing,--all to be remembered and kept in account.
+This one's owner was sure pay, a dime a week; that one's doubtful.
+There was John Washee's Cat, that got only a small piece because John
+was in arrears. Then there was the saloon-keeper's collared and
+ribboned ratter, which got an extra lump because the 'barkeep' was
+liberal; and the rounds-man's Cat, that brought no cash, but got
+unusual consideration because the meat-man did. But there were others.
+A black Cat with a white nose came rushing confidently with the rest,
+only to be repulsed savagely. Alas! Pussy did not understand. She had
+been a pensioner of the barrow for months. Why this unkind change? It
+was beyond her comprehension. But the meat-man knew. Her mistress had
+stopped payment. The meat-man kept no books but his memory, and it
+never was at fault.
+
+Outside this patrician 'four hundred' about the barrow, were other
+Cats, keeping away from the push-cart because they were not on the
+list, the Social Register as it were, yet fascinated by the heavenly
+smell and the faint possibility of accidental good luck. Among these
+hangers-on was a thin gray Slummer, a homeless Cat that lived by her
+wits--slab-sided and not over-clean. One could see at a glance that she
+was doing her duty by a family in some out-of-the-way corner. She kept
+one eye on the barrow circle and the other on the possible Dogs.
+
+She saw a score of happy Cats slink off with their delicious 'daily'
+and their tiger-like air, but no opening for her, till a big Tom of her
+own class sprang on a little pensioner with intent to rob. The victim
+dropped the meat to defend herself against the enemy, and before the
+'all-powerful' could intervene, the gray Slummer saw her chance, seized
+the prize, and was gone.
+
+She went through the hole in Menzie's side door and over the wall at
+the back, then sat down and devoured the lump of liver, licked her
+chops, felt absolutely happy, and set out by devious ways to the
+rubbish-yard, where, in the bottom of an old cracker-box, her family
+was awaiting her. A plaintive mewing reached her ears. She went at
+speed and reached the box to see a huge Black Tom-cat calmly destroying
+her brood. He was twice as big as she, but she went at him with all her
+strength, and he did as most animals will do when caught wrong-doing,
+he turned and ran away. Only one was left, a little thing like its
+mother, but of more pronounced color--gray with black spots, and a
+white touch on nose, ears, and tail-tip. There can be no question of
+the mother's grief for a few days; but that wore off, and all her care
+was for the survivor. That benevolence was as far as possible from the
+motives of the murderous old Tom there can be no doubt; but he proved a
+blessing in deep disguise, for both mother and Kit were visibly
+bettered in a short time. The daily quest for food continued. The
+meat-man rarely proved a success, but the ash-cans were there, and if
+they did not afford a meat-supply, at least they were sure to produce
+potato-skins that could be used to allay the gripe of hunger for
+another day.
+
+One night the mother Cat smelt a wonderful smell that came from the
+East River at the end of the alley. A new smell always needs
+investigating, and when it is attractive as well as new, there is but
+one course open. It led Pussy to the docks a block away, and then out
+on a wharf, away from any cover but the night. A sudden noise, a growl
+and a rush, were the first notice she had that she was cut off by her
+old enemy, the Wharf Dog. There was only one escape. She leaped from
+the wharf to the vessel from which the smell came. The Dog could not
+follow, so when the fish-boat sailed in the morning Pussy unwillingly
+went with her and was seen no more.
+
+
+II
+
+The Slum Kitten waited in vain for her mother. The morning came and
+went. She became very hungry. Toward evening a deep-laid instinct drove
+her forth to seek food. She slunk out of the old box, and feeling her
+way silently among the rubbish, she smelt everything that seemed
+eatable, but without finding food. At length she reached the wooden
+steps leading down into Jap Malee's bird-store underground. The door
+was open a little. She wandered into a world of rank and curious smells
+and a number of living things in cages all about her. A negro was
+sitting idly on a box in a corner. He saw the little stranger enter and
+watched it curiously. It wandered past some Rabbits. They paid no heed.
+It came to a wide-barred cage in which was a Fox. The gentleman with
+the bushy tail was in a far corner. He crouched low; his eyes glowed.
+The Kitten wandered, sniffing, up to the bars, put its head in, sniffed
+again, then made toward the feed-pan, to be seized in a flash by the
+crouching Fox. It gave a frightened "mew," but a single shake cut that
+short and would have ended Kitty's nine lives at once, had not the
+negro come to the rescue. He had no weapon and could not get into the
+cage, but he spat with such copious vigor in the Fox's face that he
+dropped the Kitten and returned to the corner, there to sit blinking
+his eyes in sullen fear.
+
+The negro pulled the Kitten out. The shake of the beast of prey seemed
+to have stunned the victim, really to have saved it much suffering. The
+Kitten seemed unharmed, but giddy. It tottered in a circle for a time,
+then slowly revived, and a few minutes later was purring in the negro's
+lap, apparently none the worse, when Jap Malee, the bird-man, came home.
+
+Jap was not an Oriental; he was a full-blooded Cockney, but his eyes
+were such little accidental slits aslant in his round, flat face, that
+his first name was forgotten in the highly descriptive title of "Jap."
+He was not especially unkind to the birds and beasts whose sales were
+supposed to furnish his living, but his eye was on the main chance; he
+knew what he wanted. He didn't want the Slum Kitten.
+
+The negro gave it all the food it could eat, then carried it to a
+distant block and dropped it in a neighboring iron-yard.
+
+
+III
+
+One full meal is as much as any one needs in two or three days, and
+under the influence of this stored-up heat and power, Kitty was very
+lively. She walked around the piled-up rubbish, cast curious glances on
+far-away Canary-birds in cages that hung from high windows; she peeped
+over fences, discovered a large Dog, got quietly down again, and
+presently finding a sheltered place in full sunlight, she lay down and
+slept for an hour. A slight 'sniff' awakened her, and before her stood
+a large Black Cat with glowing green eyes, and the thick neck and
+square jaws that distinguish the Tom; a scar marked his cheek, and his
+left ear was torn. His look was far from friendly; his ears moved
+backward a little, his tail twitched, and a faint, deep sound came from
+his throat. The Kitten innocently walked toward him. She did not
+remember him. He rubbed the sides of his jaws on a post, and quietly,
+slowly turned and disappeared. The last that she saw of him was the end
+of his tail twitching from side to side; and the little Slummer had no
+idea that she had been as near death to-day, as she had been when she
+ventured into the fox-cage.
+
+As night came on the Kitten began to feel hungry. She examined
+carefully the long invisible colored stream that the wind is made of.
+She selected the most interesting of its strands, and, nose-led,
+followed. In the corner of the iron-yard was a box of garbage. Among
+this she found something that answered fairly well for food; a bucket
+of water under a faucet offered a chance to quench her thirst.
+
+The night was spent chiefly in prowling about and learning the main
+lines of the iron-yard. The next day she passed as before, sleeping in
+the sun. Thus the time wore on. Sometimes she found a good meal at the
+garbage-box, sometimes there was nothing. Once she found the big Black
+Tom there, but discreetly withdrew before he saw her. The water-bucket
+was usually at its place, or, failing that, there were some muddy
+little pools on the stone below. But the garbage-box was very
+unreliable. Once it left her for three days without food. She searched
+along the high fence, and seeing a small hole, crawled through that and
+found herself in the open street. This was a new world, but before she
+had ventured far, there was a noisy, rumbling rush--a large Dog came
+bounding, and Kitty had barely time to run back into the hole in the
+fence. She was dreadfully hungry, and glad to find some old
+potato-peelings, which gave a little respite from the hunger-pang. In
+the morning she did not sleep, but prowled for food. Some Sparrows
+chirruped in the yard. They were often there, but now they were viewed
+with new eyes. The steady pressure of hunger had roused the wild hunter
+in the Kitten; those Sparrows were game--were food. She crouched
+instinctively and stalked from cover to cover, but the chirpers were
+alert and flew in time. Not once, but many times, she tried without
+result except to confirm the Sparrows in the list of things to be eaten
+if obtainable.
+
+On the fifth day of ill luck the Slum Kitty ventured forth into the
+street, desperately bent on finding food. When far from the haven hole
+some small boys opened fire at her with pieces of brick. She ran in
+fear. A Dog joined in the chase, and Kitty's position grew perilous;
+but an old-fashioned iron fence round a house-front was there, and she
+slipped in between the rails as the Dog overtook her. A woman in a
+window above shouted at the Dog. Then the boys dropped a piece of
+cat-meat down to the unfortunate; and Kitty had the most delicious meal
+of her life. The stoop afforded a refuge. Under this she sat patiently
+till nightfall came with quiet, then sneaked back like a shadow to her
+old iron-yard.
+
+Thus the days went by for two months. She grew in size and strength and
+in an intimate knowledge of the immediate neighborhood. She made the
+acquaintance of Downey Street, where long rows of ash-cans were to be
+seen every morning. She formed her own ideas of their proprietors. The
+big house was to her, not a Roman Catholic mission, but a place whose
+garbage-tins abounded in choicest fish scrapings. She soon made the
+acquaintance of the meat-man, and joined in the shy fringe of Cats that
+formed the outer circle. She also met the Wharf Dog as well as two or
+three other horrors of the same class. She knew what to expect of them
+and how to avoid them; and she was happy in being the inventor of a new
+industry. Many thousand Cats have doubtless hung, in hope, about the
+tempting milk-cans that the early milk-man leaves on steps and
+window-ledges, and it was by the merest accident that Kitty found one
+with a broken lid, and so was taught to raise it and have a satisfying
+drink. Bottles, of course, were beyond her, but many a can has a misfit
+lid, and Kitty was very painstaking in her efforts to discover the
+loose-jointed ones. Finally she extended her range by exploration till
+she achieved the heart of the next block, and farther, till once more
+among the barrels and boxes of the yard behind the bird-man's cellar.
+
+The old iron-yard never had been home, she had always felt like a
+stranger there; but here she had a sense of ownership, and at once
+resented the presence of another small Cat. She approached this
+newcomer with threatening air. The two had got as far as snarling and
+spitting when a bucket of water from an upper window drenched them both
+and effectually cooled their wrath. They fled, the newcomer over the
+wall, Slum Kitty under the very box where she had been born. This whole
+back region appealed to her strongly, and here again she took up her
+abode. The yard had no more garbage food than the other and no water at
+all, but it was frequented by stray Rats and a few Mice of the finest
+quality; these were occasionally secured, and afforded not only a
+palatable meal, but were the cause of her winning a friend.
+
+
+IV
+
+Kitty was now fully grown. She was a striking-looking Cat of the tiger
+type. Her marks were black on a very pale gray, and the four
+beauty-spots of white on nose, ears, and tail-tip lent a certain
+distinction. She was very expert at getting a living, and yet she had
+some days of starvation and failed in her ambition of catching a
+Sparrow. She was quite alone, but a new force was coming into her life.
+
+She was lying in the sun one August day, when a large Black Cat came
+walking along the top of a wall in her direction. She recognized him at
+once by his torn ear. She slunk into her box and hid. He picked his way
+gingerly, bounded lightly to a shed that was at the end of the yard,
+and was crossing the roof when a Yellow Cat rose up. The Black Torn
+glared and growled, so did the Yellow Tom. Their tails lashed from side
+to side. Strong throats growled and yowled. They approached each other
+with ears laid back, with muscles a-tense.
+
+"Yow-yow-ow!" said the Black One.
+
+"Wow-w-w!" was the slightly deeper answer.
+
+"Ya-wow-wow-wow!" said the Black One, edging up half an inch nearer.
+
+"Yow-w-w!" was the Yellow answer, as the blond Cat rose to full height
+and stepped with vast dignity a whole inch forward. "Yow-w!" and he
+went another inch, while his tail went swish, thump, from one side to
+the other.
+
+"Ya-wow-yow-w!" screamed the Black in a rising tone, and he backed the
+eighth of an inch, as he marked the broad, unshrinking breast before
+him.
+
+Windows opened all around, human voices were heard, but the Cat scene
+went on.
+
+"Yow-yow-ow!" rumbled the Yellow Peril, his voice deepening as the
+other's rose.
+
+"Yow!" and he advanced another step.
+
+Now their noses were but three inches apart; they stood sidewise, both
+ready to clinch, but each waiting for the other. They glared for three
+minutes in silence and like statues, except that each tail-tip was
+twisting.
+
+The Yellow began again. "Yow-ow-ow!" in deep tone.
+
+"Ya-a-a--a-a!" screamed the Black, with intent to strike terror by his
+yell; but he retreated one sixteenth of an inch. The Yellow walked up a
+long half-inch; their whiskers were mixing now; another advance, and
+their noses almost touched.
+
+"Yo-w-w!" said Yellow, like a deep moan.
+
+"Y-a-a-a-a-a-a!" screamed the Black, but he retreated a thirty-second
+of an inch, and the Yellow Warrior closed and clinched like a demon.
+
+Oh, how they rolled and bit and tore, especially the Yellow One!
+
+How they pitched and gripped and hugged, but especially the Yellow One!
+
+Over and over, sometimes one on top, sometimes another, but mostly the
+Yellow One; and farther till they rolled off the roof, amid cheers from
+all the windows. They lost not a second in that fall to the junk-yard;
+they tore and clawed all the way down, but especially the Yellow One.
+And when they struck the ground, still fighting, the one on top was
+chiefly the Yellow One; and before they separated both had had as much
+as they wanted, especially the Black One! He scaled a wall and,
+bleeding and growling, disappeared, while the news was passed from
+window to window that Cayley's Nig had been licked at last by Orange
+Billy.
+
+Either the Yellow Cat was a very clever seeker, or else Slum Kitty did
+not hide very hard; but he discovered her among the boxes, and she made
+no attempt to get away, probably because she had witnessed the fight.
+There is nothing like success in warfare to win the female heart, and
+thereafter the Yellow Tom and Kitty became very good friends, not
+sharing each other's lives or food,--Cats do not do that way much,--but
+recognizing each other as entitled to special friendly privileges.
+
+
+V
+
+September had gone. October's shortening days were on when an event
+took place in the old cracker-box. If Orange Billy had come he would
+have seen five little Kittens curled up in the embrace of their mother,
+the little Slum Cat. It was a wonderful thing for her. She felt all the
+elation an animal mother can feel, all the delight, and she loved them
+and licked them with a tenderness that must have been a surprise to
+herself, had she had the power to think of such things.
+
+She had added a joy to her joyless life, but she had also added a care
+and a heavy weight to her heavy load. All her strength was taken now to
+find food. The burden increased as the offspring grew up big enough to
+scramble about the boxes, which they did daily during her absence after
+they were six weeks old. That troubles go in flocks and luck in
+streaks, is well known in Slumland. Kitty had had three encounters with
+Dogs, and had been stoned by Malee's negro during a two days' starve.
+Then the tide turned. The very next morning she found a full milk-can
+without a lid, successfully robbed a barrow pensioner, and found a big
+fish-head, all within two hours. She had just returned with that
+perfect peace which comes only of a full stomach, when she saw a little
+brown creature in her junk-yard. Hunting memories came back in
+strength; she didn't know what it was, but she had killed and eaten
+several Mice, and this was evidently a big Mouse with bob-tail and
+large ears. Kitty stalked it with elaborate but unnecessary caution;
+the little Rabbit simply sat up and looked faintly amused. He did not
+try to run, and Kitty sprang on him and bore him off. As she was not
+hungry, she carried him to the cracker-box and dropped him among the
+Kittens. He was not much hurt. He got over his fright, and since he
+could not get out of the box, he snuggled among the Kittens, and when
+they began to take their evening meal he very soon decided to join
+them. The old Cat was puzzled. The hunter instinct had been dominant,
+but absence of hunger had saved the Rabbit and given the maternal
+instinct a chance to appear. The result was that the Rabbit became a
+member of the family, and was thenceforth guarded and fed with the
+Kittens.
+
+Two weeks went by. The Kittens romped much among the boxes during their
+mother's absence. The Rabbit could not get out of the box. Jap Malee,
+seeing the Kittens about the back yard, told the negro to shoot them.
+This he was doing one morning with a 22-calibre rifle. He had shot one
+after another and seen them drop from sight into the crannies of the
+lumber-pile, when the old Cat came running along the wall from the
+dock, carrying a small Wharf Rat. He had been ready to shoot her, too,
+but the sight of that Rat changed his plans: a rat-catching Cat was
+worthy to live. It happened to be the very first one she had ever
+caught, but it saved her life. She threaded the lumber-maze to the
+cracker-box and was probably puzzled to find that there were no Kittens
+to come at her call, and the Rabbit would not partake of the Rat. Pussy
+curled up to nurse the Rabbit, but she called from time to time to
+summon the Kittens. Guided by that call, the negro crawled quietly to
+the place, and peering down into the cracker-box, saw, to his intense
+surprise, that it contained the old Cat, a live Rabbit, and a dead Rat.
+
+The mother Cat laid back her ears and snarled. The negro withdrew, but
+a minute later a board was dropped on the opening of the cracker-box,
+and the den with its tenants, dead and alive, was lifted into the
+bird-cellar.
+
+"Say, boss, look a-hyar--hyar's where de little Rabbit got to wot we
+lost. Yo' sho t'ought Ah stoled him for de 'tater-bake."
+
+Kitty and Bunny were carefully put in a large wire cage and exhibited
+as a happy family till a few days later, when the Rabbit took sick and
+died.
+
+Pussy had never been happy in the cage. She had enough to eat and
+drink, but she craved her freedom--would likely have gotten 'death or
+liberty' now, but that during the four days' captivity she had so
+cleaned and slicked her fur that her unusual coloring was seen, and Jap
+decided to keep her.
+
+
+
+LIFE II
+
+VI
+
+Jap Malee was as disreputable a little Cockney bantam as ever sold
+cheap Canary-birds in a cellar. He was extremely poor, and the negro
+lived with him because the 'Henglish-man' was willing to share bed and
+board, and otherwise admit a perfect equality that few Americans
+conceded. Jap was perfectly honest according to his lights, but he
+hadn't  any lights; and it was well known that his chief revenue was
+derived from storing and restoring stolen Dogs and Cats. The half-dozen
+Canaries were mere blinds. Yet Jap believed in himself. "Hi tell you,
+Sammy, me boy, you'll see me with 'orses of my own yet," he would say,
+when some trifling success inflated his dirty little chest. He was not
+without ambition, in a weak, flabby, once-in-a-while way, and he
+sometimes wished to be known as a fancier. Indeed, he had once gone the
+wild length of offering a Cat for exhibition at the Knickerbocker High
+Society Cat and Pet Show, with three not over-clear objects: first, to
+gratify his ambition; second, to secure the exhibitor's free pass; and,
+third, "well, you kneow, one 'as to kneow the valuable Cats, you kneow,
+when one goes a-catting." But this was a society show, the exhibitor
+had to be introduced, and his miserable alleged half-Persian was
+scornfully rejected. The 'Lost and Found' columns of the papers were
+the only ones of interest to Jap, but he had noticed and saved a
+clipping about 'breeding for fur.' This was stuck on the wall of his
+den, and under its influence he set about what seemed a cruel
+experiment with the Slum Cat. First, he soaked her dirty fur with stuff
+to kill the two or three kinds of creepers she wore; and, when it had
+done its work, he washed her thoroughly in soap and warm water, in
+spite of her teeth, claws, and yowls. Kitty was savagely indignant, but
+a warm and happy glow spread over her as she dried off in a cage near
+the stove, and her fur began to fluff out with wonderful softness and
+whiteness. Jap and his assistant were much pleased with the result, and
+Kitty ought to have been. But this was preparatory: now for the
+experiment. "Nothing is so good for growing fur as plenty of oily food
+and continued exposure to cold weather," said the clipping. Winter was
+at hand, and Jap Malee put Kitty's cage out in the yard, protected only
+from the rain and the direct wind, and fed her with all the oil-cake
+and fish-heads she could eat. In a week a change began to show. She was
+rapidly getting fat and sleek--she had nothing to do but get fat and
+dress her fur. Her cage was kept clean, and nature responded to the
+chill weather and the oily food by making Kitty's coat thicker and
+glossier every day, so that by midwinter she was an unusually beautiful
+Cat in the fullest and finest of fur, with markings that were at least
+a rarity. Jap was much pleased with the result of the experiment, and
+as a very little success had a wonderful effect on him, he began to
+dream of the paths of glory. Why not send the Slum Cat to the show now
+coming on? The failure of the year before made him more careful as to
+details. "'T won't do, ye kneow, Sammy, to henter 'er as a tramp Cat,
+ye kneow," he observed to his help; "but it kin be arranged to suit the
+Knickerbockers. Nothink like a good noime, ye kneow. Ye see now it had
+orter be 'Royal' somethink or other--nothink goes with the
+Knickerbockers like 'Royal' anythink. Now 'Royal Dick,' or 'Royal Sam,'
+'ow's that? But 'owld on; them's Tom names. Oi say, Sammy, wot's the
+noime of that island where ye wuz born?"
+
+"Analostan Island, sah, was my native vicinity, sah."
+
+"Oi say, now, that's good, ye kneow. 'Royal Analostan,' by Jove! The
+onliest pedigreed 'Royal Analostan' in the 'ole sheow, ye kneow. Ain't
+that foine?" and they mingled their cackles.
+
+"But we'll 'ave to 'ave a pedigree, ye kneow." So a very long fake
+pedigree on the recognized lines was prepared. One dark afternoon Sam,
+in a borrowed silk hat, delivered the Cat and the pedigree at the show
+door. The darkey did the honors. He had been a Sixth Avenue barber, and
+he could put on more pomp and lofty hauteur in five minutes than Jap
+Malee could have displayed in a lifetime, and this, doubtless, was one
+reason for the respectful reception awarded the Royal Analostan at the
+Cat Show.
+
+Jap was very proud to be an exhibitor; but he had all a Cockney's
+reverence for the upper class, and when on the opening day he went to
+the door, he was overpowered to see the array of carriages and silk
+hats. The gate-man looked at him sharply, but passed him on his ticket,
+doubtless taking him for stable-boy to some exhibitor. The hall had
+velvet carpets before the long rows of cages. Jap, in his small
+cunning, was sneaking down the side rows, glancing at the Cats of all
+kinds, noting the blue ribbons and the reds, peering about but not
+daring to ask for his own exhibit, inly trembling to think what the
+gorgeous gathering of fashion would say if they discovered the trick he
+was playing on them. He had passed all around the outer aisles and seen
+many prize-winners, but no sign of Slum Kitty. The inner aisles were
+more crowded. He picked his way down them, but still no Kitty, and he
+decided that it was a mistake; the judges had rejected the Cat later.
+Never mind; he had his exhibitor's ticket, and now knew where several
+valuable Persians and Angoras were to be found.
+
+In the middle of the centre aisle were the high-class Cats. A great
+throng was there. The passage was roped, and two policemen were in
+place to keep the crowd moving. Jap wriggled in among them; he was too
+short to see over, and though the richly gowned folks shrunk from his
+shabby old clothes, he could not get near; but he gathered from the
+remarks that the gem of the show was there.
+
+"Oh, isn't  she a beauty!" said one tall woman.
+
+"What distinction!" was the reply.
+
+"One cannot mistake the air that comes only from ages of the most
+refined surroundings."
+
+"How I should like to own that superb creature!"
+
+"Such dignity--such repose!"
+
+"She has an authentic pedigree nearly back to the Pharaohs, I hear";
+and poor, dirty little Jap marvelled at his own cheek in sending his
+Slum Cat into such company.
+
+"Excuse me, madame." The director of the show now appeared, edging his
+way through the crowd. "The artist of the 'sporting Element' is here,
+under orders to sketch the 'pearl of the show' for immediate use. May I
+ask you to stand a little aside? That's it; thank you.
+
+"Oh, Mr. Director, cannot you persuade him to sell that beautiful
+creature?"
+
+"Hm, I don't know," was the reply. "I understand he is a man of ample
+means and not at all approachable; but I'll try, I'll try, madame. He
+was quite unwilling to exhibit his treasure at all, so I understand
+from his butler. Here, you, keep out of the way," growled the director,
+as the shabby little man eagerly pushed between the artist and the
+blue-blooded Cat. But the disreputable one wanted to know where
+valuable Cats were to be found. He came near enough to get a glimpse of
+the cage, and there read a placard which announced that "The blue
+ribbon and gold medal of the Knickerbocker High Society Cat and Pet
+Show" had been awarded to the "thoroughbred, pedigreed Royal Analostan,
+imported and exhibited by J. Malee, Esq., the well-known fancier. (Not
+for sale.)" Jap caught his breath and stared again. Yes, surely; there,
+high in a gilded cage, on velvet cushions, with four policemen for
+guards, her fur bright black and pale gray, her bluish eyes slightly
+closed, was his Slum Kitty, looking the picture of a Cat bored to death
+with a lot of fuss that she likes as little as she understands it.
+
+
+VII
+
+Jap Malee lingered around that cage, taking in the remarks, for
+hours--drinking a draught of glory such as he had never known in life
+before and rarely glimpsed in his dreams. But he saw that it would be
+wise for him to remain unknown; his "butler" must do all the business.
+
+It was Slum Kitty who made that show a success. Each day her value went
+up in her owner's eyes. He did not know what prices had been given for
+Cats, and thought that he was touching a record pitch when his "butler"
+gave the director authority to sell the Analostan for one hundred
+dollars.
+
+This is how it came about that the Slum Cat found herself transferred
+from the show to a Fifth Avenue mansion. She evinced a most
+unaccountable wildness at first. Her objection to petting, however, was
+explained on the ground of her aristocratic dislike of familiarity. Her
+retreat from the Lap-dog onto the centre of the dinner-table was
+understood to express a deep-rooted though mistaken idea of avoiding a
+defiling touch. Her assaults on a pet Canary were condoned for the
+reason that in her native Orient she had been used to despotic example.
+The patrician way in which she would get the cover off a milk-can was
+especially applauded. Her dislike of her silk-lined basket, and her
+frequent dashes against the plate-glass windows, were easily
+understood: the basket was too plain, and plate-glass was not used in
+her royal home. Her spotting of the carpet evidenced her Eastern modes
+of thought. The failure of her several attempts to catch Sparrows in
+the high-walled back yard was new proof of the royal impotency of her
+bringing up; while her frequent wallowings in the garbage-can were
+understood to be the manifestation of a little pardonable high-born
+eccentricity. She was fed and pampered, shown and praised; but she was
+not happy. Kitty was homesick! She clawed at that blue ribbon round her
+neck till she got it off; she jumped against the plate-glass because
+that seemed the road to outside; she avoided people and Dogs because
+they had always proved hostile and cruel; and she would sit and gaze on
+the roofs and back yards at the other side of the window, wishing she
+could be among them for a change.
+
+But she was strictly watched, was never allowed outside--so that all
+the happy garbage-can moments occurred while these receptacles of joy
+were indoors. One night in March, however, as they were set out a-row
+for the early scavenger, the Royal Analostan saw her chance, slipped
+out of the door, and was lost to view.
+
+Of course there was a grand stir; but Pussy neither knew nor cared
+anything about that--her one thought was to go home. It may have been
+chance that took her back in the direction of Gramercy Grange Hill, but
+she did arrive there after sundry small adventures. And now what? She
+was not at home, and she had cut off her living. She was beginning to
+be hungry, and yet she had a peculiar sense of happiness. She cowered
+in a front garden for some time. A raw east wind had been rising, and
+now it came to her with a particularly friendly message; man would have
+called it an unpleasant smell of the docks, but to Pussy it was welcome
+tidings from home. She trotted down the long Street due east, threading
+the rails of front gardens, stopping like a statue for an instant, or
+crossing the street in search of the darkest side, and came at length
+to the docks and to the water. But the place was strange. She could go
+north or south. Something turned her southward; and, dodging among
+docks and Dogs, carts and Cats, crooked arms of the bay and straight
+board fences, she got, in an hour or two, among familiar scenes and
+smells; and, before the sun came up, she had crawled back--weary and
+foot-sore through the same old hole in the same old fence and over a
+wall to her junk-yard back of the bird-cellar--yes, back into the very
+cracker-box where she was born.
+
+Oh, if the Fifth Avenue family could only have seen her in her native
+Orient!
+
+After a long rest she came quietly down from the cracker-box toward the
+steps leading to the cellar, engaged in her old-time pursuit of seeking
+for eatables. The door opened, and there stood the negro. He shouted to
+the bird-man inside:
+
+"Say, boss, come hyar. Ef dere ain't dat dar Royal Ankalostan am comed
+back!"
+
+Jap came in time to see the Cat jumping the wall. They called loudly
+and in the most seductive, wheedling tones: "Pussy, Pussy, poor Pussy!
+Come, Pussy!" But Pussy was not prepossessed in their favor, and
+disappeared to forage in her old-time haunts.
+
+The Royal Analostan had been a windfall for Jap--had been the means of
+adding many comforts to the cellar and several prisoners to the cages.
+It was now of the utmost importance to recapture her majesty. Stale
+meat-offal and other infallible lures were put out till Pussy, urged by
+the reestablished hunger-pinch, crept up to a large fish-head in a
+box-trap; the negro, in watching, pulled the string that dropped the
+lid, and, a minute later, the Analostan was once more among the
+prisoners in the cellar. Meanwhile Jap had been watching the 'Lost and
+Found' column. There it was, "$25 reward," etc. That night Mr. Malee's
+butler called at the Fifth Avenue mansion with the missing cat. "Mr.
+Malee's compliments, sah. De Royal Analostan had recurred in her recent
+proprietor's vicinity and residence, sah. Mr. Malee had pleasure in
+recuperating the Royal Analostan, sah." Of course Mr. Malee could not
+be rewarded, but the butler was open to any offer, and plainly showed
+that he expected the promised reward and something more.
+
+Kitty was guarded very carefully after that; but so far from being
+disgusted with the old life of starving, and glad of her ease, she
+became wilder and more dissatisfied.
+
+
+VIII
+
+The spring was doing its New York best. The dirty little English
+Sparrows were tumbling over each other in their gutter brawls, Cats
+yowled all night in the areas, and the Fifth Avenue family were
+thinking of their country residence. They packed up, closed house and
+moved off to their summer home, some fifty miles away, and Pussy, in a
+basket, went with them.
+
+"Just what she needed: a change of air and scene to wean her away from
+her former owners and make her happy."
+
+The basket was lifted into a Rumble-shaker. New sounds and passing
+smells were entered and left. A turn in the course was made. Then a
+roaring of many feet, more swinging of the basket; a short pause,
+another change of direction, then some clicks, some bangs, a long
+shrill whistle, and door-bells of a very big front door; a rumbling, a
+whizzing, an unpleasant smell, a hideous smell, a growing horrible,
+hateful choking smell, a deadly, griping, poisonous stench, with
+roaring that drowned poor Kitty's yowls, and just as it neared the
+point where endurance ceased, there was relief. She heard clicks and
+clacks. There was light; there was air. Then a man's voice called, "All
+out for 125th Street," though of course to Kitty it was a mere human
+bellow. The roaring almost ceased--did cease. Later the rackety-bang
+was renewed with plenty of sounds and shakes, though not the poisonous
+gas; a long, hollow, booming roar with a pleasant dock smell was
+quickly passed, and then there was a succession of jolts, roars, jars,
+stops, clicks, clacks, smells, jumps, shakes, more smells, more
+shakes,--big shakes, little shakes,--gases, smokes, screeches,
+door-bells, tremblings, roars, thunders, and some new smells, raps,
+taps, heavings, rumblings, and more smells, but all without any of the
+feel that the direction is changed. When at last it stopped, the sun
+came twinkling through the basket-lid. The Royal Cat was lifted into a
+Rumble-shaker of the old familiar style, and, swerving aside from their
+past course, very soon the noises of its wheels were grittings and
+rattlings; a new and horrible sound was added--the barking of Dogs, big
+and little and dreadfully close. The basket was lifted, and Slum Kitty
+had reached her country home.
+
+Every one was officiously kind. They wanted to please the Royal Cat,
+but somehow none of them did, except, possibly, the big, fat cook that
+Kitty discovered on wandering into the kitchen. This unctuous person
+smelt more like a slum than anything she had met for months, and the
+Royal Analostan was proportionately attracted. The cook, when she
+learned that fears were entertained about the Cat staying, said:
+"Shure, she'd 'tind to thot; wanst a Cat licks her futs, shure she's at
+home." So she deftly caught the unapproachable royalty in her apron,
+and committed the horrible sacrilege of greasing the soles of her feet
+with pot-grease. Of course Kitty resented it--she resented everything
+in the place; but on being set down she began to dress her paws and
+found evident satisfaction in that grease. She licked all four feet for
+an hour, and the cook triumphantly announced that now "shure she'd be
+apt to shtay." And stay she did, but she showed a most surprising and
+disgusting preference for the kitchen, the cook, and the garbage-pail.
+
+The family, though distressed by these distinguished peculiarities,
+were glad to see the Royal Analostan more contented and approachable.
+They gave her more liberty after a week or two. They guarded her from
+every menace. The Dogs were taught to respect her. No man or boy about
+the place would have dreamed of throwing a stone at the famous
+pedigreed Cat. She had all the food she wanted, but still she was not
+happy. She was hankering for many things, she scarcely knew what. She
+had everything--yes, but she wanted something else. Plenty to eat and
+drink--yes, but milk does not taste the same when you can go and drink
+all you want from a saucer; it has to be stolen out of a tin pail when
+you are belly-pinched with hunger and thirst, or it does not have the
+tang--it isn't milk.
+
+Yes, there was a junk-yard back of the house and beside it and around
+it too, a big one, but it was everywhere poisoned and polluted with
+roses. The very Horses and Dogs had the wrong smells; the whole country
+round was a repellent desert of lifeless, disgusting gardens and
+hay-fields, without a single tenement or smoke-stack in sight. How she
+did hate it all! There was only one sweet-smelling shrub in the whole
+horrible place, and that was in a neglected corner. She did enjoy
+nipping that and rolling in the leaves; it was a bright spot in the
+grounds; but the only one, for she had not found a rotten fish-head nor
+seen a genuine garbage-can since she came, and altogether it was the
+most unlovely, unattractive, unsmellable spot she had ever known. She
+would surely have gone that first night had she had the liberty. The
+liberty was weeks in coming, and, meanwhile, her affinity with the cook
+had developed as a bond to keep her; but one day after a summer of
+discontent a succession of things happened to stir anew the slum
+instinct of the royal prisoner.
+
+A great bundle of stuff from the docks had reached the country mansion.
+What it contained was of little moment, but it was rich with a score of
+the most piquant and winsome of dock and slum smells. The chords of
+memory surely dwell in the nose, and Pussy's past was conjured up with
+dangerous force. Next day the cook 'left' through some trouble over
+this very bundle. It was the cutting of cables, and that evening the
+youngest boy of the house, a horrid little American with no proper
+appreciation of royalty, was tying a tin to the blue-blooded one's
+tail, doubtless in furtherance of some altruistic project, when Pussy
+resented the liberty with a paw that wore five big fish-hooks for the
+occasion. The howl of downtrodden America roused America's mother. The
+deft and womanly blow that she aimed with her book was miraculously
+avoided, and Pussy took flight, up-stairs, of course. A hunted Rat runs
+down-stairs, a hunted Dog goes on the level, a hunted Cat runs up. She
+hid in the garret, baffled discovery, and waited till night came. Then,
+gliding down-stairs, she tried each screen-door in turn, till she found
+one unlatched, and escaped into the black August night. Pitch-black to
+man's eyes, it was simply gray to her, and she glided through the
+disgusting shrubbery and flower-beds, took a final nip at that one
+little bush that had been an attractive spot in the garden, and boldly
+took her back track of the spring.
+
+How could she take a back track that she never saw? There is in all
+animals some sense of direction. It is very low in man and very high in
+Horses, but Cats have a large gift, and this mysterious guide took her
+westward, not clearly and definitely, but with a general impulse that
+was made definite simply because the road was easy to travel. In an
+hour she had covered two miles and reached the Hudson River. Her nose
+had told her many times that the course was true. Smell after smell
+came back, just as a man after walking a mile in a strange street may
+not recall a single feature, but will remember, on seeing it again,
+"Why, yes, I saw that before." So Kitty's main guide was the sense of
+direction, but it was her nose that kept reassuring her, "Yes, now you
+are right--we passed this place last spring."
+
+At the river was the railroad. She could not go on the water; she must
+go north or south. This was a case where her sense of direction was
+clear; it said, "Go south," and Kitty trotted down the foot-path
+between the iron rails and the fence.
+
+
+
+
+LIFE III
+
+IX
+
+Cats can go very fast up a tree or over a wall, but when it comes to
+the long steady trot that reels off mile after mile, hour after hour,
+it is not the cat-hop, but the dog-trot, that counts. Although the
+travelling was good and the path direct, an hour had gone before two
+more miles were put between her and the Hades of roses. She was tired
+and a little foot-sore. She was thinking of rest when a Dog came
+running to the fence near by, and broke out into such a horrible
+barking close to her ear that Pussy leaped in terror. She ran as hard
+as she could down the path, at the same time watching to see if the Dog
+should succeed in passing the fence. No, not yet! but he ran close by
+it, growling horribly, while Pussy skipped along on the safe side. The
+barking of the Dog grew into a low rumble--a louder rumble and
+roaring--a terrifying thunder. A light shone. Kitty glanced back to
+see, not the Dog, but a huge Black Thing with a blazing red eye coming
+on, yowling and spitting like a yard full of Cats. She put forth all
+her powers to run, made such time as she had never made before, but
+dared not leap the fence. She was running like a Dog, was flying, but
+all in vain; the monstrous pursuer overtook her, but missed her in the
+darkness, and hurried past to be lost in the night, while Kitty
+crouched gasping for breath, half a mile nearer home since that Dog
+began to bark.
+
+This was her first encounter with the strange monster, strange to her
+eyes only; her nose seemed to know him and told her this was another
+landmark on the home trail. But Pussy lost much of her fear of his
+kind. She learned that they were very stupid and could not find her if
+she slipped quietly under a fence and lay still. Before morning she had
+encountered several of them, but escaped unharmed from all.
+
+About sunrise she reached a nice little slum on her home trail, and was
+lucky enough to find several unsterilized eatables in an ash-heap. She
+spent the day around a stable where were two Dogs and a number of small
+boys, that between them came near ending her career. It was so very
+like home; but she had no idea of staying there. She was driven by the
+old craving, and next evening set out as before. She had seen the
+one-eyed Thunder-rollers all day going by, and was getting used to
+them, so travelled steadily all that night. The next day was spent in a
+barn where she caught a Mouse, and the next night was like the last,
+except that a Dog she encountered drove her backward on her trail for a
+long way. Several times she was misled by angling roads, and wandered
+far astray, but in time she wandered back again to her general
+southward course. The days were passed in skulking under barns and
+hiding from Dogs and small boys, and the nights in limping along the
+track, for she was getting foot-sore; but on she went, mile after mile,
+southward, ever southward--Dogs, boys, Roarers, hunger--Dogs, boys,
+Roarers, hunger--yet on and onward still she went, and her nose from
+time to time cheered her by confidently reporting, "There surely is a
+smell we passed last spring."
+
+
+X
+
+So a week went by, and Pussy, dirty, ribbon-less, foot-sore, and weary,
+arrived at the Harlem Bridge. Though it was enveloped in delicious
+smells, she did not like the look of that bridge. For half the night
+she wandered up and down the shore without discovering any other means
+of going south, excepting some other bridges, or anything of interest
+except that here the men were as dangerous as the boys. Somehow she had
+to come back to it; not only its smells were familiar, but from time to
+time, when a One-eye ran over it, there was that peculiar rumbling roar
+that was a sensation in the springtime trip. The calm of the late night
+was abroad when she leaped to the timber stringer and glided out over
+the water. She had got less than a third of the way across when a
+thundering One-eye came roaring at her from the opposite end. She was
+much frightened, but knowing their stupidity and blindness, she dropped
+to a low side beam and there crouched in hiding. Of course the stupid
+Monster missed her and passed on, and all would have been well, but it
+turned back, or another just like it came suddenly spitting behind her.
+Pussy leaped to the long track and made for the home shore. She might
+have got there had not a third of the Red-eyed Terrors come screeching
+at her from that side. She was running her hardest, but was caught
+between two foes. There was nothing for it but a desperate leap from
+the timbers into-she didn't know what. Down, down, down-plop, splash,
+plunge into the deep water, not cold, for it was August, but oh, so
+horrible! She spluttered and coughed when she came to the top, glanced
+around to see if the Monsters were swimming after her, and struck out
+for shore. She had never learned to swim, and yet she swam, for the
+simple reason that a Cat's position and actions in swimming are the
+same as her position and actions in walking. She had fallen into a
+place she did not like; naturally she tried to walk out, and the result
+was that she swam ashore. Which shore? The home-love never fails: the
+south side was the only shore for her, the one nearest home. She
+scrambled out all dripping wet, up the muddy bank and through
+coal-piles and dust-heaps, looking as black, dirty, and unroyal as it
+was possible for a Cat to look.
+
+Once the shock was over, the Royal-pedigreed Slummer began to feel
+better for the plunge. A genial glow without from the bath, a genial
+sense of triumph within, for had she not outwitted three of the big
+Terrors?
+
+Her nose, her memory, and her instinct of direction inclined her to get
+on the track again; but the place was infested with those
+Thunder-rollers, and prudence led her to turn aside and follow the
+river-bank with its musky home-reminders; and thus she was spared the
+unspeakable horrors of the tunnel.
+
+She was over three days learning the manifold dangers and complexities
+of the East River docks. Once she got by mistake on a ferryboat and was
+carried over to Long Island; but she took an early boat back. At length
+on the third night she reached familiar ground, the place she had
+passed the night of her first escape. From that her course was sure and
+rapid. She knew just where she was going and how to get there. She knew
+even the more prominent features in the Dog-scape now. She went faster,
+felt happier. In a little while surely she would be curled up in her
+native Orient--the old junk-yard. Another turn, and the block was in
+sight.
+
+But--what! It was gone! Kitty couldn't believe her eyes; but she must,
+for the sun was not yet up. There where once had stood or leaned or
+slouched or straggled the houses of the block, was a great broken
+wilderness of stone, lumber, and holes in the ground.
+
+Kitty walked all around it. She knew by the bearings and by the local
+color of the pavement that she was in her home, that there had lived
+the bird-man, and there was the old junk-yard; but all were gone,
+completely gone, taking their familiar odors with them, and Pussy
+turned sick at heart in the utter hopelessness of the case. Her
+place-love was her master-mood. She had given up all to come to a home
+that no longer existed, and for once her sturdy little heart was cast
+down. She wandered over the silent heaps of rubbish and found neither
+consolation nor eatables. The ruin had taken in several of the blocks
+and reached back from the water. It was not a fire; Kitty had seen one
+of those things. This looked more like the work of a flock of the
+Red-eyed Monsters. Pussy knew nothing of the great bridge that was to
+rise from this very spot.
+
+When the sun came up she sought for cover. An adjoining block still
+stood with little change, and the Royal Analostan retired to that. She
+knew some of its trails; but once there, was unpleasantly surprised to
+find the place swarming with Cats that, like herself, were driven from
+their old grounds, and when the garbage-cans came out there were
+several Slummers at each. It meant a famine in the land, and Pussy,
+after standing it a few days, was reduced to seeking her other home on
+Fifth Avenue. She got there to find it shut up and deserted. She waited
+about for a day; had an unpleasant experience with a big man in a blue
+coat, and next night returned to the crowded slum.
+
+September and October wore away. Many of the Cats died of starvation or
+were too weak to escape their natural enemies. But Kitty, young and
+strong, still lived.
+
+Great changes had come over the ruined blocks. Though silent on the
+night when she first saw them, they were crowded with noisy workmen all
+day. A tall building, well advanced on her arrival, was completed at
+the end of October, and Slum Kitty, driven by hunger, went sneaking up
+to a pail that a negro had set outside. The pail, unfortunately, was
+not for garbage; it was a new thing in that region: a scrubbing-pail. A
+sad disappointment, but it had a sense of comfort--there were traces of
+a familiar touch on the handle. While she was studying it, the negro
+elevator-boy came out again. In spite of his blue clothes, his odorous
+person confirmed the good impression of the handle. Kitty had retreated
+across the street. He gazed at her.
+
+"Sho ef dat don't look like de Royal Ankalostan! Hyar, Pussy, Pussy,
+Pu-s-s-s-s-y! Co-o-o-o-m-e, Pu-u-s-s-sy, hyar! I 'spec's she's sho
+hungry."
+
+Hungry! She hadn't  had a real meal for months. The negro went into the
+building and reappeared with a portion of his own lunch.
+
+"Hyar, Pussy, Puss, Puss, Puss!" It seemed very good, but Pussy had her
+doubts of the man. At length he laid the meat on the pavement, and went
+back to the door. Slum Kitty came forward very warily; sniffed at the
+meat, seized it, and fled like a little Tigress to eat her prize in
+peace.
+
+
+
+
+LIFE IV
+
+XI
+
+This was the beginning of a new era. Pussy came to the door of the
+building now whenever pinched by hunger, and the good feeling for the
+negro grew. She had never understood that man before. He had always
+seemed hostile. Now he was her friend, the only one she had.
+
+One week she had a streak of luck. Seven good meals on seven successive
+days; and right on the top of the last meal she found a juicy dead Rat,
+the genuine thing, a perfect windfall. She had never killed a
+full-grown Rat in all her lives, but seized the prize and ran off to
+hide it for future use. She was crossing the street in front of the new
+building when an old enemy appeared,--the Wharf Dog,--and Kitty
+retreated, naturally enough, to the door where she had a friend. Just
+as she neared it, he opened the door for a well-dressed man to come
+out, and both saw the Cat with her prize.
+
+"Hello! Look at that for a Cat!"
+
+"Yes, sah," answered the negro. "Dat's ma Cat, sah; she's a terror on
+Rats, sah! hez 'em about cleaned up, sah; dat's why she's so thin."
+
+"Well, don't let her starve," said the man with the air of the
+landlord. "Can't you feed her?
+
+"De liver meat-man comes reg'lar, sah; quatah dollar a week, sah," said
+the negro, fully realizing that he was entitled to the extra fifteen
+cents for "the idea."
+
+"That's all right. I'll stand it."
+
+
+XII
+
+"M-e-a-t! M-e-a-t!" is heard the magnetic, cat-conjuring cry of the old
+liver-man, as his barrow is pushed up the glorified Scrimper's Alley,
+and Cats come crowding, as of yore, to receive their due.
+
+There are Cats black, white, yellow, and gray to be remembered, and,
+above all, there are owners to be remembered. As the barrow rounds the
+corner near the new building it makes a newly scheduled stop.
+
+"Hyar, you, get out o' the road, you common trash," cries the
+liver-man, and he waves his wand to make way for the little gray Cat
+with blue eyes and white nose. She receives an unusually large portion,
+for Sam is wisely dividing the returns evenly; and Slum Kitty retreats
+with her 'daily' into shelter of the great building, to which she is
+regularly attached. She has entered into her fourth life with prospects
+of happiness never before dreamed of. Everything was against her at
+first; now everything seems to be coming her way. It is very doubtful
+that her mind was broadened by travel, but she knew what she wanted and
+she got it. She has achieved her long-time great ambition by catching,
+not a Sparrow, but two of them, while they were clinched in mortal
+combat in the gutter.
+
+There is no reason to suppose that she ever caught another Rat; but the
+negro secures a dead one when he can, for purposes of exhibition, lest
+her pension be imperilled. The dead one is left in the hall till the
+proprietor comes; then it is apologetically swept away. "Well, drat dat
+Cat, sah; dat Royal Ankalostan blood, sah, is terrors on Rats."
+
+She has had several broods since. The negro thinks the Yellow Tom is
+the father of some of them, and no doubt the negro is right.
+
+He has sold her a number of times with a perfectly clear conscience,
+knowing quite well that it is only a question of a few days before the
+Royal Analostan comes back again. Doubtless he is saving the money for
+some honorable ambition. She has learned to tolerate the elevator, and
+even to ride up and down on it. The negro stoutly maintains that once,
+when she heard the meat-man, while she was on the top floor, she
+managed to press the button that called the elevator to take her down.
+
+She is sleek and beautiful again. She is not only one of the four
+hundred that form the inner circle about the liver-barrow, but she is
+recognized as the star pensioner among them. The liver-man is
+positively respectful. Not even the cream-and-chicken fed Cat of the
+pawn-broker's wife has such a position as the Royal Analostan. But in
+spite of her prosperity, her social position, her royal name and fake
+pedigree, the greatest pleasure of her life is to slip out and go
+a-slumming in the gloaming, for now, as in her previous lives, she is
+at heart, and likely to be, nothing but a dirty little Slum Cat.
+
+
+
+
+ARNAUX
+
+THE CHRONICLE OF A HOMING PIGEON
+
+We passed through the side door of a big stable on West Nineteenth
+Street. The mild smell of the well-kept stalls was lost in the sweet
+odor of hay, as we mounted a ladder and entered the long garret. The
+south end was walled off, and the familiar "Coo-oo, cooooo-oo,
+ruk-at-a-coo," varied with the "whirr, whirr, whirr" of wings, informed
+us that we were at the  pigeon-loft.
+
+This was the home of a famous lot of birds, and to-day there was to be
+a race among fifty of the youngsters. The owner of the loft had asked
+me, as an unprejudiced outsider, to be judge in the contest.
+
+It was a training race of the young birds. They had been taken out for
+short distances with their parents once or twice, then set free to
+return to the loft. Now for the first time they were to be flown
+without the old ones. The point of start, Elizabeth, N. J., was a long
+journey for their first unaided attempt. "But then," the trainer
+remarked, "that's how we weed out the fools; only the best birds make
+it, and that's all we want back."
+
+There was another side to the flight. It was to be a race among those
+that did return. Each of the men about the loft as well as several
+neighboring fanciers were interested in one or other of the Homers.
+They made up a purse for the winner, and on me was to devolve the
+important duty of deciding which should take the stakes. Not the first
+bird back, but the first bird into the loft, was to win, for one that
+returns to his neighborhood merely, without immediately reporting at
+home, is of little use as a letter-carrier.
+
+The Homing Pigeon used to be called the Carrier because it carried
+messages, but here I found that name restricted to the show bird, the
+creature with absurdly developed wattles; the one that carries the
+messages is now called the Homer, or Homing Pigeon--the bird that
+always comes home. These Pigeons are not of any special color, nor have
+they any of the fancy adornments of the kind that figure in Bird shows.
+They are not bred for style, but for speed and for their mental gifts.
+They must be true to their home, able to return to it without fail. The
+sense of direction is now believed to be located in the bony labyrinth
+of the ear. There is no creature with finer sense of locality and
+direction than a good Homer, and the only visible proofs of it are the
+great bulge on each side of the head over the ears, and the superb
+wings that complete his equipment to obey the noble impulse of
+home-love. Now the mental and physical equipments of the last lot of
+young birds were to be put to test.
+
+Although there were plenty of witnesses, I thought it best to close all
+but one of the pigeon-doors and stand ready to shut that behind the
+first arrival.
+
+I shall never forget the sensations of that day. I had been warned:
+"They start at 12; they should be here at 12:30; but look out, they
+come like a whirlwind. You hardly see them till they're in."
+
+We were ranged along the inside of the loft, each with an eye to a
+crack or a partly closed pigeon-door, anxiously scanning the
+southwestern horizon, when one shouted: "Look out--here they come!"
+Like a white cloud they burst into view, low skimming over the city
+roofs, around a great chimney pile, and in two seconds after first
+being seen they were back. The flash of white, the rush of pinions,
+were all so sudden, so short, that, though preparing, I was unprepared.
+I was at the only open door. A whistling arrow of blue shot in, lashed
+my face with its pinions, and passed. I had hardly time to drop the
+little door, as a yell burst from the men, "Arnaux! Arnaux! I told you
+he would. Oh, he's a darling; only three months old and a winner--he's
+a little darling!" and Arnaux's owner danced, more for joy in his bird
+than in the purse he had won.
+
+The men sat or kneeled and watched him in positive reverence as he
+gulped a quantity of water, then turned to the food-trough.
+
+"Look at that eye, those wings, and did you ever see such a breast? Oh,
+but he's the real grit!" so his owner prattled to the silent ones whose
+birds had been defeated.
+
+That was the first of Arnaux's exploits. Best of fifty birds from a
+good loft, his future was bright with promise.
+
+He was invested with the silver anklet of the Sacred Order of the High
+Homer. It bore his number, 2590 C, a number which to-day means much to
+all men in the world of the Homing Pigeon.
+
+In that trial flight from Elizabeth only forty birds had returned. It
+is usually so. Some were weak and got left behind, some were foolish
+and strayed. By this simple process of flight selection the
+pigeon-owners keep improving their stock. Of the ten, five were seen no
+more, but five returned later that day, not all at once, but straggling
+in; the last of the loiterers was a big, lubberly Blue Pigeon. The man
+in the loft at the time called: "Here comes that old sap-headed Blue
+that Jakey was betting on. I didn't suppose he would come back, and I
+didn't care, neither, for it's my belief he has a streak of Pouter."
+
+The Big Blue, also called "Corner-box" from the nest where he was
+hatched, had shown remarkable vigor from the first. Though all were
+about the same age, he had grown faster, was bigger, and incidentally
+handsomer, though the fanciers cared little for that. He seemed fully
+aware of his importance, and early showed a disposition to bully his
+smaller cousins. His owner prophesied great things of him, but Billy,
+the stable-man, had grave doubts over the length of his neck, the
+bigness of his crop, his carriage, and his over-size. "A bird can't
+make time pushing a bag of wind ahead of him. Them long legs is dead
+weight, an' a neck like that ain't got no gimp in it," Billy would
+grunt disparagingly as he cleaned out the loft of a morning.
+
+
+II
+
+The training of the birds went on after this at regular times. The
+distance from home, of the start, was "jumped" twenty-five or thirty
+miles farther each day, and its direction changed till the Homers knew
+the country for one hundred and fifty miles around New York. The
+original fifty birds dwindled to twenty, for the rigid process weeds
+out not only the weak and ill-equipped, but those also who may have
+temporary ailments or accidents, or who may make the mistake of
+over-eating at the start. There were many fine birds in that flight,
+broad-breasted, bright-eyed, long-winged creatures, formed for swiftest
+flight, for high unconscious emprise, for these were destined to be
+messengers in the service of man in times of serious need. Their colors
+were mostly white, blue, or brown. They wore no uniform, but each and
+all of the chosen remnant had the brilliant eye and the bulging ears of
+the finest Homer blood; and, best and choicest of all, nearly always
+first among them was little Arnaux. He had not much to distinguish him
+when at rest, for now all of the band had the silver anklet, but in the
+air it was that Arnaux showed his make, and when the opening of the
+hamper gave the order "Start," it was Arnaux that first got under way,
+soared to the height deemed needful to exclude all local influence,
+divined the road to home, and took it, pausing not for food, drink, or
+company.
+
+Notwithstanding Billy's evil forecasts, the Big Blue of the Corner-box
+was one of the chosen twenty. Often he was late in returning; he never
+was first, and sometimes when he came back hours behind the rest, it
+was plain that he was neither hungry nor thirsty, sure signs that he
+was a loiterer by the way. Still he had come back; and now he wore on
+his ankle, like the rest, the sacred badge and a number from the roll
+of possible fame. Billy despised him, set him in poor contrast with
+Arnaux, but his owner would reply: "Give him a chance;'soon ripe, soon
+rotten,' an' I always notice the best bird is the slowest to show up at
+first."
+
+Before a year little Arnaux had made a record. The hardest of all work
+is over the sea, for there is no chance of aid from landmarks; and the
+hardest of all times at sea is in fog, for then even the sun is blotted
+out and there is nothing whatever for guidance. With memory, sight, and
+hearing unavailable, the Homer has one thing left, and herein is his
+great strength, the inborn sense of direction. There is only one thing
+that can destroy this, and that is fear, hence the necessity of a stout
+little heart between those noble wings.
+
+Arnaux, with two of his order, in course of training, had been shipped
+on an ocean steamer bound for Europe. They were to be released out of
+sight of land, but a heavy fog set in and forbade the start. The
+steamer took them onward, the intention being to send them back with
+the next vessel. When ten hours out the engine broke down, the fog
+settled dense over the sea, and the vessel was adrift and helpless as a
+log. She could only whistle for assistance, and so far as results were
+concerned, the captain might as well have wigwagged. Then the Pigeons
+were thought of. Starback, 2592 C, was first selected. A message for
+help was written on waterproof paper, rolled up, and lashed to his
+tail-feathers on the under side. He was thrown into the air and
+disappeared. Half an hour later, a second, the Big Blue Corner-box,
+2600 C, was freighted with a letter. He flew up, but almost immediately
+returned and alighted on the rigging. He was a picture of pigeon fear;
+nothing could induce him to leave the ship. He was so terrorized that
+he was easily caught and ignominiously thrust back into the coop.
+
+Now the third was brought out, a small, chunky bird. The shipmen did
+not know him, but they noted down from his anklet his name and number,
+Arnaux, 2590 C. It meant nothing to them. But the officer who held him
+noted that his heart did not beat so wildly as that of the last bird.
+The message was taken from the Big Blue. It ran:
+
+
+10 A.M., Tuesday.
+
+We broke our shaft two hundred and ten miles out from New York; we are
+drifting helplessly in the fog. Send out a tug as soon as possible. We
+are whistling one long, followed at once by one short, every sixty
+seconds.
+
+(Signed)  THE CAPTAIN.
+
+
+This was rolled up, wrapped in waterproof film, addressed to the
+Steamship Company, and lashed to the under side of Arnaux's middle
+tail-feather.
+
+When thrown into the air, he circled round the ship, then round again
+higher, then again higher in a wider circle, and he was lost to view;
+and still higher till quite out of sight and feeling of the ship. Shut
+out from the use of all his senses now but one, he gave himself up to
+that. Strong in him it was, and untrammelled of that murderous despot
+Fear. True as a needle to the Pole went Arnaux now, no hesitation, no
+doubts; within one minute of leaving the coop he was speeding straight
+as a ray of light for the loft where he was born, the only place on
+earth where he could be made content.
+
+That afternoon Billy was on duty when the whistle of fast wings was
+heard; a blue Flyer flashed into the loft and made for the
+water-trough. He was gulping down mouthful after mouthful, when Billy
+gasped: "Why, Arnaux, it's you, you beauty." Then, with the quick habit
+of the pigeon-man, he pulled out his watch and marked the time, 2:40
+P.M. A glance showed the tie string on the tail. He shut the door and
+dropped the catching-net quickly over Arnaux's head. A moment later he
+had the roll in his hand; in two minutes he was speeding to the office
+of the Company, for there was a fat tip in view. There he learned that
+Arnaux had made the two hundred and ten miles in fog, over sea, in four
+hours and forty minutes, and within one hour the needful help had set
+out for the unfortunate steamer.
+
+Two hundred and ten miles in fog over sea in four hours and forty
+minutes! This was a noble record. It was duly inscribed in the rolls of
+the Homing Club. Arnaux was held while the secretary, with rubber stamp
+and indelible ink, printed on a snowy primary of his right wing the
+record of the feat, with the date and reference number.
+
+Starback, the second bird, never was heard of again. No doubt he
+perished at sea.
+
+Blue Corner-box came back on the tug.
+
+
+III
+
+That was Arnaux's first public record; but others came fast, and
+several curious scenes were enacted in that old pigeon-loft with Arnaux
+as the central figure. One day a carriage drove up to the stable; a
+white-haired gentleman got out, climbed the dusty stairs, and sat all
+morning in the loft with Billy. Peering from his gold-rimmed glasses,
+first at a lot of papers, next across the roofs of the city, waiting,
+watching, for what? News from a little place not forty miles away--news
+of greatest weight to him, tidings that would make or break him,
+tidings that must reach him before it could be telegraphed: a telegram
+meant at least an hour's delay at each end. What was faster than that
+for forty miles? In those days there was but one thing--a high-class
+Homer. Money would count for nothing if he could win. The best, the
+very best at any price he must have, and Arnaux, with seven indelible
+records on his pinions, was the chosen messenger. An hour went by,
+another, and a third was begun, when with whistle of wings, the blue
+meteor flashed into the loft. Billy slammed the door and caught him.
+Deftly he snipped the threads and handed the roll to the banker. The
+old man turned deathly pale, fumbled it open, then his color came back.
+"Thank God!" he gasped, and then went speeding to his Board meeting,
+master of the situation. Little Arnaux had saved him.
+
+The banker wanted to buy the Homer, feeling in a vague way that he
+ought to honor and cherish him; but Billy was very clear about it.
+"What's the good? You can't buy a Homer's heart. You could keep him a
+prisoner, that's all; but nothing on earth could make him forsake the
+old loft where he was hatched." So Arnaux stayed at 211 West Nineteenth
+Street. But the banker did not forget.
+
+There is in our country a class of miscreants who think a flying Pigeon
+is fair game, because it is probably far from home, or they shoot him
+because it is hard to fix the crime. Many a noble Homer, speeding with
+a life or death message, has been shot down by one of these wretches
+and remorselessly made into a pot-pie. Arnaux's brother Arnolf, with
+three fine records on his wings, was thus murdered in the act of
+bearing a hasty summons for the doctor. As he fell dying at the
+gunner's feet, his superb wings spread out displayed his list of
+victories. The silver badge on his leg was there, and the gunner was
+smitten with remorse. He had the message sent on; he returned the dead
+bird to the Homing Club, saying that he "found it." The owner came to
+see him; the gunner broke down under cross-examination, and was forced
+to admit that he himself had shot the Homer, but did so in behalf of a
+poor sick neighbor who craved a pigeon-pie.
+
+There were tears in the wrath of the pigeon-man. "My bird, my beautiful
+Arnolf, twenty times has he brought vital messages, three times has he
+made records, twice has he saved human lives, and you'd shoot him for a
+pot-pie. I could punish you under the law, but I have no heart for such
+a poor revenge. I only ask you this, if ever again you have a sick
+neighbor who wants a pigeon-pie, come, we'll freely supply him with
+pie-breed squabs; but if you have a trace of manhood about you, you
+will never, never again shoot, or allow others to shoot, our noble and
+priceless messengers."
+
+This took place while the banker was in touch with the loft, while his
+heart was warm for the Pigeons. He was a man of influence, and the
+Pigeon Protective legislation at Albany was the immediate fruit of
+Arnaux's exploit.
+
+
+IV
+
+Billy had never liked the Corner-box Blue (2600 C); notwithstanding the
+fact that he still continued in the ranks of the Silver Badge, Billy
+believed he was poor stuff. The steamer incident seemed to prove him
+coward; he certainly was a bully.
+
+One morning when Billy went in there was a row, two Pigeons, a large
+and a small, alternately clinching and sparring all over the floor,
+feathers flying, dust and commotion everywhere. As soon as they were
+separated Billy found that the little one was Arnaux and the big one
+was the Corner-box Blue. Arnaux had made a good fight, but was
+overmatched, for the Big Blue was half as heavy again.
+
+Soon it was very clear what they had fought over--a pretty little lady
+Pigeon of the bluest Homing blood. The Big Blue cock had kept up a
+state of bad feeling by his bullying, but it was the Little Lady that
+had made them close in mortal combat. Billy had no authority to wring
+the Big Blue's neck, but he interfered as far as he could in behalf of
+his favorite Arnaux.
+
+Pigeon marriages are arranged somewhat like those of mankind.
+Propinquity is the first thing: force the pair together for a time and
+let nature take its course. So Billy locked Arnaux and the Little Lady
+up together in a separate apartment for two weeks, and to make doubly
+sure he locked Big Blue up with an Available Lady in another apartment
+for two weeks.
+
+Things turned out just as was expected. The Little Lady surrendered to
+Arnaux and the Available Lady to the Big Blue. Two nests were begun and
+everything shaped for a "lived happily ever after." But the Big Blue
+was very big and handsome. He could blow out his crop and strut in the
+sun and make rainbows all round his neck in a way that might turn the
+heart of the staidest Homerine.
+
+Arnaux, though sturdily built, was small and except for his brilliant
+eyes, not especially good-looking. Moreover, he was often away on
+important business, and the Big Blue had nothing to do but stay around
+the loft and display his unlettered wings.
+
+It is the custom of moralists to point to the lower animals, and
+especially to the Pigeon, for examples of love and constancy, and
+properly so, but, alas there are exceptions. Vice is not by any means
+limited to the human race.
+
+Arnaux's wife had been deeply impressed with the Big Blue, at the
+outset, and at length while her spouse was absent the dreadful thing
+took place.
+
+Arnaux returned from Boston one day to find that the Big Blue, while he
+retained his own Available Lady in the corner-box, had also annexed the
+box and wife that belonged to himself, and a desperate battle followed.
+The only spectators were the two wives, but they maintained an
+indifferent aloofness. Arnaux fought with his famous wings, but they
+were none the better weapons because they now bore twenty records. His
+beak and feet were small, as became his blood, and his stout little
+heart could not make up for his lack of weight. The battle went against
+him. His wife sat unconcernedly in the nest, as though it were not her
+affair, and Arnaux might have been killed but for the timely arrival of
+Billy. He was angry enough to wring the Blue bird's neck, but the bully
+escaped from the loft in time. Billy took tender care of Arnaux for a
+few days. At the end of a week he was well again, and in ten days he
+was once more on the road. Meanwhile he had evidently forgiven his
+faithless wife, for, without any apparent feeling, he took up his
+nesting as before. That month he made two new records. He brought a
+message ten miles in eight minutes, and he came from Boston in four
+hours. Every moment of the way he had been impelled by the
+master-passion of home-love. But it was a poor home-coming if his wife
+figured at all in his thoughts, for he found her again flirting with
+the Big Blue cock. Tired as he was, the duel was renewed, and again
+would have been to a finish but for Billy's interference. He separated
+the fighters, then shut the Blue cock up in a coop, determined to get
+rid of him in some way. Meanwhile the "Any Age Sweepstakes" handicap
+from Chicago to New York was on, a race of nine hundred miles. Arnaux
+had been entered six months before. His forfeit-money was up, and
+notwithstanding his domestic complications, his friends felt that he
+must not fail to appear.
+
+The birds were sent by train to Chicago, to be liberated at intervals
+there according to their handicap, and last of the start was Arnaux.
+They lost no time, and outside of Chicago several of these prime Flyers
+joined by common impulse into a racing flock that went through air on
+the same invisible track. A Homer may make a straight line when
+following his general sense of direction, but when following a familiar
+back track he sticks to the well-remembered landmarks. Most of the
+birds had been trained by way of Columbus and Buffalo. Arnaux knew the
+Columbus route, but also he knew that by Detroit, and after leaving
+Lake Michigan, he took the straight line for Detroit. Thus he caught up
+on his handicap and had the advantage of many miles. Detroit, Buffalo,
+Rochester, with their familiar towers and chimneys, faded behind him,
+and Syracuse was near at hand. It was now late afternoon; six hundred
+miles in twelve hours he had flown and was undoubtedly leading the
+race; but the usual thirst of the Flyer had attacked him. Skimming over
+the city roofs, he saw a loft of Pigeons, and descending from his high
+course in two or three great circles, he followed the ingoing Birds to
+the loft and drank greedily at the water-trough, as he had often done
+before, and as every pigeon-lover hospitably expects the messengers to
+do. The owner of the loft was there and noted the strange Bird. He
+stepped quietly to where he could inspect him. One of his own Pigeons
+made momentary opposition to the stranger, and Arnaux, sparring
+sidewise with an open wing in Pigeon style, displayed the long array of
+printed records. The man was a fancier. His interest was aroused; he
+pulled the string that shut the flying door, and in a few minutes
+Arnaux was his prisoner.
+
+The robber spread the much-inscribed wings, read record after record,
+and glancing at the silver badge--it should have been gold--he read his
+name--Arnaux; then exclaimed: "Arnaux! Arnaux! Oh, I've heard of you,
+you little beauty, and it's glad I am to trap you." He snipped the
+message from his tail, unrolled it, and read: "Arnaux left Chicago this
+morning at 4 A.M., scratched in the Any Age Sweepstakes for New York."
+
+"Six hundred miles in twelve hours! By the powers, that's a
+record-breaker." And the pigeon-stealer gently, almost reverently, put
+the fluttering Bird safely into a padded cage. "Well," he added, "I
+know it's no use trying to make you stay, but I can breed from you and
+have some of your strain."
+
+So Arnaux was shut up in a large and comfortable loft with several
+other prisoners. The man, though a thief, was a lover of Homers; he
+gave his captive everything that could insure his comfort and safety.
+For three months he left him in that loft. At first Arnaux did nothing
+all day but walk up and down the wire screen, looking high and low for
+means of escape; but in the fourth month he seemed to have abandoned
+the attempt, and the watchful jailer began the second part of his
+scheme. He introduced a coy young lady Pigeon. But it did not seem to
+answer; Arnaux was not even civil to her. After a time the jailer
+removed the female, and Arnaux was left in solitary confinement for a
+month. Now a different female was brought in, but with no better luck;
+and thus it went on--for a year different charmers were introduced.
+Arnaux either violently repelled them or was scornfully indifferent,
+and at times the old longing to get away, came back with twofold power,
+so that he darted up and down the wire front or dashed with all his
+force against it.
+
+When the storied feathers of his wings began their annual moult, his
+jailer saved them as precious things, and as each new feather came he
+reproduced on it the record of its owner's fame.
+
+Two years went slowly by, and the jailer had put Arnaux in a new loft
+and brought in another lady Pigeon. By chance she closely resembled the
+faithless one at home. Arnaux actually heeded the newcomer. Once the
+jailer thought he saw his famous prisoner paying some slight attention
+to the charmer, and, yes, he surely saw her preparing a nest. Then
+assuming that they had reached a full understanding, the jailer, for
+the first time, opened the outlet, and Arnaux was free. Did he hang
+around in doubt? Did he hesitate? No, not for one moment. As soon as
+the drop of the door left open the way, he shot through, he spread
+those wonderful blazoned wings, and, with no second thought for the
+latest Circe, sprang from the hated prison loft--away and away.
+
+
+V
+
+We have no means of looking into the Pigeon's mind; we may go wrong in
+conjuring up for it deep thoughts of love and welcome home; but we are
+safe in this, we cannot too strongly paint, we cannot too highly praise
+and glorify that wonderful God-implanted, mankind-fostered home-love
+that glows unquenchably in this noble bird. Call it what you like, a
+mere instinct deliberately constructed by man for his selfish ends,
+explain it away if you will, dissect it, misname it, and it still is
+there, in overwhelming, imperishable master-power, as long as the brave
+little heart and wings can beat.
+
+Home, home, sweet home! Never had mankind a stronger love of home than
+Arnaux. The trials and sorrows of the old pigeon-loft were forgotten in
+that all-dominating force of his nature. Not years of prison bars, not
+later loves, nor fear of death, could down its power; and Arnaux, had
+the gift of song been his, must surely have sung as sings a hero in his
+highest joy, when sprang he from the 'lighting board, up-circling free,
+soaring, drawn by the only impulse that those glorious wings would
+honor,--up, up, in widening, heightening circles of ashy blue in the
+blue, flashing those many-lettered wings of white, till they seemed
+like jets of fire--up and on, driven by that home-love, faithful to his
+only home and to his faithless mate; closing his eyes, they say;
+closing his ears, they tell; shutting his mind,--we all believe,--to
+nearer things, to two years of his life, to one half of his prime, but
+soaring in the blue, retiring, as a saint might do, into his inner
+self, giving himself up to that inmost guide. He was the captain of the
+ship, but the pilot, the chart and compass, all, were that
+deep-implanted instinct. One thousand feet above the trees the
+inscrutable whisper came, and Arnaux in arrowy swiftness now was
+pointing for the south-southeast. The little flashes of white fire on
+each side were lost in the low sky, and the reverent robber of Syracuse
+saw Arnaux nevermore.
+
+The fast express was steaming down the valley. It was far ahead, but
+Arnaux overtook and passed it, as the flying wild Duck passes the
+swimming Muskrat. High in the valleys he went, low over the hills of
+Chenango, where the pines were combing the breezes.
+
+Out from his oak-tree eyrie a Hawk came wheeling and sailing, silent,
+for he had marked the Flyer, and meant him for his prey. Arnaux turned
+neither right nor left, nor raised nor lowered his flight, nor lost a
+wing-beat. The Hawk was in waiting in the gap ahead, and Arnaux passed
+him, even as a Deer in his prime may pass by a Bear in his pathway.
+Home! home! was the only burning thought, the blinding impulse.
+
+Beat, beat, beat, those flashing pinions went with speed unslacked on
+the now familiar road. In an hour the Catskills were at hand. In two
+hours he was passing over them. Old friendly places, swiftly coming
+now, lent more force to his wings. Home! home! was the silent song that
+his heart was singing. Like the traveller dying of thirst, that sees
+the palm-trees far ahead, his brilliant eyes took in the distant smoke
+of Manhattan.
+
+Out from the crest of the Catskills there launched a Falcon. Swiftest
+of the race of rapine, proud of his strength, proud of his wings, he
+rejoiced in a worthy prey. Many and many a Pigeon had been borne to his
+nest, and riding the wind he came, swooping, reserving his strength,
+awaiting the proper time. Oh, how well he knew the very moment! Down,
+down like a flashing javelin; no wild Duck, no Hawk could elude him,
+for this was a Falcon. Turn back now, O Homer, and save yourself; go
+round the dangerous hills. Did he turn? Not a whit! for this was
+Arnaux. Home! home! home! was his only thought. To meet the danger, he
+merely added to his speed; and the Peregrine stooped; stooped at
+what?--a flashing of color, a twinkling of whiteness--and went back
+empty. While Arnaux cleft the air of the valley as a stone from a
+sling, to be lost--a white-winged bird--a spot with flashing halo--and,
+quickly, a speck in the offing. On down the dear valley of Hudson, the
+well-known highway; for two years he had not seen it! Now he dropped
+low as the noon breeze came north and ruffled the river below him.
+Home! home! home! and the towers of a city are coming in view! Home!
+home! past the great spider-bridge of Poughkeepsie, skimming, skirting
+the river-banks. Low now by the bank as the wind arose. Low, alas! too
+low!
+
+What fiend was it tempted a gunner in June to lurk on that hill by the
+margin? what devil directed his gaze to the twinkling of white that
+came from the blue to the northward? Oh, Arnaux, Arnaux, skimming low,
+forget not the gunner of old! Too low, too low you are clearing that
+hill. Too low--too late!  Flash--bang! and the death-hail has reached
+him; reached, maimed, but not downed him. Out of the flashing pinions
+broken feathers printed with records went fluttering earthward. The
+"naught" of his sea record was gone. Not two hundred and ten, but
+twenty-one miles it now read. Oh, shameful pillage! A dark stain
+appeared on his bosom, but Arnaux kept on. Home, home, homeward bound.
+The danger was past in an instant. Home, homeward he steered straight
+as before, but the wonderful speed was diminished; not a mile a minute
+now; and the wind made undue sounds in his tattered pinions. The stain
+in his breast told of broken force; but on, straight on, he flew. Home,
+home was in sight, and the pain in his breast was forgotten. The tall
+towers of the city were in clear view of his far-seeing eye as he
+skimmed by the high cliffs of Jersey. On, on--the pinion might flag,
+the eye might darken, but the home-love was stronger and stronger.
+
+Under the tall Palisades, to be screened from the wind, he passed, over
+the sparkling water, over the trees, under the Peregrines' eyrie, under
+the pirates' castle where the great grim Peregrines sat; peering like
+black-masked highwaymen they marked the on-coming Pigeon. Arnaux knew
+them of old. Many a message was lying undelivered in that nest, many a
+record-bearing plume had fluttered away from its fastness. But Arnaux
+had faced them before, and now he came as before--on, onward, swift,
+but not as he had been; the deadly gun had sapped his force, had
+lowered his speed. On, on; and the Peregrines, biding their time, went
+forth like two bow-bolts; strong and lightning-swift they went against
+one weak and wearied.
+
+Why tell of the race that followed? Why paint the despair of a brave
+little heart in sight of the home he had craved in vain? in a minute
+all was over. The Peregrines screeched in their triumph. Screeching and
+sailing, they swung to their eyrie, and the prey in their claws was the
+body, the last of the bright little Arnaux. There on the rocks the
+beaks and claws of the bandits were red with the life of the hero. Torn
+asunder were those matchless wings, and their records were scattered
+unnoticed. In sun and in storm they lay till the killers themselves
+were killed and their stronghold rifled. And none knew the fate of the
+peerless Bird till deep in the dust and rubbish of that pirate-nest the
+avenger found, among others of its kind, a silver ring, the sacred
+badge of the High Homer, and read upon it the pregnant inscription:
+"ARNAUX, 2590 C."
+
+
+
+
+BADLANDS BILLY
+
+The Wolf that Won
+
+I
+
+THE HOWL BY NIGHT
+
+Do you know the three calls of the hunting Wolf:--the long-drawn deep
+howl, the muster, that tells of game discovered but too strong for the
+finder to manage alone; and the higher ululation that ringing and
+swelling is the cry of the pack on a hot scent; and the sharp bark
+coupled with a short howl that, seeming least of all, is yet a gong of
+doom, for this is the cry "Close in"--this is the finish?
+
+We were riding the Badland Buttes, King and I, with a pack of various
+hunting Dogs stringing behind or trotting alongside. The sun had gone
+from the sky, and a blood-streak marked the spot where he died, away
+over Sentinel Butte. The hills were dim, the valleys dark, when from
+the nearest gloom there rolled a long-drawn cry that all men recognize
+instinctively--melodious, yet with a tone in it that sends a shudder up
+the spine, though now it has lost all menace for mankind. We listened
+for a moment. It was the Wolf-hunter who broke silence: "That's
+Badlands Billy; ain't it a voice? He's out for his beef to-night."
+
+
+II
+
+ANCIENT DAYS
+
+In pristine days the Buffalo herds were followed by bands of Wolves
+that preyed on the sick, the weak, and the wounded. When the Buffalo
+were exterminated the Wolves were hard put for support, but the Cattle
+came and solved the question for them by taking the Buffaloes' place.
+This caused the wolf-war. The ranchmen offered a bounty for each Wolf
+killed, and every cowboy out of work, was supplied with traps and
+poison for wolf-killing. The very expert made this their sole business
+and became known as wolvers. King Ryder was one of these. He was a
+quiet, gentlespoken fellow, with a keen eye and an insight into animal
+life that gave him especial power over Broncos and Dogs, as well as
+Wolves and Bears, though in the last two cases it was power merely to
+surmise where they were and how best to get at them. He had been a
+wolver for years, and greatly surprised me by saying that "never in all
+his experience had he known a Gray-wolf to attack a human being."
+
+We had many camp-fire talks while the other men were sleeping, and then
+it was I learned the little that he knew about Badlands Billy. "Six
+times have I seen him and the seventh will be Sunday, you bet. He takes
+his long rest then." And thus on the very ground where it all fell out,
+to the noise of the night wind and the yapping of the Coyote,
+interrupted sometimes by the deep-drawn howl of the hero himself, I
+heard chapters of this history which, with others gleaned in many
+fields, gave me the story of the Big Dark Wolf of Sentinel Butte.
+
+
+III
+
+IN THE CANYON
+
+Away back in the spring of '92 a wolver was "wolving" on the east side
+of the Sentinel Mountain that so long was a principal landmark of the
+old Plainsmen. Pelts were not good in May, but the bounties were high,
+five dollars a head, and double for She-wolves. As he went down to the
+creek one morning he saw a Wolf coming to drink on the other side. He
+had an easy shot, and on killing it found it was a nursing She-wolf.
+Evidently her family were somewhere near, so he spent two or three days
+searching in all the likely places, but found no clue to the den.
+
+Two weeks afterward, as the wolver rode down an adjoining canyon, he saw
+a Wolf come out of a hole. The ever-ready rifle flew up, and another
+ten-dollar scalp was added to his string. Now he dug into the den and
+found the litter, a most surprising one indeed, for it consisted not of
+the usual five or six Wolf-pups, but of eleven, and these, strange to
+say, were of two sizes, five of them larger and older than the other
+six. Here were two distinct families with one mother, and as he added
+their scalps to his string of trophies the truth dawned on the hunter.
+One lot was surely the family of the She-wolf he had killed two weeks
+before. The case was clear: the little ones awaiting the mother that
+was never to come, had whined piteously and more loudly as their
+hunger-pangs increased; the other mother passing had heard the Cubs;
+her heart was tender now, her own little ones had so recently come, and
+she cared for the orphans, carried them to her own den, and was
+providing for the double family when the rifleman had cut the gentle
+chapter short.
+
+Many a wolver has dug into a wolf-den to find nothing. The old Wolves
+or possibly the Cubs themselves often dig little side pockets and off
+galleries, and when an enemy is breaking in they hide in these. The
+loose earth conceals the small pocket and thus the Cubs escape. When
+the wolver retired with his scalps he did not know that the biggest of
+all the Cubs, was still in the den, and even had he waited about for
+two hours, he might have been no wiser. Three hours later the sun went
+down and there was a slight scratching afar in the hole; first two
+little gray paws, then a small black nose appeared in a soft sand-pile
+to one side of the den. At length the Cub came forth from his hiding.
+He had been frightened by the attack on the den; now he was perplexed
+by its condition.
+
+It was thrice as large as it had been and open at the top now. Lying
+near were things that smelled like his brothers and sisters, but they
+were repellent to him. He was filled with fear as he sniffed at them,
+and sneaked aside into a thicket of grass, as a Night-hawk boomed over
+his head. He crouched all night in that thicket. He did not dare to go
+near the den, and knew not where else he could go. The next morning
+when two Vultures came swooping down on the bodies, the Wolf-cub ran
+off in the thicket, and seeking its deepest cover, was led down a
+ravine to a wide valley. Suddenly there arose from the grass a big
+She-wolf, like his mother, yet different, a stranger, and instinctively
+the stray Cub sank to the earth, as the old Wolf bounded on him. No
+doubt the Cub had been taken for some lawful prey, but a whiff set that
+right. She stood over him for an instant. He grovelled at her feet. The
+impulse to kill him or at least give him a shake died away. He had the
+smell of a young Cub. Her own were about his age, her heart was
+touched, and when he found courage enough to put his nose up and smell
+her nose, she made no angry demonstration except a short half-hearted
+growl. Now, however, he had smelled something that he sorely needed. He
+had not fed since the day before, and when the old Wolf turned to leave
+him, he tumbled after her on clumsy puppy legs. Had the Mother-wolf
+been far from home he must soon have been left behind, but the nearest
+hollow was the chosen place, and the Cub arrived at the den's mouth
+soon after the Mother-wolf.
+
+A stranger is an enemy, and the old one rushing forth to the defense,
+met the Cub again, and again was restrained by something that rose in
+her responsive to the smell. The Cub had thrown himself on his back in
+utter submission, but that did not prevent his nose reporting to him
+the good thing almost within reach. The She-wolf went into the den and
+curled herself about her brood; the Cub persisted in following. She
+snarled as he approached her own little ones, but disarming wrath each
+time by submission and his very cubhood, he was presently among her
+brood, helping himself to what he wanted so greatly, and thus he
+adopted himself into her family. In a few days he was so much one of
+them that the mother forgot about his being a stranger. Yet he was
+different from them in several ways--older by two weeks, stronger, and
+marked on the neck and shoulders with what afterward grew to be a dark
+mane.
+
+Little Duskymane could not have been happier in his choice of a
+foster-mother, for the Yellow Wolf was not only a good hunter with a
+fund of cunning, but she was a Wolf of modern ideas as well. The old
+tricks of tolling a Prairie Dog, relaying for Antelope, houghing a
+Bronco or flanking a Steer she had learned partly from instinct and
+partly from the example of her more experienced relatives, when they
+joined to form the winter bands. But, just as necessary nowadays, she
+had learned that all men carry guns, that guns are irresistible, that
+the only way to avoid them is by keeping out of sight while the sun is
+up, and yet that at night they are harmless. She had a fair
+comprehension of traps, indeed she had been in one once, and though she
+left a toe behind in pulling free, it was a toe most advantageously
+disposed of; thenceforth, though not comprehending the nature of the
+trap, she was thoroughly imbued with the horror of it, with the idea
+indeed that iron is dangerous, and at any price it should be avoided.
+
+On one occasion, when she and five others were planning to raid a Sheep
+yard, she held back at the last minute because some newstrung wires
+appeared. The others rushed in to find the Sheep beyond their reach,
+themselves in a death-trap.
+
+Thus she had learned the newer dangers, and while it is unlikely that
+she had any clear mental conception of them she had acquired a
+wholesome distrust of all things strange, and a horror of one or two in
+particular that proved her lasting safeguard. Each year she raised her
+brood successfully and the number of Yellow Wolves increased in the
+country. Guns, traps, men and the new animals they brought had been
+learned, but there was yet another lesson before her--a terrible one
+indeed.
+
+About the time Duskymane's brothers were a month old his foster-mother
+returned in a strange condition. She was frothing at the mouth, her
+legs trembled, and she fell in a convulsion near the doorway of the
+den, but recovering, she came in. Her jaws quivered, her teeth rattled
+a little as she tried to lick the little ones; she seized her own front
+leg and bit it so as not to bite them, but at length she grew quieter
+and calmer. The Cubs had retreated in fear to a far pocket, but now
+they returned and crowded about her to seek their usual food. The
+mother recovered, but was very ill for two or three days, and those
+days with the poison in her system worked disaster for the brood. They
+were terribly sick; only the strongest could survive, and when the
+trial of strength was over, the den contained only the old one and the
+Black-maned Cub, the one she had adopted. Thus little Duskymane became
+her sole charge; all her strength was devoted to feeding him, and he
+thrived apace.
+
+Wolves are quick to learn certain things. The reactions of smell are
+the greatest that a Wolf can feel, and thenceforth both Cub and
+foster-mother experienced a quick, unreasoning sense of fear and hate
+the moment the smell of strychnine reached them.
+
+
+IV
+
+THE RUDIMENTS OF WOLF TRAINING
+
+With the sustenance of seven at his service the little Wolf had every
+reason to grow, and when in the autumn he began to follow his mother on
+her hunting trips he was as tall as she was. Now a change of region was
+forced on them, for numbers of little Wolves were growing up. Sentinel
+Butte, the rocky fastness of the plains, was claimed by many that were
+big and strong; the weaker must move out, and with them Yellow Wolf and
+the Dusky Cub.
+
+Wolves have no language in the sense that man has; their vocabulary is
+probably limited to a dozen howls, barks, and grunts expressing the
+simplest emotions; but they have several other modes of conveying
+ideas, and one very special method of spreading information--the
+Wolf-telephone. Scattered over their range are a number of recognized
+"centrals." Sometimes these are stones, sometimes the angle of
+cross-trails, sometimes a Buffalo-skull--indeed, any conspicuous object
+near a main trail is used. A Wolf calling here, as a Dog does at a
+telegraph post, or a Muskrat at a certain mud-pie point, leaves his
+body-scent and learns what other visitors have been there recently to
+do the same. He learns also whence they came and where they went, as
+well as something about their condition, whether hunted, hungry,
+gorged, or sick. By this system of registration a Wolf knows where his
+friends, as well as his foes, are to be found. And Duskymane, following
+after the Yellow Wolf, was taught the places and uses of the many
+signal-stations without any conscious attempt at teaching on the part
+of his foster-mother. Example backed by his native instincts was indeed
+the chief teacher, but on one occasion at least there was something
+very like the effort of a human parent to guard her child in danger.
+
+The Dark Cub had learned the rudiments of Wolf life: that the way to
+fight Dogs is to run, and to fight as you run, never grapple, but snap,
+snap, snap, and make for the rough country where Horses cannot bring
+their riders.
+
+He learned not to bother about the Coyotes that follow for the pickings
+when you hunt; you cannot catch them and they do you no harm.
+
+He knew he must not waste time dashing after Birds that alight on the
+ground; and that he must keep away from the little black and white
+Animal with the bushy tail. It is not very good to eat, and it is very,
+very bad to smell.
+
+Poison! Oh, he never forgot that smell from the day when the den was
+cleared of all his foster-brothers.
+
+He now knew that the first move in attacking Sheep was to scatter them;
+a lone Sheep is a foolish and easy prey; that the way to round up a
+band of Cattle was to frighten a Calf.
+
+He learned that he must always attack a Steer behind, a Sheep in front,
+and a Horse in the middle, that is, on the flank, and never, never
+attack a man at all, never even face him. But an important lesson was
+added to these, one in which the mother consciously taught him of a
+secret foe.
+
+
+V
+
+THE LESSON ON TRAPS
+
+A Calf had died in branding-time and now, two weeks later, was in its
+best state for perfect taste, not too fresh, not over-ripe--that is, in
+a Wolf's opinion--and the wind carried this information afar. The
+Yellow Wolf and Duskymane were out for supper, though not yet knowing
+where, when the tidings of veal arrived, and they trotted up the wind.
+The Calf was in an open place, and plain to be seen in the moonlight. A
+Dog would have trotted right up to the carcass, an  old-time Wolf might
+have done so, but constant war had developed constant vigilance in the
+Yellow Wolf, and trusting nothing and no one but her nose, she slacked
+her speed to a walk. On coming in easy view she stopped, and for long
+swung her nose, submitting the wind to the closest possible chemical
+analysis. She tried it with her finest tests, blew all the membranes
+clean again and tried it once more; and this was the report of the
+trusty nostrils, yes, the unanimous report. First, rich and racy smell
+of Calf, seventy per cent.; smells of grass, bugs, wood, flowers,
+trees, sand, and other uninteresting negations, fifteen per cent.;
+smell of her Cub and herself, positive but ignorable, ten per cent.;
+smell of human tracks, two per cent.; smell of smoke, one per cent.; of
+sweaty leather smell, one per cent.; of human body-scent (not
+discernible in some samples), one-half per cent.; smell of iron, a
+trace.
+
+The old Wolf crouched a little but sniffed hard with swinging nose; the
+young Wolf imitatively did the same. She backed off to a greater
+distance; the Cub stood. She gave a low whine; he followed unwillingly.
+She circled around the tempting carcass; a new smell was
+recorded--Coyote trail-scent, soon followed by Coyote body-scent. Yes,
+there they were sneaking along a near ridge, and now as she passed to
+one side the samples changed, the wind had lost nearly every trace of
+Calf; miscellaneous, commonplace, and uninteresting smells were there
+instead. The human track-scent was as before, the trace of leather was
+gone, but fully one-half per cent, of iron-odor, and body smell of man
+raised to nearly two per cent.
+
+Fully alarmed, she conveyed her fear to the Cub, by her rigid pose, her
+air intent, and her slightly bristling mane.
+
+She continued her round. At one time on a high place the human body
+scent was doubly strong, then as she dropped it faded. Then the wind
+brought the full calf-odor with several track-scents of Coyotes and
+sundry Birds. Her suspicions were lulling as in a smalling circle she
+neared the tempting feast from the windward side. She had even advanced
+straight toward it for a few steps when the sweaty leather sang loud
+and strong again, and smoke and iron mingled like two strands of a
+parti-colored yarn. Centring all her attention on this, she advanced
+within two leaps of the Calf. There on the ground was a scrap of
+leather, telling also of a human touch, close at hand the Calf, and now
+the iron and smoke on the full vast smell of Calf were like a snake
+trail across the trail of a whole Beef herd. It was so slight that the
+Cub, with the appetite and impatience of youth, pressed up against his
+mother's shoulder to go past and eat without delay. She seized him by
+the neck and flung him back. A stone struck by his feet rolled forward
+and stopped with a peculiar clink. The danger smell was greatly
+increased at this, and the Yellow Wolf backed slowly from the feast,
+the Cub unwillingly following.
+
+As he looked wistfully he saw the Coyotes drawing nearer, mindful
+chiefly to avoid the Wolves. He watched their really cautious advance;
+it seemed like heedless rushing compared with his mother's approach.
+The Calf smell rolled forth in exquisite and overpowering excellence
+now, for they were tearing the meat, when a sharp clank was heard and a
+yelp from a Coyote. At the same time the quiet night was shocked with a
+roar and a flash of fire. Heavy shots spattered Calf and Coyotes, and
+yelping like beaten Dogs they scattered, excepting one that was killed
+and a second struggling in the trap set here by the ever-active
+wolvers. The air was charged with the hateful smells redoubled now, and
+horrid smells additional. The Yellow Wolf glided down a hollow and led
+her Cub away in flight, but, as they went, they saw a man rush from the
+bank near where the mother's nose had warned her of the human scent.
+They saw him kill the caught Coyote and set the traps for more.
+
+
+
+VI
+
+THE BEGUILING OF THE YELLOW WOLF
+
+The life game is a hard game, for we may win ten thousand times, and if
+we fail but once our gain is gone. How many hundred times had the
+Yellow Wolf scorned the traps; how many Cubs she had trained to do the
+same! Of all the dangers to her life she best knew traps.
+
+October had come; the Cub was now much taller than the mother. The
+wolver had seen them once--a Yellow Wolf followed by another, whose
+long, awkward legs, big, soft feet, thin neck, and skimpy tail
+proclaimed him this year's Cub. The record of the dust and sand said
+that the old one had lost a right front toe, and that the young one was
+of giant size.
+
+It was the wolver that thought to turn the carcass of the Calf to
+profit, but he was disappointed in getting Coyotes instead of Wolves.
+It was the beginning of the trapping season, for this month fur is
+prime. A young trapper often fastens the bait on the trap; an
+experienced one does not. A good trapper will even put the bait at one
+place and the trap ten or twenty feet away, but at a spot that the Wolf
+is likely to cross in circling. A favorite plan is to hide three or
+four traps around an open place, and scatter some scraps of meat in the
+middle. The traps are buried out of sight after being smoked to hide
+the taint of hands and iron. Sometimes no bait is used except a little
+piece of cotton or a tuft of feathers that may catch the Wolf's eye or
+pique its curiosity and tempt it to circle on the fateful, treacherous
+ground. A good trapper varies his methods continually so that the
+Wolves cannot learn his ways. Their only safeguards are perpetual
+vigilance and distrust of all smells that are known to be of man.
+
+The wolver, with a load of the strongest steel traps, had begun his
+autumn work on the 'Cottonwood.'
+
+An old Buffalo trail crossing the river followed a little draw that
+climbed the hills to the level upland. All animals use these trails,
+Wolves and Foxes as well as Cattle and Deer: they are the main
+thoroughfares. A cottonwood stump not far from where it plunged to the
+gravelly stream was marked with Wolf signs that told the wolver of its
+use. Here was an excellent place for traps, not on the trail, for
+Cattle were here in numbers, but twenty yards away on a level, sandy
+spot he set four traps in a twelve-foot square. Near each he scattered
+two or three scraps of meat; three or four white feathers on a spear of
+grass in the middle completed the setting. No human eye, few animal
+noses, could have detected the hidden danger of that sandy ground, when
+the sun and wind and the sand itself had dissipated the man-track taint.
+
+The Yellow Wolf had seen and passed, and taught her giant son to pass,
+such traps a thousand times before.
+
+The Cattle came to water in the heat of the day. They strung down the
+Buffalo path as once the Buffalo did. The little Vesper-birds flitted
+before them, the Cowbirds rode on them, and the Prairie-dogs chattered
+at them, just as they once did at the Buffalo.
+
+Down from the gray-green mesa with its green-gray rocks, they marched
+with imposing solemnity, importance, and directness of purpose. Some
+frolicsome Calves, playing along-side the trail, grew sober and walked
+behind their mothers as the river flat was reached. The old Cow that
+headed the procession sniffed suspiciously as she passed the "trap
+set," but it was far away, otherwise she would have pawed and bellowed
+over the scraps of bloody beef till every trap was sprung and harmless.
+
+But she led to the river. After all had drunk their fill they lay down
+on the nearest bank till late afternoon. Then their unheard dinner-gong
+aroused them, and started them on the backward march to where the
+richest pastures grew.
+
+One or two small birds had picked at the scraps of meat, some
+blue-bottle flies buzzed about, but the sinking sun saw the sandy mask
+untouched.
+
+A brown Marsh Hawk came skimming over the river flat as the sun began
+his color play. Blackbirds dashed into thickets, and easily avoided his
+clumsy pounce. It was too early for the Mice, but, as he skimmed the
+ground, his keen eye caught the flutter of feathers by the trap and
+turned his flight. The feathers in their uninteresting emptiness were
+exposed before he was near, but now he saw the scraps of meat.
+Guileless of cunning, he alighted and was devouring a second lump
+when--clank--the dust was flirted high and the Marsh Hawk was held by
+his toes, struggling vainly in the jaws of a powerful wolf-trap. He was
+not much hurt. His ample wings winnowed from time to time, in efforts
+to be free, but he was helpless, even as a Sparrow might be in a
+rat-trap, and when the sun had played his fierce chromatic scale, his
+swan-song sung, and died as he dies only in the blazing west, and the
+shades had fallen on the melodramatic scene of the Mouse in the
+elephant-trap, there was a deep, rich sound on the high flat butte,
+answered by another, neither very long, neither repeated, and both
+instinctive rather than necessary. One was the muster-call of an
+ordinary Wolf, the other the answer of a very big male, not a pair in
+this case, but mother and son--Yellow Wolf and Duskymane. They came
+trotting together down the Buffalo trail. They paused at the telephone
+box on the hill and again at the old cottonwood root, and were making
+for the river when the Hawk in the trap fluttered his wings. The old
+Wolf turned toward him,-a wounded bird on the ground surely, and she
+rushed forward. Sun and sand soon burn all trail-scents; there was
+nothing to warn her. She sprang on the flopping bird and a chop of her
+jaws ended his troubles, but a horrid sound--the gritting of her teeth
+on steel--told her of peril. She dropped the Hawk and sprang backward
+from the dangerous ground, but landed in the second trap. High on her
+foot its death-grip closed, and leaping with all her strength, to
+escape, she set her fore foot in another of the lurking grips of steel.
+Never had a trap been so baited before. Never was she so unsuspicious.
+Never was catch more sure. Fear and fury filled the old Wolf's heart;
+she tugged and strained, she chewed the chains, she snarled and foamed.
+One trap with its buried log, she might have dragged; with two, she was
+helpless. Struggle as she might, it only worked those relentless jaws
+more deeply into her feet. She snapped wildly at the air; she tore the
+dead Hawk into shreds; she roared the short, barking roar of a crazy
+Wolf. She bit at the traps, at her cub, at herself. She tore her legs
+that were held; she gnawed in frenzy at her flank, she chopped off her
+tail in her madness; she splintered all her teeth on the steel, and
+filled her bleeding, foaming jaws with clay and sand.
+
+She struggled till she fell, and writhed about or lay like dead, till
+strong enough to rise and grind the chains again with her teeth.
+
+And so the night passed by.
+
+And Duskymane? Where was he? The feeling of the time when his
+foster-mother had come home poisoned, now returned; but he was even
+more afraid of her. She seemed filled with fighting hate. He held away
+and whined a little; he slunk off and came back when she lay still,
+only to retreat again, as she sprang forward, raging at him, and then
+renewed her efforts at the traps. He did not understand it, but he knew
+this much, she was in terrible trouble, and the cause seemed to be the
+same as that which had scared them the night they had ventured near the
+Calf.
+
+Duskymane hung about all night, fearing to go near, not knowing what to
+do, and helpless as his mother.
+
+At dawn the next day a sheepherder seeking lost Sheep discovered her
+from a neighboring hill. A signal mirror called the wolver from his
+camp. Duskymane saw the new danger. He was a mere Cub, though so tall;
+he could not face the man, and fled at his approach.
+
+The wolver rode up to the sorry, tattered, bleeding She-wolf in the
+trap. He raised his rifle and soon the struggling stopped.
+
+The wolver read the trail and the signs about, and remembering those he
+had read before, he divined that this was the Wolf with the great
+Cub--the She-wolf of Sentinel Butte.
+
+Duskymane heard the "crack" as he scurried off into cover. He could
+scarcely know what it meant, but he never saw his kind old
+foster-mother again. Thenceforth he must face the world alone.
+
+
+VII
+
+THE YOUNG WOLF WINS A PLACE AND FAME
+
+Instinct is no doubt a Wolf's first and best guide, but gifted parents
+are a great start in life. The dusky-maned cub had had a mother of rare
+excellence and he reaped the advantage of all her cleverness. He had
+inherited an exquisite nose and had absolute confidence in its
+admonitions. Mankind has difficulty in recognizing the power of
+nostrils. A Gray-wolf can glance over the morning wind as a man does
+over his newspaper, and get all the latest news. He can swing over the
+ground and have the minutest information of every living creature that
+has walked there within many hours. His nose even tells which way it
+ran, and in a word renders a statement of every animal that recently
+crossed his trail, whence it came, and whither it went.
+
+That power had Duskymane in the highest degree; his broad, moist nose
+was evidence of it to all who are judges of such things. Added to this,
+his frame was of unusual power and endurance, and last, he had early
+learned a deep distrust of everything strange, and, call it what we
+will, shyness, wariness or suspicion, it was worth more to him than all
+his cleverness. It was this as much as his physical powers that made a
+success of his life. Might is right in wolf-land, and Duskymane and his
+mother had been driven out of Sentinel Butte. But it was a very
+delectable land and he kept drifting back to his native mountain. One
+or two big Wolves there resented his coming. They drove him off several
+times, yet each time he returned he was better able to face them; and
+before he was eighteen months old he had defeated all rivals and
+established himself again on his native ground; where he lived like a
+robber baron, levying tribute on the rich lands about him and finding
+safety in the rocky fastness.
+
+Wolver Ryder often hunted in that country, and before long, he came
+across a five-and-one-half-inch track, the foot-print of a giant Wolf.
+Roughly reckoned, twenty to twenty-five pounds of weight or six inches
+of stature is a fair allowance for each inch of a Wolf's foot; this
+Wolf therefore stood thirty-three inches at the shoulder and weighed
+about one hundred and forty pounds, by far the largest Wolf he had ever
+met. King had lived in Goat country, and now in Goat language he
+exclaimed: "You bet, ain't that an old Billy?" Thus by trivial chance
+it was that Duskymane was known to his foe, as 'Badlands Billy.'
+
+Ryder was familiar with the muster-call of the Wolves, the long, smooth
+cry, but Billy's had a singular feature, a slurring that was always
+distinctive. Ryder had heard this before, in the Cottonwood Canyon, and
+when at length he got a sight of the big Wolf with the black mane, it
+struck him that this was also the Cub of the old Yellow fury that he
+had trapped.
+
+These were among the things he told me as we sat by the fire at night.
+I knew of the early days when any one could trap or poison Wolves, of
+the passing of those days, with the passing of the simple Wolves; of
+the new race of Wolves with new cunning that were defying the methods
+of the ranchmen, and increasing steadily in numbers. Now the wolver
+told me of the various ventures that Penroof had made with different
+kinds of Hounds; of Foxhounds too thin-skinned to fight; of Greyhounds
+that were useless when the animal was out of sight; of Danes too heavy
+for the rough country, and, last, of the composite pack with some of
+all kinds, including at times a Bull-terrier to lead them in the final
+fight.
+
+He told of hunts after Coyotes, which usually were successful because
+the Coyotes sought the plains, and were easily caught by the
+Greyhounds. He told of killing some small Gray-wolves with this very
+pack, usually at the cost of the one that led them; but above all he
+dwelt on the wonderful prowess of "that thar cussed old Black Wolf of
+Sentinel Butte," and related the many attempts to run him down or
+corner him--an unbroken array of failures. For the big Wolf, with
+exasperating persistence, continued to live on the finest stock of the
+Penroof brand, and each year was teaching more Wolves how to do the
+same with perfect impunity.
+
+I listened even as gold-hunters listen to stories of treasure trove,
+for these were the things of my world. These things indeed were
+uppermost in all our minds, for the Penroof pack was lying around our
+camp-fire now. We were out after Badlands Billy.
+
+
+VIII
+
+THE VOICE IN THE NIGHT AND THE BIG TRACK IN THE MORNING
+
+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 reenforcements 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!
+
+
+IX
+
+RUN DOWN AT LAST
+
+It was the roughest of all rough riding. It was a far longer hunt than
+we had expected, and was full of little incidents, for that endless
+line of marks was a minute history of all that the big Wolf had done
+the night before. Here he had circled at the telephone box and looked
+for news; there he had paused to examine an old skull; here he had
+shied off and swung cautiously up wind to examine something that proved
+to be an old tin can; there at length he had mounted a low hill and sat
+down, probably giving the muster-howl, for two Wolves had come to him
+from different directions, and they then had descended to the river
+flat where the Cattle would seek shelter during the storm. Here all
+three had visited a Buffalo skull; there they trotted in line; and
+yonder they separated, going three different ways, to
+meet--yes--here--oh, what a sight, a fine Cow ripped open, left dead
+and uneaten. Not to their taste, it seems, for see! within a mile is
+another killed by them. Not six hours ago, they had feasted. Here their
+trails scatter again, but not far, and the snow tells plainly how each
+had lain down to sleep. The Hounds' manes bristled as they sniffed
+those places. King had held the Dogs well in hand, but now they were
+greatly excited. We came to a hill whereon the Wolves had turned and
+faced our way, then fled at full speed,--so said the trail,--and now it
+was clear that they had watched us from that hill, and were not far
+away.
+
+The pack kept well together, because the Greyhounds, seeing no quarry,
+were merely puttering about among the other Dogs, or running back with
+the Horses. We went as fast as we could, for the Wolves were speeding.
+Up mesas and down coulees we rode, sticking closely to the Dogs, though
+it was the roughest country that could be picked. One gully after
+another, an hour and another hour, and still the threefold track went
+bounding on; another hour and no change, but interminable climbing,
+sliding, struggling, through brush and over boulders, guided by the
+far-away yelping of the Dogs.
+
+Now the chase led downward to the low valley of the river, where there
+was scarcely any snow. Jumping and scrambling down hills, recklessly
+leaping dangerous gullies and slippery rocks, we felt that we could not
+hold out much longer; when on the lowest, dryest level the pack split,
+some went up, some went down, and others straight on. Oh, how King did
+swear! He knew at once what it meant. The Wolves had scattered, and so
+had divided the pack. Three Dogs after a Wolf would have no chance,
+four could not kill him, two would certainly be killed. And yet this
+was the first encouraging sign we had seen, for it meant that the
+Wolves were hard pressed. We spurred ahead to stop the Dogs, to pick
+for them the only trail. But that was not so easy. Without snow here
+and with countless Dog tracks, we were foiled. All we could do was to
+let the Dogs choose, but keep them to a single choice. Away we went as
+before, hoping, yet fearing that we were not on the right track. The
+Dogs ran well, very fast indeed. This was a bad sign, King said, but we
+could not get sight of the track because the Dogs overran it before we
+came.
+
+After a two-mile run the chase led upward again in snow country; the
+Wolf was sighted, but to our disgust, we were on the track of the
+smallest one.
+
+"I thought so," growled young Penroof. "Dogs was altogether too keen
+for a serious proposition. Kind o' surprised it ain't turned out a
+Jack-rabbit."
+
+Within another mile he had turned to bay in a willow thicket. We heard
+him howl the long-drawn howl for help, and before we could reach the
+place King saw the Dogs recoil and scatter. A minute later there sped
+from the far side of the thicket a small Gray-wolf and a Black One of
+very much greater size.
+
+"By golly, if he didn't yell for help, and Billy come back to help him;
+that's great!" exclaimed the wolver. And my heart went out to the brave
+old Wolf that refused to escape by abandoning his friend.
+
+The next hour was a hard repetition of the gully riding, but it was on
+the highlands where there was snow, and when again the pack was split,
+we strained every power and succeeded in keeping them on the big
+"five-fifty track," that already was wearing for me the glamour of
+romance.
+
+Evidently the Dogs preferred either of the others, but we got them
+going at last. Another half hour's hard work and far ahead, as I rose
+to a broad flat plain, I had my first glimpse of the Big Black Wolf of
+Sentinel Butte.
+
+"Hurrah! Badlands Billy! Hurrah! Badlands Billy!" I shouted in salute,
+and the others took up the cry.
+
+We were on his track at last, thanks to himself. The Dogs joined in
+with a louder baying, the Greyhounds yelped and made straight for him,
+and the Horses sniffed and sprang more gamely as they caught the
+thrill. The only silent one was the black-maned Wolf, and as I marked
+his size and power, and above all his long and massive jaws, I knew why
+the Dogs preferred some other trail.
+
+With head and tail low he was bounding over the snow. His tongue was
+lolling long; plainly he was hard pressed. The wolvers' hands flew to
+their revolvers, though he was three hundred yards ahead; they were out
+for blood, not sport. But an instant later he had sunk from view in the
+nearest sheltered canyon.
+
+Now which way would he go, up or down the canyon? Up was toward his
+mountain, down was better cover. King and I thought "up," so pressed
+westward along the ridge. But the others rode eastward, watching for a
+chance to shoot.
+
+Soon we had ridden out of hearing. We were wrong--the Wolf had gone
+down, but we heard no shooting. The canyon was crossable here; we
+reached the other side and then turned back at a gallop, scanning the
+snow for a trail, the hills for a moving form, or the wind for a sound
+of life.
+
+"Squeak, squeak," went our saddle leathers, "puff-puff" our Horses, and
+their feet "ka-ka-lump, ka-ka-lump."
+
+
+X
+
+WHEN BILLY WENT BACK TO HIS MOUNTAIN
+
+We were back opposite to where the Wolf had plunged, but saw no sign.
+We rode at an easy gallop, on eastward, a mile, and still on, when King
+gasped out, "Look at that!" A dark spot was moving on the snow ahead.
+We put on speed. Another dark spot appeared, and another, but they were
+not going fast. In five minutes we were near them, to find--three of
+our own Greyhounds. They had lost sight of the game, and with that
+their interest waned. Now they were seeking us. We saw nothing there of
+the chase or of the other hunters. But hastening to the next ridge we
+stumbled on the trail we sought and followed as hard as though in view.
+Another canyon came in our path, and as we rode and looked for a place
+to cross, a wild din of Hounds came from its brushy depth. The clamor
+grew and passed up the middle.
+
+We raced along the rim, hoping to see the game. The Dogs appeared near
+the farther side, not in a pack, but a long, straggling line. In five
+minutes more they rose to the edge, and ahead of 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 canyon 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 canyon dwindled--rough 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 bay--they 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
+canyon. 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, and--now all you who love the Dogs had better close
+the book--on--up and down--fifteen 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 Tige--but 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 on--down-to their death.
+Slash, chop and heave, from the swiftest to the biggest, to the last,
+down--down--he 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
+aside--the 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
+canyon 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 nothing--we 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
+generous--had 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 ones--half starved before they came--were a double drain,
+for they took the time she might have spent in hunting.
+
+The Northern Hare is the favorite food of the Lynx, and in some years
+she could have killed fifty in one day, but never one did she see this
+season. The plague had done its work too well.
+
+One day she caught a Red-squirrel which had run into a hollow log that
+proved a trap. Another day a fetid Blacksnake was her only food. A day
+was missed, and the little ones whined piteously for their natural food
+and failing drink. One day she saw a large black animal of unpleasant
+but familiar smell. Swiftly and silently she sprang to make attack. She
+struck it once on the nose, but the Porcupine doubled his head under,
+his tail flew up, and the mother Lynx was speared in a dozen places
+with the little stinging javelins. She drew them all with her teeth,
+for she had "learned Porcupine" years before, and only the hard push of
+want would have made her strike one now.
+
+A Frog was all she caught that day. On the next, as she ranged the
+farthest woods in a long, hard hunt, she heard a singular calling
+voice. It was new to her. She approached it cautiously, up wind, got
+many new odors and some more strange sounds in coming. The loud, clear,
+rolling call was repeated as the mother Lynx came to an opening in the
+forest. In the middle of it were two enormous muskrat or beaver-houses,
+far bigger than the biggest she ever before had seen. They were made
+partly of logs and situated, not in a pond, but on a dry knoll. Walking
+about them were a number of Partridges, that is, birds like Partridges,
+only larger and of various colors, red, yellow, and white.
+
+She quivered with the excitement that in a man would have been called
+buck-fever. Food--food--abundance of food, and the old huntress sank to
+earth. Her breast was on the ground, her elbows above her back, as she
+made stalk, her shrewdest, subtlest stalk; one of those Partridges she
+must have at any price; no trick now must go untried, no error in this
+hunt; if it took hours--all day--she must approach with certainty to
+win before the quarry took to flight.
+
+Only a few bounds it was from wood shelter to the great rat-house, but
+she was an hour in crawling that small space. From stump to brush, from
+log to bunch of grass she sneaked, a flattened form, and the Partridges
+saw her not. They fed about, the biggest uttering the ringing call that
+first had fallen on her ear.
+
+Once they seemed to sense their peril, but a long await dispelled the
+fear. Now they were almost in reach, and she trembled with all the
+eagerness of the hunting heart and the hungry maw. Her eye centred on a
+white one not quite the nearest, but the color seemed to hold her gaze.
+
+There was an open space around the rat-house; outside that were tall
+weeds, and stumps were scattered everywhere. The white bird wandered
+behind these weeds, the red one of the loud voice flew to the top of
+the rat-mound and sang as before. The mother Lynx sank lower yet. It
+seemed an alarm note; but no, the white one still was there; she could
+see its feathers gleaming through the weeds. An open space now lay
+about. The huntress, flattened like an empty skin, trailed slow and
+silent on the ground behind a log no thicker than her neck; if she
+could reach that tuft of brush she could get unseen to the weeds and
+then would be near enough to spring. She could smell them now--the rich
+and potent smell of life, of flesh and blood, that set her limbs
+a-tingle and her eyes a-glow.
+
+The Partridges still scratched and fed; another flew to the high top,
+but the white one remained. Five more slow-gliding, silent steps, and
+the Lynx was behind the weeds, the white bird shining through; she
+gauged the distance, tried the footing, swung her hind legs to clear
+some fallen brush, then leaped direct with all her force, and the white
+one never knew the death it died, for the fateful gray shadow dropped,
+the swift and deadly did their work, and before the other birds could
+realize the foe or fly, the Lynx was gone, with the white bird
+squirming in her jaws.
+
+Uttering an unnecessary growl of inborn ferocity and joy she bounded
+into the forest, and bee-like sped for home. The last quiver had gone
+from the warm body of the victim when she heard the sound of heavy feet
+ahead. She leaped on a log. The wings of her prey were muffling her
+eyes, so she laid the bird down and held it safely with one paw. The
+sound drew nearer, the bushes bent, and a Boy stepped into view. The
+old Lynx knew and hated his kind. She had watched them at night, had
+followed them, had been hunted and hurt by them. For a moment they
+stood face to face. The huntress growled a warning that was also a
+challenge and a defiance, picked up the bird and bounded from the log
+into the sheltering bushes. It was a mile or two to the den, but she
+stayed not to eat till the sunlit opening and the big basswood came to
+view; then a low "prr-prr" called forth the little ones to revel with
+their mother in a plenteous meal of the choicest food.
+
+
+III
+
+THE HOME OF THE LYNX
+
+At first Thor, being town-bred, was timid about venturing into the
+woods beyond the sound of Corney's axe; but day by day he went farther,
+guiding himself, not by unreliable moss on trees, but by sun, compass,
+and landscape features. His purpose was to learn about the wild animals
+rather than to kill them; but the naturalist is close kin to the
+sportsman, and the gun was his constant companion. In the clearing, the
+only animal of any size was a fat Woodchuck; it had a hole under a
+stump some hundred yards from the shanty. On sunny mornings it used to
+lie basking on the stump, but eternal vigilance is the price of every
+good thing in the woods. The Woodchuck was always alert and Thor tried
+in vain to shoot or even to trap him.
+
+"Hyar," said Corney one morning, "time we had some fresh meat." He took
+down his rifle, an old-fashioned brass-mounted small-bore, and loading
+with care that showed the true rifleman, he steadied the weapon against
+the door-jamb and fired. The Woodchuck fell backward and lay still.
+Thor raced to the place and returned in triumph with the animal,
+shouting: "Plumb through the head--one hundred and twenty yards."
+
+Corney controlled the gratified smile that wrestled with the corners of
+his mouth, but his bright eyes shone a trifle brighter for the moment.
+
+It was no mere killing for killing's sake, for the Woodchuck was
+spreading a belt of destruction in the crop around his den. Its flesh
+supplied the family with more than one good meal and Corney showed Thor
+how to use the skin. First the pelt was wrapped in hardwood ashes for
+twenty-four hours. This brought the hair off. Then the skin was soaked
+for three days in soft soap and worked by hand, as it dried, till it
+came out a white strong leather.
+
+Thor's wanderings extended farther in search of the things which always
+came as surprises however much he was looking for them. Many days were
+blanks and others would be crowded with incidents, for unexpectedness
+is above all the peculiar feature of hunting, and its lasting charm.
+One day he had gone far beyond the ridge in a new direction and passed
+through an open glade where lay the broken trunk of a huge basswood.
+The size impressed it on his memory. He swung past the glade to make
+for the lake, a mile to the west, and twenty minutes later he started
+back as his eye rested on a huge black animal in the crotch of a
+hemlock, some thirty feet from the ground. A Bear! At last, this was
+the test of nerve he had half expected all summer; had been wondering
+how that mystery "himself" would act under this very trial. He stood
+still; his right hand dived into his pocket and, bringing out three or
+four buckshot, which he carried for emergency, he dropped them on top
+of the birdshot already in the gun, then rammed a wad to hold them down.
+
+The Bear had not moved and the boy could not see its head, but now he
+studied it carefully. It was not such a large one--no, it was a small
+one, yes, very small--a cub. A cub! That meant a mother Bear at hand,
+and Thor looked about with some fear, but seeing no signs of any except
+the little one, he levelled the gun and fired.
+
+Then to his surprise down crashed the animal quite dead; it was not a
+Bear, but a large Porcupine. As it lay there he examined it with wonder
+and regret, for he had no wish to kill such a harmless creature. On its
+grotesque face he found two or three long scratches which proved that
+he had not been its only enemy. As he turned away he noticed some blood
+on his trousers, then saw that his left hand was bleeding. He had
+wounded himself quite severely on the quills of the animal without
+knowing it. He was sorry to leave the specimen there, and Loo, when she
+learned of it, said it was a shame not to skin it when she "needed a
+fur-lined cape for the winter."
+
+On another day Thor had gone without a gun, as he meant only to gather
+some curious plants he had seen. They were close to the clearing; he
+knew the place by a fallen elm. As he came to it he heard a peculiar
+sound. Then on the log his eye caught two moving things. He lifted a
+bough and got a clear view. They were the head and tail of an enormous
+Lynx. It had seen him and was glaring and grumbling; and under its foot
+on the log was a white bird that a second glance showed to be one of
+their own precious hens. How fierce and cruel the brute looked! How
+Thor hated it! and fairly gnashed his teeth with disgust that now, when
+his greatest chance was come, he for once was without his gun. He was
+in not a little fear, too, and stood wondering what to do. The Lynx
+growled louder; its stumpy tail twitched viciously for a minute, then
+it picked up its victim, and leaping from the log was lost to view.
+
+As it was a very rainy summer, the ground was soft everywhere, and the
+young hunter was led to follow tracks that would have defied an expert
+in dryer times. One day he came on piglike footprints in the woods. He
+followed them with little difficulty, for they were new, and a heavy
+rain two hours before had washed out all other trails. After about half
+a mile they led him to an open ravine, and as he reached its brow he
+saw across it a flash of white; then his keen young eyes made out the
+forms of a Deer and a spotted Fawn gazing at him curiously. Though on
+their trail he was not a little startled. He gazed at them
+open-mouthed. The mother turned and raised the danger flag, her white
+tail, and bounded lightly away, to be followed by the youngster,
+clearing low trunks with an effortless leap, or bending down with
+catlike suppleness when they came to a log upraised so that they might
+pass below.
+
+He never again got a chance to shoot at them, though more than once he
+saw the same two tracks, or believed they were the same, as for some
+cause never yet explained, Deer were scarcer in that unbroken forest
+than they were in later years when clearings spread around.
+
+He never again saw them; but he saw the mother once--he thought it was
+the same--she was searching the woods with her nose, trying the ground
+for trails; she was nervous and anxious, evidently seeking. Thor
+remembered a trick that Corney had told him. He gently stooped, took up
+a broad blade of grass, laid it between the edges of his thumbs, then
+blowing through this simple squeaker he made a short, shrill bleat, a
+fair imitation of a Fawn's cry for the mother, and the Deer, though a
+long way off, came bounding toward him. He snatched his gun, meaning to
+kill her, but the movement caught her eye. She stopped. Her mane
+bristled a little; she sniffed and looked inquiringly at him. Her big
+soft eyes touched his heart, held back his hand; she took a cautious
+step nearer, got a full whiff of her mortal enemy, bounded behind a big
+tree and away before his merciful impulse was gone. "Poor thing," said
+Thor, "I believe she has lost her little one."
+
+Yet once more the Boy met a Lynx in the woods. Half an hour after
+seeing the lonely Deer he crossed the long ridge that lay some miles
+north of the shanty. He had passed the glade where the great basswood
+lay when a creature like a big bob-tailed Kitten appeared and looked
+innocently at him. His gun went up, as usual, but the Kitten merely
+cocked its head on one side and fearlessly surveyed him. Then a second
+one that he had not noticed before began to play with the first, pawing
+at its tail and inviting its brother to tussle.
+
+Thor's first thought to shoot was stayed as he watched their gambols,
+but the remembrance of his feud with their race came back. He had
+almost raised the gun when a fierce rumble close at hand gave him a
+start, and there, not ten feet from him, stood the old one, looking big
+and fierce as a Tigress. It was surely folly to shoot at the young ones
+now. The boy nervously dropped some buckshot on the charge while the
+snarling growl rose and fell, but before he was ready to shoot at her
+the old one had picked up something that was by her feet; the boy got a
+glimpse of rich brown with white spots--the limp form of a newly killed
+Fawn. Then she passed out of sight. The Kittens followed, and he saw
+her no more until the time when, life against life, they were weighed
+in the balance together.
+
+
+IV
+
+THE TERROR OF THE WOODS
+
+Six weeks had passed in daily routine when one day the young giant
+seemed unusually quiet as he went about. His handsome face was very
+sober and he sang not at all that morning.
+
+He and Thor slept on a hay-bunk in one corner of the main room, and
+that night the Boy awakened more than once to hear his companion
+groaning and tossing in his sleep. Corney arose as usual in the morning
+and fed the horses, but lay down again while the sisters got breakfast.
+He roused himself by an effort and went back to work, but came home
+early. He was trembling from head to foot. It was hot summer weather,
+but he could not be kept warm. After several hours a reaction set in
+and Corney was in a high fever. The family knew well now that he had
+the dreaded chills and fever of the backwoods. Margat went out and
+gathered a lapful of pipsissewa to make tea, of which Corney was
+encouraged to drink copiously.
+
+But in spite of all their herbs and nursing the young man got worse. At
+the end of ten days he was greatly reduced in flesh and incapable of
+work, so on one of the "well days" that are usual in the course of the
+disease he said:
+
+"Say, gurruls, I can't stand it no longer. Guess I better go home. I'm
+well enough to drive to-day, for a while anyway; if I'm took down I'll
+lay in the wagon, and the horses will fetch me home. Mother'll have me
+all right in a week or so. If you run out of grub before I come back
+take the canoe to Ellerton's."
+
+So the girls harnessed the horses; the wagon was partly filled with
+hay, and Corney, weak and white-faced, drove away on the long rough
+road, and left them feeling much as though they were on a desert island
+and their only boat had been taken from them.
+
+Half a week had scarcely gone before all three of them, Margat, Loo,
+and Thor, were taken down with a yet more virulent form of chills and
+fever.
+
+Corney had had every other a "well day," but with these three there
+were no "well days" and the house became an abode of misery.
+
+Seven days passed, and now Margat could not leave her bed and Loo was
+barely able to walk around the house. She was a brave girl with a fund
+of drollery which did much toward keeping up all their spirits, but her
+merriest jokes fell ghastly from her wan, pinched face. Thor, though
+weak and ill, was the strongest and did for the others, cooking and
+serving each day a simple meal, for they could eat very little,
+fortunately, perhaps, as there was very little, and Corney could not
+return for another week.
+
+Soon Thor was the only one able to rise, and one morning when he
+dragged himself to cut the little usual slice of their treasured bacon
+he found, to his horror, that the whole piece was gone. It had been
+stolen, doubtless by some wild animal, from the little box on the shady
+side of the house, where it was kept safe from flies. Now they were
+down to flour and tea. He was in despair, when his eye lighted on the
+Chickens about the stable; but what's the use? In his feeble state he
+might as well try to catch a Deer or a Hawk. Suddenly he remembered his
+gun and very soon was preparing a fat Hen for the pot. He boiled it
+whole as the easiest way to cook it, and the broth was the first really
+tempting food they had had for some time.
+
+They kept alive for three wretched days on that Chicken, and when it
+was finished Thor again took down his gun--it seemed a much heavier gun
+now. He crawled to the barn, but he was so weak and shaky that he
+missed several times before he brought down a fowl. Corney had taken
+the rifle away with him and three charges of gun ammunition were all
+that now remained.
+
+Thor was surprised to see how few Hens there were now, only three or
+four. There used to be over a dozen. Three days later he made another
+raid. He saw but one Hen and he used up his last ammunition to get that.
+
+His daily routine now was a monotony of horror. In the morning, which
+was his "well time," he prepared a little food for the household and
+got ready for the night of raging fever by putting a bucket of water on
+a block at the head of each bunk. About one o'clock, with fearful
+regularity, the chills would come on, with trembling from head to foot
+and chattering teeth, and cold, cold, within and without. Nothing
+seemed to give any warmth--fire seemed to have lost its power. There
+was nothing to do but to lie and shake and suffer all the slow torture
+of freezing to death and shaking to pieces. For six hours it would keep
+up, and to the torture, nausea lent its horrid aid throughout; then
+about seven or eight o'clock in the evening a change would come; a
+burning fever set in; no ice could have seemed cool to him then;
+water--water--was all he craved, and drank and drank until three or
+four in the morning, when the fever would abate, and a sleep of total
+exhaustion followed.
+
+"If you run out of food take the canoe to Ellerton's," was the
+brother's last word. Who was to take the canoe?
+
+There was but half a Chicken now between them and starvation, and no
+sign of Corney.
+
+For three interminable weeks the deadly program dragged along. It went
+on the same yet worse, as the sufferers grew weaker--a few days more
+and the Boy also would be unable to leave his couch. Then what?
+
+Despair was on the house and the silent cry of each was, "Oh, God! will
+Corney never come?"
+
+
+V
+
+THE HOME OF THE BOY
+
+On the day of that last Chicken, Thor was all morning carrying water
+enough for the coming three fevers. The chill attacked him sooner than
+it was due and his fever was worse than ever before.
+
+He drank deeply and often from the bucket at his head. He had filled
+it, and it was nearly emptied when about two in the morning the fever
+left him and he fell asleep.
+
+In the gray dawn he was awakened by a curious sound not far away--a
+splashing of water. He turned his head to see two glaring eyes within a
+foot of his face--a great Beast lapping the water in the bucket by his
+bed.
+
+Thor gazed in horror for a moment, then closed his eyes, sure that he
+was dreaming, certain that this was a nightmare of India with a Tiger
+by his couch; but the lapping continued. He looked up; yes, it still
+was there. He tried to find his voice but uttered only a gurgle. The
+great furry head quivered, a sniff came from below the shining
+eyeballs, and the creature, whatever it was, dropped to its front feet
+and went across the hut under the table. Thor was fully awake now; he
+rose slowly on his elbow and feebly shouted "Sssh-hi," at which the
+shining eyes reappeared under the table and the gray form came forth.
+Calmly it walked across the ground and glided under the lowest log at a
+place where an old potato pit left an opening and disappeared. What was
+it? The sick boy hardly knew--some savage Beast of prey, undoubtedly.
+He was totally unnerved. He shook with fear and a sense of
+helplessness, and the night passed in fitful sleep and sudden starts
+awake to search the gloom again for those fearful eyes and the great
+gray gliding form. In the morning he did not know whether it were not
+all a delirium, yet he made a feeble effort to close the old cellar
+hole with some firewood.
+
+The three had little appetite, but even that they restrained since now
+they were down to part of a Chicken, and Corney, evidently he supposed
+they had been to Ellerton's and got all the food they needed.
+
+Again that night, when the fever left him weak and dozing, Thor was
+awakened by a noise in the room, a sound of crunching bones. He looked
+around to see dimly outlined against the little window, the form of a
+large animal on the table. Thor shouted; he tried to hurl his boot at
+the intruder. It leaped lightly to the ground and passed out of the
+hole, again wide open.
+
+It was no dream this time, he knew, and the women knew it, too; not
+only had they heard the creature, but the Chicken, the last of their
+food, was wholly gone.
+
+Poor Thor barely left his couch that day. It needed all the querulous
+complaints of the sick women to drive him forth. Down by the spring he
+found a few berries and divided them with the others. He made his usual
+preparations for the chills and the thirst, but he added this--by the
+side of his couch he put an old fish-spear--the only weapon he could
+find, now the gun was useless--a pine-root candle and some matches. He
+knew the Beast was coming back again--was coming hungry. It would find
+no food; what more natural, he thought, than take the living prey lying
+there so helpless? And a vision came of the limp brown form of the
+little Fawn, borne off in those same cruel jaws.
+
+Once again he barricaded the hole with firewood, and the night passed
+as usual, but without any fierce visitor. Their food that day was flour
+and water, and to cook it Thor was forced to use some of his barricade.
+Loo attempted some feeble joke, guessed she was light enough to fly now
+and tried to rise, but she got no farther than the edge of the bunk.
+The same preparations were made, and the night wore on, but early in
+the morning, Thor was again awakened rudely by the sound of lapping
+water by his bed, and there, as before, were the glowing eyeballs, the
+great head, the gray form relieved by the dim light from the dawning
+window.
+
+Thor put all his strength into what was meant for a bold shout, but it
+was merely a feeble screech. He rose slowly and called out: "Loo,
+Margat! The Lynx--here's the Lynx again!"
+
+"May God help ye, for we can't," was the answer.
+
+"Sssh-hi!" Thor tried again to drive the Beast away. It leaped on to
+the table by the window and stood up growling under the useless gun.
+Thor thought it was going to leap through the glass as it faced the
+window a moment; but it turned and glared toward the Boy, for he could
+see both eyes shining. He rose slowly to the side of his bunk and he
+prayed for help, for he felt it was kill or be killed. He struck a
+match and lighted his pine-root candle, held that in his left hand and
+in his right took the old fish-spear, meaning to fight, but he was so
+weak he had to use the fish-spear as a crutch. The great Beast stood on
+the table still, but was crouching a little as though for a spring. Its
+eyes glowed red in the torchlight. Its short tail was switching from
+side to side and its growling took a higher pitch. Thor's knees were
+smiting together, but he levelled the spear and made a feeble lunge
+toward the brute. It sprang at the same moment, not at him, as he first
+thought--the torch and the boy's bold front had had effect--it went
+over his head to drop on the ground beyond and at once to slink under
+the bunk.
+
+This was only a temporary repulse. Thor set the torch on a ledge of the
+logs, then took the spear in both hands. He was fighting for his life,
+and he knew it. He heard the voices of the women feebly praying. He saw
+only the glowing eyes under the bed and heard the growling in higher
+pitch as the Beast was nearing action. He steadied himself by a great
+effort and plunged the spear with all the force he could give it.
+
+It struck something softer than the logs: a hideous snarl came forth.
+The boy threw all his weight on the weapon; the Beast was struggling to
+get at him; he felt its teeth and claws grating on the handle, and in
+spite of himself it was coming on; its powerful arms and claws were
+reaching for him now; he could not hold out long. He put on all his
+force, just a little more it was than before; the Beast lurched, there
+was a growling, a crack, and a sudden yielding; the rotten old
+spear-head had broken off, the Beast sprang out--at him--past
+him--never touched him, but across through the hole and away, to be
+seen no more.
+
+Thor fell on the bed and lost all consciousness.
+
+He lay there he knew not how long, but was awakened in broad daylight
+by a loud, cheery voice:
+
+"Hello! Hello!--are ye all dead? Loo! Thor! Margat!"
+
+He had no strength to answer, but there was a trampling of horses
+outside, a heavy step, the door was forced open, and in strode Corney,
+handsome and hearty as ever. But what a flash of horror and pain came
+over his face on entering the silent shanty!
+
+"Dead?" he gasped. "Who's dead--where are you? Thor?" Then, "Who is it?
+Loo? Margat?"
+
+"Corney--Corney," came feebly from the bunk. "They're in there. They're
+awful sick. We have nothing to eat."
+
+"Oh, what a fool I be!" said Corney again and again. "I made sure ye'd
+go to Ellerton's and get all ye wanted."
+
+"We had no chance, Corney; we were all three brought down at once,
+right after you left. Then the Lynx came and cleared up the Hens, and
+all in the house, too."
+
+"Well, ye got even with her," and Corney pointed to the trail of blood
+across the mud floor and out under the logs.
+
+Good food, nursing, and medicine restored them all.
+
+A month or two later, when the women wanted a new leaching-barrel, Thor
+said: "I know where there is a hollow basswood as big as a hogshead."
+
+He and Corney went to the place, and when they cut off what they
+needed, they found in the far end of it the dried-up bodies of two
+little Lynxes with that of the mother, and in the side of the old one
+was the head of a fish-spear broken from the handle.
+
+
+
+
+LITTLE WARHORSE
+
+The History of a Jack-rabbit
+
+The Little Warhorse knew practically all the Dogs in town. First, there
+was a very large brown Dog that had pursued him many times, a Dog that
+he always got rid of by slipping through a hole in a board fence.
+Second, there was a small active Dog that could follow through that
+hole, and him he baffled by leaping a twenty-foot irrigation ditch that
+had steep sides and a swift current. The Dog could not make this leap.
+It was "sure medicine" for that foe, and the boys still call the place
+"Old Jacky's Jump." But there was a Greyhound that could leap better
+than the Jack, and when he could not follow through a fence, he jumped
+over it. He tried the Warhorse's mettle more than once, and Jacky only
+saved himself by his quick dodging, till they got to an Osage hedge,
+and here the Greyhound had to give it up. Besides these, there was in
+town a rabble of big and little Dogs that were troublesome, but easily
+left behind in the open.
+
+In the country there was a Dog at each farm-house, but only one that
+the Warhorse really feared; that was a long-legged, fierce, black Dog,
+a brute so swift and pertinacious that he had several times forced the
+Warhorse almost to the last extremity.
+
+For the town Cats he cared little; only once or twice had he been
+threatened by them. A huge Tom-cat flushed with many victories came
+crawling up to where he fed one moonlight night. Jack Warhorse saw the
+black creature with the glowing eyes, and a moment before the final
+rush, he faced it, raised up on his haunches,--his hind legs,--at full
+length on his toes,--with his broad ears towering up yet six inches
+higher; then letting out a loud churrr-churrr, his best attempt at a
+roar, he sprang five feet forward and landed on the Cat's head, driving
+in his sharp hind nails, and the old Tom fled in terror from the weird
+two-legged giant. This trick he had tried several times with success,
+but twice it turned out a sad failure: once, when the Cat proved to be
+a mother whose Kittens were near; then Jack Warhorse had to flee for
+his life; and the other time was when he made the mistake of landing
+hard on a Skunk.
+
+But the Greyhound was the dangerous enemy, and in him the Warhorse
+might have found his fate, but for a curious adventure with a happy
+ending for Jack.
+
+He fed by night; there were fewer enemies about then, and it was easier
+to hide; but one day at dawn in winter he had lingered long at an
+alfalfa stack and was crossing the open snow toward his favorite form,
+when, as ill-luck would have it, he met the Greyhound prowling outside
+the town. With open snow and growing daylight there was no chance to
+hide, nothing but a run in the open with soft snow that hindered the
+Jack more than it did the Hound.
+
+Off they went--superb runners in fine fettle. How they skimmed across
+the snow, raising it in little puff-puff-puffs, each time their nimble
+feet went down. This way and that, swerving and dodging, went the
+chase. Everything favored the Dog,--his empty stomach, the cold
+weather, the soft snow,--while the Rabbit was handicapped by his heavy
+meal of alfalfa. But his feet went puff--puff so fast that a dozen of
+the little snow-jets were in view at once. The chase continued in the
+open; no friendly hedge was near, and every attempt to reach a fence
+was cleverly stopped by the Hound. Jack's ears were losing their bold
+up-cock, a sure sign of failing heart or wind, when all at once these
+flags went stiffly up, as under sudden renewal of strength. The
+Warhorse put forth all his power, not to reach the hedge to the north,
+but over the open prairie eastward. The Greyhound followed, and within
+fifty yards the Jack dodged to foil his fierce pursuer; but on the next
+tack he was on his eastern course again, and so tacking and dodging, he
+kept the line direct for the next farm-house, where was a very high
+board fence with a hen-hole, and where also there dwelt his other hated
+enemy, the big black Dog. An outer hedge delayed the Greyhound for a
+moment and gave Jack time to dash through the hen-hole into the yard,
+where he hid to one side. The Greyhound rushed around to the low gate,
+leaped over that among the Hens, and as they fled cackling and
+fluttering, some Lambs bleated loudly. Their natural guardian, the big
+black Dog, ran to the rescue, and Warhorse slipped out again by the
+hole at which he had entered. Horrible sounds of Dog hate and fury were
+heard behind him in the hen-yard, and soon the shouts of men were
+added. How it ended he did not know or seek to learn, but it was
+remarkable that he never afterward was troubled by the swift Greyhound
+that formerly lived in Newchusen.
+
+
+II
+
+Hard times and easy times had long followed in turn and been taken as
+matters of course; but recent years in the State of Kaskado had brought
+to the Jack-rabbits a succession of remarkable ups and downs. In the
+old days they had their endless fight with Birds and Beasts of Prey,
+with cold and heat, with pestilence and with flies whose sting bred a
+loathsome disease, and yet had held their own. But the settling of the
+country by farmers made many changes.
+
+Dogs and guns arriving in numbers reduced the ranks of Coyotes, Foxes,
+Wolves, Badgers, and Hawks that preyed on the Jack, so that in a few
+years the Rabbits were multiplied in great swarms; but now Pestilence
+broke out and swept them away. Only the strongest--the
+double-seasoned--remained. For a while a Jack-rabbit was a rarity; but
+during this time another change came in. The Osage-orange hedges
+planted everywhere afforded a new refuge, and now the safety of a
+Jack-rabbit was less often his speed than his wits, and the wise ones,
+when pursued by a Dog or Coyote, would rush to the nearest hedge
+through a small hole and escape while the enemy sought for a larger one
+by which to follow. The Coyotes rose to this and developed the trick of
+the relay chase. In this one Coyote takes one field, another the next,
+and if the Rabbit attempts the "hedge-ruse" they work from each side
+and usually win their prey. The Rabbit remedy for this, is keen eyes to
+see the second Coyote, avoidance of that field, then good legs to
+distance the first enemy.
+
+Thus the Jack-rabbits, after being successively numerous, scarce, in
+myriads, and rare, were now again on the increase, and those which
+survived, selected by a hundred hard trials, were enabled to flourish
+where their ancestors could not have outlived a single season.
+
+Their favorite grounds were, not the broad open stretches of the big
+ranches, but the complicated, much-fenced fields of the farms, where
+these were so small and close as to be like a big straggling village.
+
+One of these vegetable villages had sprung up around the railway
+station of Newchusen. The country a mile away was well supplied with
+Jack-rabbits of the new and selected stock. Among them was a little
+lady Rabbit called "Bright-eyes," from her leading characteristic as
+she sat gray in the gray brush. She was a good runner, but was
+especially successful with the fence-play that baffled the Coyotes. She
+made her nest out in an open pasture, an untouched tract of the ancient
+prairie. Here her brood were born and raised. One like herself was
+bright-eyed, in coat of silver-gray, and partly gifted with her ready
+wits, but in the other, there appeared a rare combination of his
+mother's gifts with the best that was in the best strain of the new
+Jack-rabbits of the plains.
+
+This was the one whose adventures we have been following, the one that
+later on the turf won the name of Little Warhorse and that afterward
+achieved a world-wide fame.
+
+Ancient tricks of his kind he revived and put to new uses, and ancient
+enemies he learned to fight with new-found tricks.
+
+When a mere baby he discovered a plan that was worthy of the wisest
+Rabbit in Kaskado. He was pursued by a horrible little Yellow Dog, and
+he had tried in vain to get rid of him by dodging among the fields and
+farms. This is good play against a Coyote, because the farmers and the
+Dogs will often help the Jack, without knowing it, by attacking the
+Coyote. But now the plan did not work at all, for the little Dog
+managed to keep after him through one fence after another, and Jack
+Warhorse, not yet full-grown, much less seasoned, was beginning to feel
+the strain. His ears were no longer up straight, but angling back and
+at times drooping to a level, as he darted through a very little hole
+in an Osage hedge, only to find that his nimble enemy had done the same
+without loss of time. In the middle of the field was a small herd of
+cattle and with them a calf.
+
+There is in wild animals a curious impulse to trust any stranger when
+in desperate straits. The foe behind they know means death. There is
+just a chance, and the only one left, that the stranger may prove
+friendly; and it was this last desperate chance that drew Jack Warhorse
+to the Cows.
+
+It is quite sure that the Cows would have stood by in stolid
+indifference so far as the Rabbit was concerned, but they have a
+deep-rooted hatred of a dog, and when they saw the Yellow Cur coming
+bounding toward them, their tails and noses went up; they sniffed
+angrily, then closed up ranks, and led by the Cow that owned the Calf,
+they charged at the Dog, while Jack took refuge under a low thorn-bush.
+The Dog swerved aside to attack the Calf, at least the old Cow thought
+he did, and she followed him so fiercely that he barely escaped from
+that field with his life.
+
+It was a good old plan--one that doubtless came from the days when
+Buffalo and Coyote played the parts of Cow and Dog. Jack never forgot
+it, and more than once it saved his life.
+
+In color as well as in power he was a rarity.
+
+Animals are colored in one or other of two general plans: one that
+matches them with their surroundings and helps them to hide--this is
+called "protective"; the other that makes them very visible for several
+purposes--this is called "directive." Jack-rabbits are peculiar in
+being painted both ways. As they squat in their form in the gray brush
+or clods, they are soft gray on their ears, head, back, and sides; they
+match the ground and cannot be seen until close at hand--they are
+protectively colored. But the moment it is clear to the Jack that the
+approaching foe will find him, he jumps up and dashes away. He throws
+off all disguise now, the gray seems to disappear; he makes a lightning
+change, and his ears show snowy white with black tips, the legs are
+white, his tail is a black spot in a blaze of white. He is a
+black-and-white Rabbit now. His coloring is all directive. How is it
+done? Very simply. The front side of the ear is gray, the back, black
+and white. The black tail with its white halo, and the legs, are tucked
+below. He is sitting on them. The gray mantle is pulled down and
+enlarged as he sits, but when he jumps up it shrinks somewhat, all his
+black-and-white marks are now shown, and just as his colors formerly
+whispered, "I am a clod," they now shout aloud, "I am a Jack-rabbit."
+
+Why should he do this? Why should a timid creature running for his life
+thus proclaim to all the world his name instead of trying to hide?
+There must be some good reason. It must pay, or the Rabbit would never
+have done it.
+
+The answer is, if the creature that scared him up was one of his own
+kind--i.e., this was a false alarm--then at once, by showing his
+national colors, the mistake is made right. On the other hand, if it be
+a Coyote, Fox, or Dog, they see at once, this is a Jack-rabbit, and
+know that it would be waste of time for them to pursue him. They say in
+effect, "This is a Jack-rabbit, and I cannot catch a Jack in open
+race." They give it up, and that, of course, saves the Jack a great
+deal of unnecessary running and worry. The black-and-white spots are
+the national uniform and flag of the Jacks. In poor specimens they are
+apt to be dull, but in the finest specimens they are not only larger,
+but brighter than usual, and the Little Warhorse, gray when he sat in
+his form, blazed like charcoal and snow, when he flung his defiance to
+the Fox and buff Coyote, and danced with little effort before them,
+first a black-and-white Jack, then a little white spot, and last a
+speck of thistledown, before the distance swallowed him.
+
+Many of the farmers' Dogs had learned the lesson: "A grayish Rabbit you
+may catch, but a very black-and-white one is hopeless." They might,
+indeed, follow for a time, but that was merely for the fun of a chivvy,
+and his growing power often led Warhorse to seek the chase for the sake
+of a little excitement, and to take hazards that others less gifted
+were most careful to avoid.
+
+Jack, like all other wild animals, had a certain range or country which
+was home to him, and outside of this he rarely strayed. It was about
+three miles across, extending easterly from the centre of the village.
+Scattered through this he had a number of "forms," or "beds" as they
+are locally called. These were mere hollows situated under a sheltering
+bush or bunch of grass, without lining excepting the accidental grass
+and in-blown leaves. But comfort was not forgotten. Some of them were
+for hot weather; they faced the north, were scarcely sunk, were little
+more than shady places. Some for the cold weather were deep hollows
+with southern exposure, and others for the wet were well roofed with
+herbage and faced the west. In one or other of these he spent the day,
+and at night he went forth to feed with his kind, sporting and romping
+on the moonlight nights like a lot of puppy Dogs, but careful to be
+gone by sunrise, and safely tucked in a bed that was suited to the
+weather.
+
+The safest ground for the Jacks was among the farms, where not only
+Osage hedges, but also the newly arrived barb-wire, made hurdles and
+hazards in the path of possible enemies. But the finest of the forage
+is nearer to the village among the truck-farms--the finest of forage
+and the fiercest of dangers. Some of the dangers of the plains were
+lacking, but the greater perils of men, guns, Dogs, and impassable
+fences are much increased. Yet those who knew Warhorse best were not at
+all surprised to find that he had made a form in the middle of a
+market-gardener's melon-patch. A score of dangers beset him here, but
+there was also a score of unusual delights and a score of holes in the
+fence for times when he had to fly, with at least twoscore of
+expedients to help him afterward.
+
+
+III
+
+Newchusen was a typical Western town. Everywhere in it, were to be seen
+strenuous efforts at uglification, crowned with unmeasured success. The
+streets were straight level lanes without curves or beauty-spots. The
+houses were cheap and mean structures of flimsy boards and tar paper,
+and not even honest in their ugliness, for each of them was pretending
+to be something better than itself. One had a false front to make it
+look like two stories, another was of imitation brick, a third
+pretended to be a marble temple.
+
+But all agreed in being the ugliest things ever used as human
+dwellings, and in each could be read the owner's secret thought--to
+stand it for a year or so, then move out somewhere else. The only
+beauties of the place, and those unintentional, were the long lines of
+hand-planted shade-trees, uglified as far as possible with whitewashed
+trunks and croppy heads, but still lovable, growing, living things.
+
+The only building in town with a touch of picturesqueness was the grain
+elevator. It was not posing as a Greek temple or a Swiss chalet, but
+simply a strong, rough, honest, grain elevator. At the end of each
+street was a vista of the prairie, with its farm-houses, windmill
+pumps, and long lines of Osage-orange hedges. Here at least was
+something of interest--the gray-green hedges, thick, sturdy, and high,
+were dotted with their golden mock-oranges, useless fruit, but more
+welcome here than rain in a desert; for these balls were things of
+beauty, and swung on their long tough boughs they formed with the soft
+green leaves a color-chord that pleased the weary eye.
+
+Such a town is a place to get out of, as soon as possible, so thought
+the traveller who found himself laid over here for two days in late
+winter. He asked after the sights of the place. A white Muskrat stuffed
+in a case "down to the saloon"; old Baccy Bullin, who had been scalped
+by the Indians forty years ago; and a pipe once smoked by Kit Carson,
+proved unattractive, so he turned toward the prairie, still white with
+snow.
+
+A mark among the numerous Dog tracks caught his eye: it was the track
+of a large Jack-rabbit. He asked a passer-by if there were any Rabbits
+in town.
+
+"No, I reckon not. I never seen none," was the answer. A mill-hand gave
+the same reply, but a small boy with a bundle of newspapers said: "You
+bet there is; there's lots of them out there on the prairie, and they
+come in town a-plenty. Why, there's a big, big feller lives right round
+Si Kalb's melon-patch--oh, an awful big feller, and just as black and
+as white as checkers!" and thus he sent the stranger eastward on his
+walk.
+
+The "big, big, awful big one" was the Little Warhorse himself. He
+didn't live in Kalb's melon-patch; he was there only at odd times. He
+was not there now; he was in his west-fronting form or bed, because a
+raw east wind was setting in. It was due east of Madison Avenue, and as
+the stranger plodded that way the Rabbit watched him. As long as the
+man kept the road the Jack was quiet, but the road turned shortly to
+the north, and the man by chance left it and came straight on. Then the
+Jack saw trouble ahead. The moment the man left the beaten track, he
+bounded from his form, and wheeling, he sailed across the prairie due
+east.
+
+A Jack-rabbit running from its enemy ordinarily covers eight or nine
+feet at a bound, and once in five or six bounds, it makes an
+observation hop, leaping not along, but high in the air, so as to get
+above all herbage and bushes and take in the situation. A silly young
+Jack will make an observation hop as often as one in four, and so waste
+a great deal of time. A clever Jack will make one hop in eight or nine,
+do for observation. But Jack Warhorse as he sped, got all the
+information he needed, in one hop out of a dozen, while ten to fourteen
+feet were covered by each of his flying bounds. Yet another personal
+peculiarity showed in the trail he left. When a Cottontail or a
+Wood-hare runs, his tail is curled up tight on his back, and does not
+touch the snow. When a Jack runs, his tail hangs downward or backward,
+with the tip curved or straight, according to the individual; in some,
+it points straight down, and so, often leaves a little stroke behind
+the foot-marks. The Warhorse's tail of shining black, was of unusual
+length, and at every bound, it left in the snow, a long stroke, so long
+that that alone was almost enough to tell which Rabbit had made the
+track.
+
+Now some Rabbits seeing only a man without any Dog would have felt
+little fear, but Warhorse, remembering some former stinging experiences
+with a far-killer, fled when the foe was seventy-five yards away, and
+skimming low, he ran southeast to a fence that ran easterly. Behind
+this he went like a low-flying Hawk, till a mile away he reached
+another of his beds; and here, after an observation taken as he stood
+on his heels, he settled again to rest.
+
+But not for long. In twenty minutes his great megaphone ears, so close
+to the ground, caught a regular sound--crunch, crunch, crunch--the
+tramp of a human foot, and he started up to see the man with the
+shining stick in his hand, now drawing near.
+
+Warhorse bounded out and away for the fence. Never once did he rise to
+a "spy-hop" till the wire and rails were between him and his foe, an
+unnecessary precaution as it chanced, for the man was watching the
+trail and saw nothing of the Rabbit.
+
+Jack skimmed along, keeping low and looking out for other enemies. He
+knew now that the man was on his track, and the old instinct born of
+ancestral trouble with Weasels was doubtless what prompted him to do
+the double trail. He ran in a long, straight course to a distant fence,
+followed its far side for fifty yards, then doubling back he retraced
+his trail and ran off in a new direction till he reached another of his
+dens or forms. He had been out all night and was very ready to rest,
+now that the sun was ablaze on the snow; but he had hardly got the
+place a little warmed when the "tramp, tramp, tramp" announced the
+enemy, and he hurried away.
+
+After a half-a-mile run he stopped on a slight rise and marked the man
+still following, so he made a series of wonderful quirks in his trail,
+a succession of blind zigzags that would have puzzled most trailers;
+then running a hundred yards past a favorite form, he returned to it
+from the other side, and settled to rest, sure that now the enemy would
+be finally thrown off the scent.
+
+It was slower than before, but still it came--"tramp, tramp, tramp."
+
+Jack awoke, but sat still. The man tramped by on the trail one hundred
+yards in front of him, and as he went on, Jack sprang out unseen,
+realizing that this was an unusual occasion needing a special effort.
+They had gone in a vast circle around the home range of the Warhorse
+and now were less than a mile from the farm-house of the black Dog.
+There was that wonderful board fence with the happily planned hen-hole.
+It was a place of good memory--here more than once he had won, here
+especially he had baffled the Greyhound.
+
+These doubtless were the motive thoughts rather than any plan of
+playing one enemy against another, and Warhorse bounded openly across
+the snow to the fence of the big black Dog.
+
+The hen-hole was shut, and Warhorse, not a little puzzled, sneaked
+around to find another, without success, until, around the front, here
+was the gate wide open, and inside lying on some boards was the big
+Dog, fast asleep. The Hens were sitting hunched up in the warmest
+corner of the yard. The house Cat was gingerly picking her way from
+barn to kitchen, as Warhorse halted in the gateway.
+
+The black form of his pursuer was crawling down the far white prairie
+slope. Jack hopped quietly into the yard. A long-legged Rooster, that
+ought to have minded his own business, uttered a loud cackle as he saw
+the Rabbit hopping near. The Dog lying in the sun raised his head and
+stood up, and Jack's peril was dire. He squatted low and turned himself
+into a gray clod. He did it cleverly, but still might have been lost
+but for the Cat. Unwittingly, unwillingly, she saved him. The black Dog
+had taken three steps toward the Warhorse, though he did not know the
+Rabbit was there, and was now blocking the only way of escape from the
+yard, when the Cat came round the corner of the house, and leaping to a
+window-ledge brought a flower-pot rolling down. By that single awkward
+act she disturbed the armed neutrality existing between herself and the
+Dog. She fled to the barn, and of course a flying foe is all that is
+needed to send a Dog on the war-path. They passed within thirty feet of
+the crouching Rabbit. As soon as they were well gone, Jack turned, and
+with-out even a "Thank you, Pussy," he fled to the open and away on the
+hard-beaten road.
+
+The Cat had been rescued by the lady of the house; the Dog was once
+more sprawling on the boards when the man on Jack's trail arrived. He
+carried, not a gun, but a stout stick, sometimes called "dog-medicine,"
+and that was all that prevented the Dog attacking the enemy of his prey.
+
+This seemed to be the end of the trail. The trick, whether planned or
+not, was a success, and the Rabbit got rid of his troublesome follower.
+
+Next day the stranger made another search for the Jack and found, not
+himself, but his track. He knew it by its tail-mark, its long leaps and
+few spy-hops, but with it and running by it was the track of a smaller
+Rabbit. Here is where they met, here they chased each other in play,
+for no signs of battle were there to be seen; here they fed or sat
+together in the sun, there they ambled side by side, and here again
+they sported in the snow, always together. There was only one
+conclusion: this was the mating season. This was a pair of
+Jack-rabbits--the Little Warhorse and his mate.
+
+
+IV
+
+Next summer was a wonderful year for the Jack-rabbits. A foolish law
+had set a bounty on Hawks and Owls and had caused a general massacre of
+these feathered policemen. Consequently the Rabbits had multiplied in
+such numbers that they now were threatening to devastate the country.
+
+The farmers, who were the sufferers from the bounty law, as well as the
+makers of it, decided on a great Rabbit drive. All the county was
+invited to come, on a given morning, to the main road north of the
+county, with the intention of sweeping the whole region up-wind and at
+length driving the Rabbits into a huge corral of close wire netting.
+Dogs were barred as unmanageable, and guns as dangerous in a crowd; but
+every man and boy carried a couple of long sticks and a bag full of
+stones. Women came on horseback and in buggies; many carried rattles or
+horns and tins to make a noise. A number of the buggies trailed a
+string of old cans or tied laths to scrape on the wheel-spokes, and
+thus add no little to the deafening clatter of the drive. As Rabbits
+have marvellously sensitive hearing, a noise that is distracting to
+mankind, is likely to prove bewildering to them.
+
+The weather was right, and at eight in the morning the word to advance
+was given. The line was about five miles long at first, and there was a
+man or a boy every thirty or forty yards. The buggies and riders kept
+perforce almost entirely to the roads; but the beaters were supposed,
+as a point of honor, to face everything, and keep the front unbroken.
+The advance was roughly in three sides of a square. Each man made as
+much noise as he could, and threshed every bush in his path. A number
+of Rabbits hopped out. Some made for the lines, to be at once assailed
+by a shower of stones that laid many of them low. One or two did get
+through and escaped, but the majority were swept before the drive. At
+first the number seen was small, but before three miles were covered
+the Rabbits were running ahead in every direction. After five
+miles--and that took about three hours--the word for the wings to close
+in was given. The space between the men was shortened up till they were
+less than ten feet apart, and the whole drive converged on the corral
+with its two long guide wings or fences; the end lines joined these
+wings, and the surround was complete. The drivers marched rapidly now;
+scores of the Rabbits were killed as they ran too near the beaters.
+Their bodies strewed the ground, but the swarms seemed to increase; and
+in the final move, before the victims were cooped up in the corral, the
+two-acre space surrounded was a whirling throng of skurrying, jumping,
+bounding Rabbits. Round and round they circled and leaped, looking for
+a chance to escape; but the inexorable crowd grew thicker as the ring
+grew steadily smaller, and the whole swarm was forced along the chute
+into the tight corral, some to squat stupidly in the middle, some to
+race round the outer wall, some to seek hiding in corners or under each
+other.
+
+And the Little Warhorse--where was he in all this? The drive had swept
+him along, and he had been one of the first to enter the corral. But a
+curious plan of selection had been established. The pen was to be a
+death-trap for the Rabbits, except the best, the soundest. And many
+were there that were unsound; those that think of all wild animals as
+pure and perfect things, would have been shocked to see how many halt,
+maimed, and diseased there were in that pen of four thousand or five
+thousand Jack-rabbits.
+
+It was a Roman victory--the rabble of prisoners was to be butchered.
+The choicest were to be reserved for the arena. The arena? Yes, that is
+the Coursing Park.
+
+In that corral trap, prepared beforehand for the Rabbits, were a number
+of small boxes along the wall, a whole series of them, five hundred at
+least, each large enough to hold one Jack.
+
+In the last rush of driving, the swiftest Jacks got first to the pen.
+Some were swift and silly; when once inside they rushed wildly round
+and round. Some were swift and wise; they quickly sought the hiding
+afforded by the little boxes; all of these were now full. Thus five
+hundred of the swiftest and wisest had been selected, in, not by any
+means an infallible way, but the simplest and readiest. These five
+hundred were destined to be coursed by Greyhounds. The surging mass of
+over four thousand were ruthlessly given to slaughter.
+
+Five hundred little boxes with five hundred bright-eyed Jack-rabbits
+were put on the train that day, and among them was Little Jack Warhorse.
+
+
+V
+
+Rabbits take their troubles lightly, and it is not to be supposed that
+any great terror was felt by the boxed Jacks, once the uproar of the
+massacre was over; and when they reached the Coursing Park near the
+great city and were turned out one by one, very gently,--yes, gently;
+the Roman guards were careful of their prisoners, being responsible for
+them,--the Jacks found little to complain of, a big inclosure with
+plenty of good food, and no enemies to annoy them.
+
+The very next morning their training began. A score of hatchways were
+opened into a much larger field--the Park. After a number of Jacks had
+wandered out through these doors a rabble of boys appeared and drove
+them back, pursuing them noisily until all were again in the smaller
+field, called the Haven. A few days of this taught the Jack-rabbits
+that when pursued their safety was to get back by one of the hatches
+into the Haven.
+
+Now the second lesson began. The whole band were driven out of a side
+door into a long lane which led around three sides of the Park to
+another inclosure at the far end. This was the Starting Pen. Its door
+into the arena--that is, the Park--was opened, the Rabbits driven
+forth, and then a mob of boys and Dogs in hiding, burst forth and
+pursued them across the open. The whole army went bobbing and bounding
+away, some of the younger ones soaring in a spy-hop, as a matter of
+habit; but low skimming ahead of them all was a gorgeous
+black-and-white one; clean-limbed and bright-eyed, he had attracted
+attention in the pen, but now in the field he led the band with easy
+lope that put him as far ahead of them all as they were ahead of the
+rabble of common Dogs.
+
+"Luk at thot, would ye--but ain't he a Little Warhorse?" shouted a
+villainous-looking Irish stable-boy, and thus he was named. When
+halfway across the course the Jacks remembered the Haven, and all swept
+toward it and in like a snow-cloud over the drifts.
+
+This was the second lesson--to lead straight for the Haven as soon as
+driven from the Pen. In a week all had learned it, and were ready for
+the great opening meet of the Coursing Club.
+
+The Little Warhorse was now well known to the grooms and hangers-on;
+his colors usually marked him clearly, and his leadership was in a
+measure recognized by the long-eared herd that fled with him. He
+figured more or less with the Dogs in the talk and betting of the men.
+
+"Wonder if old Dignam is going to enter Minkie this year?"
+
+"Faix, an' if he does I bet the Little Warhorse will take the gimp out
+av her an' her runnin' mate."
+
+"I'll bet three to one that my old Jen will pick the Warhorse up before
+he passes the grand stand," growled a dog-man.
+
+"An' it's meself will take thot bet in dollars," said Mickey, "an',
+moore than thot, Oi'll put up a hull month's stuff thot there ain't a
+dog in the mate thot kin turrn the Warrhorrse oncet on the hull coorse."
+
+So they wrangled and wagered, but each day, as they put the Rabbits
+through their paces, there were more of those who believed that they
+had found a wonderful runner in the Warhorse, one that would give the
+best Greyhounds something that is rarely seen, a straight stern chase
+from Start to Grand Stand and Haven.
+
+
+VI
+
+The first morning of the meet arrived bright and promising. The Grand
+Stand was filled with a city crowd. The usual types of a racecourse
+appeared in force. Here and there were to be seen the dog-grooms
+leading in leash single Greyhounds or couples, shrouded in blankets,
+but showing their sinewy legs, their snaky necks, their shapely heads
+with long reptilian jaws, and their quick, nervous yellow eyes--hybrids
+of natural force and human ingenuity, the most wonderful
+running-machines ever made of flesh and blood. Their keepers guarded
+them like jewels, tended them like babies, and were careful to keep
+them from picking up odd eatables, as well as prevent them smelling
+unusual objects or being approached by strangers. Large sums were
+wagered on these Dogs, and a cunningly placed tack, a piece of doctored
+meat, yes, an artfully compounded smell, has been known to turn a
+superb young runner into a lifeless laggard, and to the owner this
+might spell ruin. The Dogs entered in each class are paired off, as
+each contest is supposed to be a duel; the winners in the first series
+are then paired again. In each trial, a Jack is driven from the
+Starting-pen; close by in one leash are the rival Dogs, held by the
+slipper. As soon as the Hare is well away, the man has to get the Dogs
+evenly started and slip them together. On the field is the judge,
+scarlet-coated and well mounted. He follows the chase. The Hare,
+mindful of his training, speeds across the open, toward the Haven, in
+full view of the Grand Stand. The Dogs follow the Jack. As the first
+one comes near enough to be dangerous, the Hare balks him by dodging.
+Each time the Hare is turned, scores for the Dog that did it, and a
+final point is made by the kill.
+
+Sometimes the kill takes place within one hundred yards of the
+start--that means a poor Jack; mostly it happens in front of the Grand
+Stand; but on rare occasions it chances that the Jack goes sailing
+across the open Park a good half-mile and, by dodging for time, runs to
+safety in the Haven. Four finishes are possible: a speedy kill; a
+speedy winning of the Haven; new Dogs to relieve the first runners, who
+would suffer heart-collapse in the terrific strain of their pace, if
+kept up many minutes in hot weather; and finally, for Rabbits that by
+continued dodging defy and jeopardize the Dogs, and yet do not win the
+Haven, there is kept a loaded shotgun.
+
+There is just as much jockeying at a Kaskado coursing as at a Kaskado
+horse-race, just as many attempts at fraud, and it is just as necessary
+to have the judge and slipper beyond suspicion.
+
+The day before the next meet a man of diamonds saw Irish Mickey--by
+chance. A cigar was all that visibly passed, but it had a green wrapper
+that was slipped off before lighting. Then a word: "If you wuz slipper
+to-morrow and it so came about that Dignam's Minkie gets done,
+wall,--it means another cigar."
+
+"Faix, an' if I wuz slipper I could load the dice so Minkie would flyer
+score a p'int, but her runnin' mate would have the same bad luck."
+
+"That so?" The diamond man looked interested. "All right--fix it so; it
+means two cigars."
+
+Slipper Slyman had always dealt on the square, had scorned many
+approaches--that was well known. Most believed in him, but there were
+some malcontents, and when a man with many gold seals approached the
+Steward and formulated charges, serious and well-backed, they must
+perforce suspend the slipper pending an inquiry, and thus Mickey Doo
+reigned in his stead.
+
+Mickey was poor and not over-scrupulous. Here was a chance to make a
+year's pay in a minute, nothing wrong about it, no harm to the Dog or
+the Rabbit either.
+
+One Jack-rabbit is much like another. Everybody knows that; it was
+simply a question of choosing your Jack.
+
+The preliminaries were over. Fifty Jacks had been run and killed.
+Mickey had done his work satisfactorily; a fair slip had been given to
+every leash. He was still in command as slipper. Now came the final for
+the cup--the cup and the large stakes.
+
+
+VII
+
+There were the slim and elegant Dogs awaiting their turn. Minkie and
+her rival were first. Everything had been fair so far, and who can say
+that what followed was unfair? Mickey could turn out which Jack he
+pleased.
+
+"Number three!" he called to his partner.
+
+Out leaped the Little Warhorse,--black and white his great ears, easy
+and low his five-foot bounds; gazing wildly at the unwonted crowd about
+the Park, he leaped high in one surprising spy-hop.
+
+"Hrrrrr!" shouted the slipper, and his partner rattled a stick on the
+fence. The Warhorse's bounds increased to eight or nine feet.
+
+"Hrrrrrr!" and they were ten or twelve feet. At thirty yards the Hounds
+were slipped--an even slip; some thought it could have been done at
+twenty yards.
+
+"Hrrrrrr! Hrrrrrrr!" and the Warhorse was doing fourteen-foot leaps,
+not a spy-hop among them.
+
+"Hrrrrr!" wonderful Dogs! how they sailed; but drifting ahead of them,
+like a white sea-bird or flying scud, was the Warhorse. Away past the
+Grand Stand. And the Dogs--were they closing the gap of start? Closing!
+It was lengthening! In less time than it takes to tell it, that
+black-and-white thistledown had drifted away through the Haven
+door,--the door so like that good old hen-hole,--and the Grey-hounds
+pulled up amidst a roar of derision and cheers for the Little Warhorse.
+How Mickey did laugh! How Dignam did swear! How the newspaper men did
+scribble--scribble--scribble!
+
+Next day there was a paragraph in all the papers: "WONDERFUL FEAT OF A
+JACKRABBIT. The Little Warhorse, as he has been styled, completely
+skunked two of the most famous Dogs on the turf," etc.
+
+There was a fierce wrangle among the dog-men. This was a tie, since
+neither had scored, and Minkie and her rival were allowed to run again;
+but that half-mile had been too hot, and they had no show for the cup.
+
+Mickey met "Diamonds" next day, by chance.
+
+"Have a cigar, Mickey."
+
+"Oi will thot, sor. Faix, thim's so foine; I'd loike two--thank ye,
+sor."
+
+
+VIII
+
+From that time the Little Warhorse became the pride of the Irish boy.
+Slipper Slyman had been honorably reinstated and Mickey reduced to the
+rank of Jack-starter, but that merely helped to turn his sympathies
+from the Dogs to the Rabbits, or rather to the Warhorse, for of all the
+five hundred that were brought in from the drive he alone had won
+renown. There were several that crossed the Park to run again another
+day, but he alone had crossed the course without getting even a turn.
+Twice a week the meets took place; forty or fifty Jacks were killed
+each time, and the five hundred in the pen had been nearly all eaten of
+the arena.
+
+The Warhorse had run each day, and as often had made the Haven. Mickey
+became wildly enthusiastic about his favorite's powers. He begot a
+positive affection for the clean-limbed racer, and stoutly maintained
+against all that it was a positive honor to a Dog to be disgraced by
+such a Jack.
+
+It is so seldom that a Rabbit crosses the track at all, that when Jack
+did it six times without having to dodge, the papers took note of it,
+and after each meet there appeared a notice: "The Little Warhorse
+crossed again today;  old-timers say it shows how our Dogs are
+deteriorating."
+
+After the sixth time the rabbit-keepers grew enthusiastic, and Mickey,
+commander-in-chief of the brigade, became intemperate in his
+admiration. "Be jabers, he has a right to be torned loose. He has won
+his freedom loike ivery Amerikin done," he added, by way of appeal to
+the patriotism of the Steward of the race, who was, of course, the real
+owner of the Jacks.
+
+"All right, Mick; if he gets across thirteen times you can ship him
+back to his native land," was the reply.
+
+"Shure now, an' won't you make it tin, sor?"
+
+"No, no; I need him to take the conceit out of some of the new Dogs
+that are coming."
+
+"Thirteen toimes and he is free, sor; it's a bargain."
+
+A new lot of Rabbits arrived about this time, and one of these was
+colored much like Little Warhorse. He had no such speed, but to prevent
+mistakes Mickey caught his favorite by driving him into one of the
+padded shipping-boxes, and proceeded with the gate-keeper's punch to
+earmark him. The punch was sharp; a clear star was cut out of the thin
+flap, when Mickey exclaimed: "Faix, an' Oi'll punch for ivery toime ye
+cross the coorse." So he cut six stars in a row. "Thayer now,
+Warrhorrse, shure it's a free Rabbit ye'll be when ye have yer thirteen
+stars like our flag of liberty hed when we got free."
+
+Within a week the Warhorse had vanquished the new Greyhounds and had
+stars enough to go round the right ear and begin on the left. In a week
+more the thirteen runs were completed, six stars in the left ear and
+seven in the right, and the newspapers had new material.
+
+"Whoop!" How Mickey hoorayed! "An' it's a free Jack ye are, Warrhorrse!
+Thirteen always wuz a lucky number. I never knowed it to fail."
+
+
+IX
+
+"Yes, I know I did," said the Steward. "But I want to give him one more
+run. I have a bet on him against a new Dog here. It won't hurt him now;
+he can do it. Oh, well. Here now, Mickey, don't you get sassy. One run
+more this afternoon. The Dogs run two or three times a day; why not the
+Jack?"
+
+"They're not shtakin' thayre loives, sor."
+
+"Oh, you get out."
+
+Many more Rabbits had been added to the pen,--big and small, peaceful
+and warlike,--and one big Buck of savage instincts, seeing Jack
+Warhorse's hurried dash into the Haven that morning, took advantage of
+the moment to attack him.
+
+At another time Jack would have thumped his skull, as he once did the
+Cat's, and settled the affair in a minute; but now it took several
+minutes, during which he himself got roughly handled; so when the
+afternoon came he was suffering from one or two bruises and stiffening
+wounds; not serious, indeed, but enough to lower his speed.
+
+The start was much like those of previous runs. The Warhorse steaming
+away low and lightly, his ears up and the breezes whistling through his
+thirteen stars.
+
+Minkie with Fango, the new Dog, bounded in eager pursuit, but, to the
+surprise of the starters, the gap grew smaller. The Warhorse was losing
+ground, and right before the Grand Stand old Minkie turned him, and a
+cheer went up from the dog-men, for all knew the runners. Within fifty
+yards Fango scored a turn, and the race was right back to the start.
+There stood Slyman and Mickey. The Rabbit dodged, the Greyhounds
+plunged; Jack could not get away, and just as the final snap seemed
+near, the Warhorse leaped straight for Mickey, and in an instant was
+hidden in his arms, while the starter's feet flew out in energetic
+kicks to repel the furious Dogs. It is not likely that the Jack knew
+Mickey for a friend; he only yielded to the old instinct to fly from a
+certain enemy to a neutral or a possible friend, and, as luck would
+have it, he had wisely leaped and well. A cheer went up from the
+benches as Mickey hurried back with his favorite. But the dog-men
+protested "it wasn't a fair run--they wanted it finished." They
+appealed to the Steward. He had backed the Jack against Fango. He was
+sore now, and ordered a new race.
+
+An hour's rest was the best Mickey could get for him. Then he went as
+before, with Fango and Minkie in pursuit. He seemed less stiff now--he
+ran more like himself; but a little past the Stand he was turned by
+Fango and again by Minkie, and back and across, and here and there,
+leaping frantically and barely eluding his foes. For several minutes it
+lasted. Mickey could see that Jack's ears were sinking. The new Dog
+leaped. Jack dodged almost under him to escape, and back only to meet
+the second Dog; and now both ears were flat on his back. But the Hounds
+were suffering too. Their tongues were lolling out; their jaws and
+heaving sides were splashed with foam. The Warhorse's ears went up
+again. His courage seemed to revive in their distress. He made a
+straight dash for the Haven; but the straight dash was just what the
+Hounds could do, and within a hundred yards he was turned again, to
+begin another desperate game of zigzag. Then the dog-men saw danger for
+their Dogs, and two new ones were slipped--two fresh Hounds; surely
+they could end the race. But they did not. The first two were
+vanquished--gasping--out of it, but the next two were racing near. The
+Warhorse put forth all his strength. He left the first two far
+behind--was nearly to the Haven when the second two came up.
+
+Nothing but dodging could save him now. His ears were sinking, his
+heart was pattering on his ribs, but his spirit was strong. He flung
+himself in wildest zigzags. The Hounds tumbled over each other. Again
+and again they thought they had him. One of them snapped off the end of
+his long black tail, yet he escaped; but he could not get to the Haven.
+The luck was against him. He was forced nearer to the Grand Stand. A
+thousand ladies were watching. The time limit was up. The second Dogs
+were suffering, when Mickey came running, yelling like a
+madman--words--imprecations--crazy sounds:
+
+"Ye blackguard hoodlums! Ye dhirty, cowardly bastes!" and he rushed
+furiously at the Dogs, intent to do them bodily harm.
+
+Officers came running and shouting, and Mickey, shrieking hatred and
+defiance, was dragged from the field, reviling Dogs and men with every
+horrid, insulting name he could think of or invent.
+
+"Fair play! Whayer's yer fair play, ye liars, ye dhirty cheats, ye
+bloody cowards!" And they drove him from the arena. The last he saw of
+it was the four foaming Dogs feebly dodging after a weak and worn-out
+Jack-rabbit, and the judge on his Horse beckoning to the man with the
+gun.
+
+The gate closed behind him, and Mickey heard a bang-bang, an unusual
+uproar mixed with yelps of Dogs, and he knew that Little Jack Warhorse
+had been served with finish No. 4.
+
+All his life he had loved Dogs, but his sense of fair play was
+outraged. He could not get in, nor see in from where he was. He raced
+along the lane to the Haven, where he might get a good view, and
+arrived in time to see--Little Jack Warhorse with his half-masted ears
+limp into the Haven; and he realized at once that the man with the gun
+had missed, had hit the wrong runner, for there was the crowd at the
+Stand watching two men who were carrying a wounded Greyhound, while a
+veterinary surgeon was ministering to another that was panting on the
+ground.
+
+Mickey looked about, seized a little shipping-box, put it at the angle
+of the Haven, carefully drove the tired thing into it, closed the lid,
+then, with the box under his arm, he scaled the fence unseen in the
+confusion and was gone.
+
+'It didn't matter; he had lost his job anyway.' He tramped away from
+the city. He took the train at the nearest station and travelled some
+hours, and now he was in Rabbit country again. The sun had long gone
+down; the night with its stars was over the plain when among the farms,
+the Osage and alfalfa, Mickey Doo opened the box and gently put the
+Warhorse out.
+
+Grinning as he did so, he said: "Shure an' it's ould Oireland thot's
+proud to set the thirteen stars at liberty wance moore."
+
+For a moment the Little Warhorse gazed in doubt, then took three or
+four long leaps and a spy-hop to get his bearings. Now spreading his
+national colors and his honor-marked ears, he bounded into his hard-won
+freedom, strong as ever, and melted into the night of his native plain.
+
+He has been seen many times in Kaskado, and there have been many Rabbit
+drives in that region, but he seems to know some means of baffling them
+now, for, in all the thousands that have been trapped and corralled,
+they have never since seen the star-spangled ears of Little jack
+Warhorse.
+
+
+
+
+SNAP
+
+THE STORY OF A BULL-TERRIER
+
+I
+
+It was dusk on Hallowe'en when first I saw him. Early in the morning I
+had received a telegram from my college chum Jack: "Lest we forget. Am
+sending you a remarkable pup. Be polite to him; it's safer." It would
+have been just like Jack to have sent an infernal machine or a Skunk
+rampant and called it a pup, so I awaited the hamper with curiosity.
+When it arrived I saw it was marked "Dangerous," and there came from
+within a high-pitched snarl at every slight provocation. On peering
+through the wire netting I saw it was not a baby Tiger but a small
+white Bull-terrier. He snapped at me and at any one or anything that
+seemed too abrupt or too near for proper respect, and his snarling
+growl was unpleasantly frequent. Dogs have two growls: one
+deep-rumbled, and chesty; that is polite warning--the retort courteous;
+the other mouthy and much higher in pitch: this is the last word before
+actual onslaught. The Terrier's growls were all of the latter kind. I
+was a dog-man and thought I knew all about Dogs, so, dismissing the
+porter, I got out my all-round
+jackknife--toothpick--nailhammer-hatchet-toolbox-fire-shovel, a
+specialty of our firm, and lifted the netting. Oh, yes, I knew all
+about Dogs. The little fury had been growling out a whole-souled growl
+for every tap of the tool, and when I turned the box on its side, he
+made a dash straight for my legs. Had not his foot gone through the
+wire netting and held him, I might have been hurt, for his heart was
+evidently in his work; but I stepped on the table out of reach and
+tried to reason with him. I have always believed in talking to animals.
+I maintain that they gather something of our intention at least, even
+if they do not understand our words; but the Dog evidently put me down
+for a hypocrite and scorned my approaches. At first he took his post
+under the table and kept up a circular watch for a leg trying to get
+down. I felt sure I could have controlled him with my eye, but I could
+not bring it to bear where I was, or rather where he was; thus I was
+left a prisoner. I am a very cool person, I flatter myself; in fact, I
+represent a hardware firm, and, in coolness, we are not excelled by any
+but perhaps the nosy gentlemen that sell wearing-apparel. I got out a
+cigar and smoked tailor-style on the table, while my little tyrant
+below kept watch for legs. I got out the telegram and read it:
+"Remarkable pup. Be polite to him; it's safer." I think it was my
+coolness rather than my politeness that did it, for in half an hour the
+growling ceased. In an hour he no longer jumped at a newspaper
+cautiously pushed over the edge to test his humor; possibly the
+irritation of the cage was wearing off, and by the time I had lit my
+third cigar, he waddled out to the fire and lay down; not ignoring me,
+however, I had no reason to complain of that kind of contempt. He kept
+one eye on me, and I kept both eyes, not on him, but on his stumpy
+tail. If that tail should swing sidewise once I should feel I was
+winning; but it did not swing. I got a book and put in time on that
+table till my legs were cramped and the fire burned low. About 10 P.M.
+it was chilly, and at half-past ten the fire was out. My Hallowe'en
+present got up, yawned and stretched, then walked under my bed, where
+he found a fur rug. By stepping lightly from the table to the dresser,
+and then on to the mantel-shelf, I also reached bed, and, very quietly
+undressing, got in without provoking any criticism from my master. I
+had not yet fallen asleep when I heard a slight scrambling and felt
+"thump-thump" on the bed, then over my feet and legs; Snap evidently
+had found it too cool down below, and proposed to have the best my
+house afforded.
+
+He curled up on my feet in such a way that I was very uncomfortable and
+tried to readjust matters, but the slightest wriggle of my toe was
+enough to make him snap at it so fiercely that nothing but thick
+woollen bedclothes saved me from being maimed for life.
+
+I was an hour moving my feet--a hair's-breadth at a time--till they
+were so that I could sleep in comfort; and I was awakened several times
+during the night by angry snarls from the Dog--I suppose because I
+dared to move a toe without his approval, though once I believe he did
+it simply because I was snoring.
+
+In the morning I was ready to get up before Snap was. You see, I call
+him Snap-Ginger-snap in full. Some Dogs are hard to name, and some do
+not seem to need it--they name themselves.
+
+I was ready to rise at seven. Snap was not ready till eight, so we rose
+at eight. He had little to say to the man who made the fire. He allowed
+me to dress without doing it on the table. As I left the room to get
+breakfast, I remarked:
+
+"Snap, my friend, some men would whip you into a different way, but I
+think I know a better plan. The doctors nowadays favor the
+'no-breakfast cure.' I shall try that."
+
+It seemed cruel, but I left him without food all day. It cost me
+something to repaint the door where he scratched it, but at night he
+was quite ready to accept a little food at my hands.
+
+In a week we were very good friends. He would sleep on my bed now and
+allow me to move my feet without snapping at them, intent to do me
+serious bodily harm. The no-breakfast cure had worked wonders; in three
+months we were--well, simply man and Dog, and he amply justified the
+telegram he came with.
+
+He seemed to be without fear. If a small Dog came near, he would take
+not the slightest notice; if a medium-sized Dog, he would stick his
+stub of a tail rigidly up in the air, then walk around him, scratching
+contemptuously with his hind feet, and looking at the sky, the
+distance, the ground, anything but the Dog, and noting his presence
+only by frequent high-pitched growls. If the stranger did not move on
+at once, the battle began, and then the stranger usually moved on very
+rapidly. Snap sometimes got worsted, but no amount of sad experience
+could ever inspire him with a grain of caution. Once, while riding in a
+cab during the Dog Show, Snap caught sight of an elephantine St.
+Bernard taking an airing. Its size aroused such enthusiasm in the Pup's
+little breast that he leaped from the cab window to do battle, and
+broke his leg.
+
+Evidently fear had been left out of his make-up and its place supplied
+with an extra amount of ginger, which was the reason of his full name.
+He differed from all other Dogs I have ever known. For example, if a
+boy threw a stone at him, he ran, not away, but toward the boy, and if
+the crime was repeated, Snap took the law into his own hands; thus he
+was at least respected by all. Only myself and the porter at the office
+seemed to realize his good points, and we only were admitted to the
+high honor of personal friendship, an honor which I appreciated more as
+months went on, and by midsummer not Carnegie, Vanderbilt, and Astor
+together could have raised money enough to buy a quarter of a share in
+my little Dog Snap.
+
+
+II
+
+Though not a regular traveller, I was ordered out on the road in the
+autumn, and then Snap and the landlady were left together, with
+unfortunate developments. Contempt on his part--fear on hers; and hate
+on both.
+
+I was placing a lot of barb-wire in the northern tier of States. My
+letters were forwarded once a week, and I got several complaints from
+the landlady about Snap.
+
+Arrived at Mendoza, in North Dakota, I found a fine market for wire. Of
+course my dealings were with the big storekeepers, but I went about
+among the ranchmen to get their practical views on the different
+styles, and thus I met the Penroof Brothers' Cow-outfit.
+
+One cannot be long in Cow country now without hearing a great deal
+about the depredations of the ever wily and destructive Gray-wolf. The
+day has gone by when they can be poisoned wholesale, and they are a
+serious drain on the rancher's profits. The Penroof Brothers, like most
+live cattle-men, had given up all attempts at poisoning and trapping,
+and were trying various breeds of Dogs as Wolf-hunters, hoping to get a
+little sport out of the necessary work of destroying the pests.
+
+Foxhounds had failed--they were too soft for fighting; Great Danes were
+too clumsy, and Greyhounds could not follow the game unless they could
+see it. Each breed had some fatal defect, but the cow-men hoped to
+succeed with a mixed pack, and the day when I was invited to join in a
+Mendoza Wolf-hunt, I was amused by the variety of Dogs that followed.
+There were several mongrels, but there were also a few highly bred
+Dogs--in particular, some Russian Wolfhounds that must have cost a lot
+of money.
+
+Hilton Penroof, the oldest boy, "The Master of Hounds," was unusually
+proud of them, and expected them to do great things.
+
+"Greyhounds are too thin-skinned to fight a Wolf, Danes are too slow,
+but you'll see the fur fly when the Russians take a hand."
+
+Thus the Greyhounds were there as runners, the Danes as heavy backers,
+and the Russians to do the important fighting. There were also two or
+three Foxhounds, whose fine noses were relied on to follow the trail if
+the game got out of view.
+
+It was a fine sight as we rode away among the Badland Buttes that
+October day. The air was bright and crisp, and though so late, there
+was neither snow nor frost. The Horses were fresh, and once or twice
+showed me how a Cow-pony tries to get rid of his rider.
+
+The Dogs were keen for sport, and we did start one or two gray spots in
+the plain that Hilton said were Wolves or Coyotes. The Dogs trailed
+away at full cry, but at night, beyond the fact that one of the
+Greyhounds had a wound on his shoulder, there was nothing to show that
+any of them had been on a Wolf-hunt.
+
+"It's my opinion yer fancy Russians is no good, Hilt," said Garvin, the
+younger brother. "I'll back that little black Dane against the lot,
+mongrel an' all as he is."
+
+"I don't unnerstan' it," growled Hilton. "There ain't a Coyote, let
+alone a Gray-wolf, kin run away from them Greyhounds; them Foxhounds
+kin folly a trail three days old, an' the Danes could lick a Grizzly."
+
+"I reckon," said the father, "they kin run, an' they kin track, an'
+they kin lick a Grizzly, maybe, but the fac' is they don't want to
+tackle a Gray-wolf. The hull darn pack is scairt--an' I wish we had our
+money out o' them."
+
+Thus the men grumbled and discussed as I drove away and left them.
+
+There seemed only one solution of the failure. The Hounds were swift
+and strong, but a Gray-wolf seems to terrorize all Dogs. They have not
+the nerve to face him, and so, each time he gets away, and my thoughts
+flew back to the fearless little Dog that had shared my bed for the
+last year. How I wished he was out here, then these lubberly giants of
+Hounds would find a leader whose nerve would not fail at the moment of
+trial.
+
+At Baroka, my next stop, I got a batch of mail including two letters
+from the landlady; the first to say that "that beast of a Dog was
+acting up scandalous in my room," and the other still more forcible,
+demanding his immediate removal. "Why not have him expressed to
+Mendoza?" I thought. "It's only twenty hours; they'll be glad to have
+him. I can take him home with me when I go through."
+
+
+III
+
+My next meeting with Gingersnap was not as different from the first as
+one might have expected. He jumped on me, made much vigorous pretense
+to bite, and growled frequently, but it was a deep-chested growl and
+his stump waggled hard.
+
+The Penroofs had had a number of Wolf-hunts since I was with them, and
+were much disgusted at having no better success than before. The Dogs
+could find a Wolf nearly every time they went out, but they could not
+kill him, and the men were not near enough at the finish to learn why.
+
+Old Penroof was satisfied that "thar wasn't one of the hull miserable
+gang that had the grit of a Jack-rabbit."
+
+We were off at dawn the next day--the same procession of fine Horses
+and superb riders; the big blue Dogs, the yellow Dogs, the spotted
+Dogs, as before; but there was a new feature, a little white Dog that
+stayed close by me, and not only any Dogs, but Horses that came too
+near were apt to get a surprise from his teeth. I think he quarrelled
+with every man, Horse, and Dog in the country, with the exception of a
+Bull-terrier belonging to the Mendoza hotel man. She was the only one
+smaller than himself, and they seemed very good friends.
+
+I shall never forget the view of the hunt I had that day. We were on
+one of those large, flat-headed buttes that give a kingdom to the eye,
+when Hilton, who had been scanning the vast country with glasses,
+exclaimed: "I see him. There he goes, toward Skull Creek. Guess it's a
+Coyote."
+
+Now the first thing is to get the Greyhounds to see the prey--not an
+easy matter, as they cannot use the glasses, and the ground was covered
+with sage-brush higher than the Dogs' heads.
+
+But Hilton called, "Hu, hu, Dander," and leaned aside from his saddle,
+holding out his foot at the same time. With one agile bound Dander
+leaped to the saddle and there stood balancing on the Horse while
+Hilton kept pointing. "There he is, Dander; sic him--see him down
+there." The Dog gazed earnestly where his master pointed, then seeming
+to see, he sprang to the ground with a slight yelp and sped away. The
+other Dogs followed after, in an ever-lengthening procession, and we
+rode as hard as we could behind them, but losing time, for the ground
+was cut with gullies, spotted with badger-holes, and covered with rocks
+and sage that made full speed too hazardous.
+
+We all fell behind, and I was last, of course, being least accustomed
+to the saddle. We got several glimpses of the Dogs flying over the
+level plain or dropping from sight in gullies to reappear at the other
+side. Dander, the Greyhound, was the recognized leader, and as we
+mounted another ridge we got sight of the whole chase--a Coyote at full
+speed, the Dogs a quarter of a mile behind, but gaining. When next we
+saw them the Coyote was dead, and the Dogs sitting around panting, all
+but two of the Foxhounds and Gingersnap.
+
+"Too late for the fracas," remarked Hilton, glancing at these last
+Foxhounds. Then he proudly petted Dander. "Didn't need yer purp after
+all, ye see."
+
+"Takes a heap of nerve for ten big Dogs to face one little Coyote,"
+remarked the father, sarcastically. "Wait till we run onto a Gray."
+
+Next day we were out again, for I made up my mind to see it to a finish.
+
+From a high point we caught sight of a moving speck of gray. A moving
+white speck stands for Antelope, a red speck for Fox, a gray speck for
+either Gray-wolf or Coyote, and which of these is determined by its
+tail. If the glass shows the tail down, it is a Coyote; if up, it is
+the hated Gray-wolf.
+
+Dander was shown the game as before and led the motley mixed
+procession--as he had before--Greyhounds, Wolfhounds, Foxhounds, Danes,
+Bull-terrier, horsemen. We got a momentary view of the pursuit; a
+Gray-wolf it surely was, loping away ahead of the Dogs. Somehow I
+thought the first Dogs were not running so fast now as they had after
+the Coyote. But no one knew the finish of the hunt. The Dogs came back
+to us one by one, and we saw no more of that Wolf.
+
+Sarcastic remarks and recrimination were now freely indulged in by the
+hunters.
+
+"Pah--scairt, plumb scairt," was the father's disgusted comment on the
+pack. "They could catch up easy enough, but when he turned on them,
+they lighted out for home--pah!"
+
+"Where's that thar onsurpassable, fearless, scaired-o'-nort Tarrier?"
+asked Hilton, scornfully.
+
+"I don't know," said I. "I am inclined to think he never saw the Wolf;
+but if he ever does, I'll bet he sails in for death or glory."
+
+That night several Cows were killed close to the ranch, and we were
+spurred on to another hunt.
+
+It opened much like the last. Late in the afternoon we sighted a gray
+fellow with tail up, not half a mile off. Hilton called Dander up on
+the saddle. I acted on the idea and called Snap to mine. His legs were
+so short that he had to leap several times before he made it,
+scrambling up at last with my foot as a half-way station. I pointed and
+"sic-ed" for a minute before he saw the game, and then he started out
+after the Greyhounds, already gone, with energy that was full of
+promise.
+
+The chase this time led us, not to the rough brakes along the river,
+but toward the high open country, for reasons that appeared later. We
+were close together as we rose to the upland and sighted the chase half
+a mile off, just as Dander came up with the Wolf and snapped at his
+haunch. The Gray-wolf turned round to fight, and we had a fine view.
+The Dogs came up by twos and threes, barking at him in a ring, till
+last the little white one rushed up. He wasted no time barking, but
+rushed straight at the Wolf's throat and missed it, yet seemed to get
+him by the nose; then the ten big Dogs closed in, and in two minutes
+the Wolf was dead. We had ridden hard to be in at the finish, and
+though our view was distant, we saw at least that Snap had lived up to
+the telegram, as well as to my promises for him.
+
+Now it was my turn to crow, and I did not lose the chance. Snap had
+shown them how, and at last the Mendoza pack had killed a Gray-wolf
+without help from the men.
+
+There were two things to mar the victory somewhat: first, it was a
+young Wolf, a mere Cub, hence his foolish choice of country; second,
+Snap was wounded--the Wolf had given him a bad cut in the shoulder.
+
+As we rode in proud procession home, I saw he limped a little. "Here,"
+I cried, "come up, Snap." He tried once or twice to jump to the saddle,
+but could not. "Here, Hilton, lift him up to me."
+
+"Thanks; I'll let you handle your own rattlesnakes," was the reply, for
+all knew now that it was not safe to meddle with his person. "Here,
+Snap, take hold," I said, and held my quirt to him. He seized it, and
+by that I lifted him to the front of my saddle and so carried him home.
+I cared for him as though he had been a baby. He had shown those
+Cattle-men how to fill the weak place in their pack; the Foxhounds may
+be good and the Greyhounds swift and the Russians and Danes fighters,
+but they are no use at all without the crowning moral force of grit,
+that none can supply so well as a Bull-terrier. On that day the
+Cattlemen learned how to manage the Wolf question, as you will find if
+ever you are at Mendoza; for every successful Wolf pack there has with
+it a Bull-terrier, preferably of the Snap-Mendoza breed.
+
+
+IV
+
+Next day was Hallowe'en, the anniversary of Snap's advent. The weather
+was clear, bright, not too cold, and there was no snow on the ground.
+The men usually celebrated the day with a hunt of some sort, and now,
+of course, Wolves were the one object. To the disappointment of all,
+Snap was in bad shape with his wound. He slept, as usual, at my feet,
+and bloody stains now marked the place. He was not in condition to
+fight, but we were bound to have a Wolf-hunt, so he was beguiled to an
+outhouse and locked up, while we went off, I, at least, with a sense of
+impending disaster. I knew we should fail without my Dog, but I did not
+realize how bad a failure it was to be.
+
+Afar among the buttes of Skull Creek we had roamed when a white ball
+appeared bounding through the sage-brush, and in a minute more Snap
+came, growling and stump-waggling, up to my Horse's side. I could not
+send him back; he would take no such orders, not even from me. His
+wound was looking bad, so I called him, held down the quirt, and jumped
+him to my saddle.
+
+"There," I thought, "I'll keep you safe till we get home." 'Yes, I
+thought; but I reckoned not with Snap. The voice of Hilton, "Hu, hu,"
+announced that he had sighted a Wolf. Dander and Riley, his rival, both
+sprang to the point of observation, with the result that they collided
+and fell together, sprawling, in the sage. But Snap, gazing hard, had
+sighted the Wolf, not so very far off, and before I knew it, he leaped
+from the saddle and bounded zigzag, high, low, in and under the sage,
+straight for the enemy, leading the whole pack for a few minutes. Not
+far, of course. The great Greyhounds sighted the moving speck, and the
+usual procession strung out on the plain. It promised to be a fine
+hunt, for the Wolf had less than half a mile start and all the Dogs
+were fully interested.
+
+"They 'ye turned up Grizzly Gully," cried Garvin. "This way, and we can
+head them off."
+
+So we turned and rode hard around the north side of Hulmer's Butte,
+while the chase seemed to go round the south.
+
+We galloped to the top of Cedar Ridge and were about to ride down, when
+Hilton shouted, "By George, here he is! We're right onto him." He
+leaped from his Horse, dropped the bridle, and ran forward. I did the
+same. A great Gray-wolf came lumbering across an open plain toward us.
+His head was low, his tail out level, and fifty yards behind him was
+Dander, sailing like a Hawk over the ground, going twice as fast as the
+Wolf. In a minute the Hound was alongside and snapped, but bounded
+back, as the Wolf turned on him. They were just below us now and not
+fifty feet away. Garvin drew his revolver, but in a fateful moment
+Hilton interfered: "No; no; let's see it out." In a few seconds the
+next Greyhound arrived, then the rest in order of swiftness. Each came
+up full of fight and fury, determined to go right in and tear the
+Gray-wolf to pieces; but each in turn swerved aside, and leaped and
+barked around at a safe distance. After a minute or so the Russians
+appeared--fine big Dogs they were.  Their distant intention no doubt
+was to dash right at the old Wolf; but his fearless front, his sinewy
+frame and death-dealing jaws, awed them long before they were near him,
+and they also joined the ring, while the desperado in the middle faced
+this way and that, ready for any or all.
+
+Now the Danes came up, huge-limbed creatures, any one of them as heavy
+as the Wolf.  I heard their heavy breathing tighten into a threatening
+sound as they plunged ahead; eager to tear the foe to pieces; but when
+they saw him there, grim fearless, mighty of jaw, tireless of limb,
+ready to die if need be, but sure of this, he would not die
+alone--well, those great Danes--all three of them--were stricken, as
+the rest had been, with a sudden bashfulness: Yes, they would go right
+in presently--not now, but as soon as they had got their breath; they
+were not afraid of a Wolf, oh, no.  I could read their courage in their
+voices.  They knew perfectly well that the first Dog to go in was going
+to get hurt, but never mind that--presently; they would bark a little
+more to get up enthusiasm.
+
+And as the ten big Dogs were leaping round the silent Wolf at bay,
+there was a rustling in the sage at the far side of place; then a
+snow-white rubber ball, it seemed, came bounding, but grew into a
+little Bull-terrier, and Snap, slowest of the pack, and last, came
+panting hard, so hard he seemed gasping.  Over the level open he made,
+straight to the changing ring around the Cattle-killer whom none dared
+face.  Did he hesitate? Not for an instant; through the ring of the
+yelping pack, straight for the old despot of range, right for his
+throat he sprang; and the Gray-wolf struck with his twenty scimitars.
+But the little one, if fooled at all, sprang again, and then what came
+I hardly knew. There was a whirling mass of Dogs. I thought I saw the
+little White One clinched on the Gray-wolf's nose. The pack was all
+around; we could not help them now.  But they did not need us; they had
+a leader of dauntless mettle, and when in a little while the final
+scene was done, there on the ground lay the Gray-wolf, a giant of his
+kind, and clinched on his nose was the little white Dog.
+
+We were standing around within fifteen feet, ready to help, but had no
+chance till were not needed.
+
+The Wolf was dead, and I hallooed to Snap, but he did not move. I bent
+over him. "Snap--Snap, it's all over; you've killed him." But the Dog
+was very still, and now I saw two deep wounds in his body.  I tried to
+lift him. "Let go, old fellow; it's all over." He growled feebly, and
+at last go of the Wolf. The rough cattle-men were kneeling around him
+now; old Penroof's voice was trembling as he muttered, "I wouldn't had
+him hurt for twenty steers."  I lifted him in my arms, called to him
+and stroked his head.  He snarled a little, a farewell as it proved,
+for he licked my hand as he did so, then never snarled again.
+
+That was a sad ride home for me. There was the skin of a monstrous
+Wolf, but no other hint of triumph.  We buried the fearless one on a
+butte back of the Ranch-house.  Penroof, as he stood by, was heard to
+grumble: "By jingo, that was grit--cl'ar grit!  Ye can't raise Cattle
+without grit."
+
+
+
+
+THE WINNIPEG WOLF
+
+I
+
+It was during the great blizzard of 1882 that I first met the Winnipeg
+Wolf. I had left St. Paul in the middle of March to cross the prairies
+to Winnipeg, expecting to be there in twenty-four hours, but the Storm
+King had planned it otherwise and sent a heavy-laden eastern blast. The
+snow came down in a furious, steady torrent, hour after hour. Never
+before had I seen such a storm. All the world was lost in snow--snow,
+snow, snow--whirling, biting, stinging, drifting snow--and the puffing,
+monstrous engine was compelled to stop at the command of those tiny
+feathery crystals of spotless purity.
+
+Many strong hands with shovels came to the delicately curled snowdrifts
+that barred our way, and in an hour the engine could pass--only to
+stick in another drift yet farther on. It was dreary work--day after
+day, night after night, sticking in the drifts, digging ourselves out,
+and still the snow went whirling and playing about us.
+
+"Twenty-two hours to Emerson," said the official; but nearly two weeks
+of digging passed before we did reach Emerson, and the poplar country
+where the thickets stop all drifting of the snow. Thenceforth the train
+went swiftly, the poplar woods grew more thickly--we passed for miles
+through solid forests, then perhaps through an open space. As we neared
+St. Boniface, the eastern outskirts of Winnipeg, we dashed across a
+little glade fifty yards wide, and there in the middle was a group that
+stirred me to the very soul.
+
+In plain view was a great rabble of Dogs, large and small, black,
+white, and yellow, wriggling and heaving this way and that way in a
+rude ring; to one side was a little yellow Dog stretched and quiet in
+the snow; on the outer part of the ring was a huge black Dog bounding
+about and barking, but keeping ever behind the moving mob. And in the
+midst, the centre and cause of it all, was a great, grim, Wolf.
+
+Wolf? He looked like a Lion. There he stood, all
+alone--resolute-calm--with bristling mane, and legs braced firmly,
+glancing this way and that, to be ready for an attack in any direction.
+There was a curl on his lips--it looked like scorn, but I suppose it
+was really the fighting snarl of tooth display. Led by a
+wolfish-looking Dog that should have been ashamed, the pack dashed in,
+for the twentieth time no doubt. But the great gray form leaped here
+and there, and chop, chop, chop went those fearful jaws, no other sound
+from the lonely warrior; but a death yelp from more than one of his
+foes, as those that were able again sprang back, and left him
+statuesque as before, untamed, unmaimed, and contemptuous of them all.
+
+How I wished for the train to stick in a snowdrift now, as so often
+before, for all my heart went out to that Gray-wolf; I longed to go and
+help him. But the snow-deep glade flashed by, the poplar trunks shut
+out the view, and we went on to our journey's end.
+
+This was all I saw, and it seemed little; but before many days had
+passed I knew surely that I had been favored with a view, in broad
+daylight, of a rare and wonderful creature, none less than the Winnipeg
+Wolf.
+
+His was a strange history--a Wolf that preferred the city to the
+country, that passed by the Sheep to kill the Dogs, and that always
+hunted alone.
+
+In telling the story of le Garou, as he was called by some, although I
+speak of these things as locally familiar, it is very sure that to many
+citizens of the town they were quite unknown. The smug shopkeeper on
+the main street had scarcely heard of him until the day after the final
+scene at the slaughter-house, when his great carcass was carried to
+Hine's taxidermist shop and there mounted, to be exhibited later at the
+Chicago World's Fair, and to be destroyed, alas! in the fire that
+reduced the Mulvey Grammar School to ashes in 1896.
+
+
+II
+
+It seems that Fiddler Paul, the handsome ne'er-do-well of the
+half-breed world, readier to hunt than to work, was prowling with his
+gun along the wooded banks of the Red River by Kildonan, one day in the
+June of 1880. He saw a Gray-wolf come out of a hole in a bank and fired
+a chance shot that killed it. Having made sure, by sending in his Dog,
+that no other large Wolf was there, he crawled into the den, and found,
+to his utter amazement and delight, eight young Wolves--nine bounties
+of ten dollars each. How much is that? A fortune surely. He used a
+stick vigorously, and with the assistance of the yellow Cur, all the
+little ones were killed but one. There is a superstition about the last
+of a brood--it is not lucky to kill it. So Paul set out for town with
+the scalp of the old Wolf, the scalps of the seven young, and the last
+Cub alive.
+
+The saloon-keeper, who got the dollars for which the scalps were
+exchanged, soon got the living Cub. He grew up at the end of a chain,
+but developed a chest and jaws that no Hound in town could match. He
+was kept in the yard for the amusement of customers, and this amusement
+usually took the form of baiting the captive with Dogs. The young Wolf
+was bitten and mauled nearly to death on several occasions, but he
+recovered, and each month there were fewer Dogs willing to face him.
+His life was as hard as it could be. There was but one gleam of
+gentleness in it all, and that was the friendship that grew up between
+himself and Little Jim, the son of the saloonkeeper.
+
+Jim was a wilful little rascal with a mind of his own. He took to the
+Wolf because it had killed a Dog that had bitten him. He thenceforth
+fed the Wolf and made a pet of it, and the Wolf responded by allowing
+him to take liberties which no one else dared venture.
+
+Jim's father was not a model parent. He usually spoiled his son, but at
+times would get in a rage and beat him cruelly for some trifle. The
+child was quick to learn that he was beaten, not because he had done
+wrong, but because he had made his father angry. If, therefore, he
+could keep out of the way until that anger had cooled, he had no
+further cause for worry. One day, seeking safety in flight with his
+father behind him, he dashed into the Wolf's kennel, and his grizzly
+chum thus unceremoniously awakened turned to the door, displayed a
+double row of ivories, and plainly said to the father: "Don't you dare
+to touch him."
+
+If Hogan could have shot the Wolf then and there he would have done so,
+but the chances were about equal of killing his son, so he let them
+alone and, half an hour later, laughed at the whole affair. Thenceforth
+Little Jim made for the Wolf's den whenever he was in danger, and
+sometimes the only notice any one had that the boy had been in mischief
+was seeing him sneak in behind the savage captive.
+
+Economy in hired help was a first principle with Hogan. Therefore his
+"barkeep" was a Chinaman. He was a timid, harmless creature, so Paul
+des Roches did not hesitate to bully him. One day, finding Hogan out,
+and the Chinaman alone in charge, Paul, already tipsy, demanded a drink
+on credit, and Tung Ling, acting on standing orders, refused. His
+artless explanation, "No good, neber pay," so far from clearing up the
+difficulty, brought Paul staggering back of the bar to avenge the
+insult. The Celestial might have suffered grievous bodily hurt, but
+that Little Jim was at hand and had a long stick, with which he
+adroitly tripped up the Fiddler and sent him sprawling. He staggered to
+his feet swearing he would have Jim's life. But the child was near the
+back door and soon found refuge in the Wolf's kennel.
+
+Seeing that the boy had a protector, Paul got the long stick, and from
+a safe distance began to belabor the Wolf, The grizzly creature raged
+at the end of the chain, but, though he parried many cruel blows by
+seizing the stick in his teeth, he was suffering severely, when Paul
+realized that Jim, whose tongue had not been idle, was fumbling away
+with nervous fingers to set the Wolf loose, and soon would succeed.
+Indeed, it would have been done already but for the strain that the
+Wolf kept on the chain.
+
+The thought of being in the yard at the mercy of the huge animal that
+he had so enraged, gave the brave Paul a thrill of terror.
+
+Jim's wheedling voice was heard--"Hold on now, Wolfie; back up just a
+little, and you shall have him. Now do; there's a good Wolfie"--that
+was enough; the Fiddler fled and carefully closed all doors behind him.
+
+Thus the friendship between Jim and his pet grew stronger, and the
+Wolf, as he developed his splendid natural powers, gave daily evidence
+also of the mortal hatred he bore to men that smelt of whiskey and to
+all Dogs, the causes of his sufferings. This peculiarity, coupled with
+his love for the child--and all children seemed to be included to some
+extent--grew with his growth and seemed to prove the ruling force of
+his life.
+
+
+III
+
+At this time--that is, the fall of 1881--there were great complaints
+among the Qu'Appelle ranchmen that the Wolves were increasing in their
+country and committing great depredations among the stock. Poisoning
+and trapping had proved failures, and when a distinguished German
+visitor appeared at the Club in Winnipeg and announced that he was
+bringing some Dogs that could easily rid the country of Wolves, he was
+listened to with unusual interest. For the cattle-men are fond of
+sport, and the idea of helping their business by establishing a kennel
+of Wolfhounds was very alluring.
+
+The German soon produced as samples of his Dogs, two magnificent Danes,
+one white, the other blue with black spots and a singular white eye
+that completed an expression of unusual ferocity. Each of these great
+creatures weighed nearly two hundred pounds. They were muscled like
+Tigers, and the German was readily believed when he claimed that these
+two alone were more than a match for the biggest Wolf. He thus
+described their method of hunting: "All you have to do is show them the
+trail and, even if it is a day old, away they go on it. They cannot be
+shaken off. They will soon find that Wolf, no matter how he doubles and
+hides. Then they close on him. He turns to run, the blue Dog takes him
+by the haunch and throws him like this," and the German jerked a roll
+of bread into the air; "then before he touches the ground the white Dog
+has his head, the other his tail, and they pull him apart like that."
+
+It sounded all right; at any rate every one was eager to put it to the
+proof. Several of the residents said there was a fair chance of finding
+a Gray-wolf along the Assiniboine, so a hunt was organized. But they
+searched in vain for three days and were giving it up when some one
+suggested that down at Hogan's saloon was a Wolf chained up, that they
+could get for the value of the bounty, and though little more than a
+year old he would serve to show what the Dogs could do.
+
+The value of Hogan's Wolf went up at once when he knew the importance
+of the occasion; besides, "he had conscientious scruples." All his
+scruples vanished, however, when his views as to price were met. His
+first care was to get Little Jim out of the way by sending him on an
+errand to his grandma's; then the Wolf was driven into his box and
+nailed in. The box was put in a wagon and taken to the open prairie
+along the Portage trail.
+
+The Dogs could scarcely be held back, they were so eager for the fray,
+as soon as they smelt the Wolf. But several strong men held their
+leash, the wagon was drawn half a mile farther, and the Wolf was turned
+out with some difficulty. At first he looked scared and sullen. He
+tried to get out of sight, but made no attempt to bite. However, on
+finding himself free, as well as hissed and hooted at, he started off
+at a slinking trot toward the south, where the land seemed broken. The
+Dogs were released at that moment, and, baying furiously, they bounded
+away after the young Wolf. The men cheered loudly and rode behind them.
+From the very first it was clear that he had no chance. The Dogs were
+much swifter; the white one could run like a Greyhound. The German was
+wildly enthusiastic as she flew across the prairie, gaining visibly on
+the Wolf at every second. Many bets were offered on the Dogs, but there
+were no takers. The only bets accepted were Dog against Dog. The young
+Wolf went at speed now, but within a mile the white Dog was right
+behind him--was closing in.
+
+The German shouted: "Now watch and see that Wolf go up in the air."
+
+In a moment the runners were together. Both recoiled, neither went up
+in the air, but the white Dog rolled over with a fearful gash in her
+shoulder--out of the fight, if not killed. Ten seconds later the
+Blue-spot arrived, open-mouthed. This meeting was as quick and almost
+as mysterious as the first. The animals barely touched each other. The
+gray one bounded aside, his head out of sight for a moment in the flash
+of quick movement. Spot reeled and showed a bleeding flank. Urged on by
+the men, he assaulted again, but only to get another wound that taught
+him to keep off.
+
+Now came the keeper with four more huge Dogs. They turned these loose,
+and the men armed with clubs and lassos were closing to help in
+finishing the Wolf, when a small boy came charging over the plain on a
+Pony. He leaped to the ground and wriggling through the ring flung his
+arms around the Wolf's neck. He called him his "Wolfie pet," his "dear
+Wolfie"--the Wolf licked his face and wagged its tail--then the child
+turned on the crowd and through his streaming tears, he--Well it would
+not do to print what he said. He was only nine, but he was very
+old-fashioned, as well as a rude little boy. He had been brought up in
+a low saloon, and had been an apt pupil at picking up the vile talk of
+the place. He cursed them one and all and for generations back; he did
+not spare even his own father.
+
+If a man had used such shocking and insulting language he might have
+been lynched, but coming from a baby, the hunters did not know what to
+do, so finally did the best thing. They laughed aloud--not at
+themselves, that is not considered good form--but they all laughed at
+the German whose wonderful Dogs had been worsted by a half-grown Wolf.
+
+Jimmie now thrust his dirty, tear-stained little fist down into his
+very-much-of-a-boy's pocket, and from among marbles and chewing-gum, as
+well as tobacco, matches, pistol cartridges, and other contraband, he
+fished out a flimsy bit of grocer's twine and fastened it around the
+Wolf's neck. Then, still blubbering a little, he set out for home on
+the Pony, leading the Wolf and hurling a final threat and anathema at
+the German nobleman: "Fur two cents I'd sic him on you, gol darn ye."
+
+
+IV
+
+Early that winter Jimmie was taken down with a fever. The Wolf howled
+miserably in the yard when he missed his little friend, and finally on
+the boy's demand was admitted to the sick-room, and there this great
+wild Dog--for that is all a Wolf is--continued faithfully watching by
+his friend's bedside.
+
+The fever had seemed slight at first, so that every one was shocked
+when there came suddenly a turn for the worse, and three days before
+Christmas Jimmie died. He had no more sincere mourner than his
+"Wolfie." The great gray creature howled in miserable answer to the
+church-bell tolling when he followed the body on Christmas Eve to the
+graveyard at St. Boniface. He soon came back to the premises behind the
+saloon, but when an attempt was made to chain him again, he leaped a
+board fence and was finally lost sight of.
+
+Later that same winter old Renaud, the trapper, with his pretty
+half-breed daughter, Ninette, came to live in a little log-cabin on the
+river bank. He knew nothing about Jimmie Hogan, and he was not a little
+puzzled to find Wolf tracks and signs along the river on both sides
+between St. Boniface and Fort Garry. He listened with interest and
+doubt to tales that the Hudson Bay Company's men told of a great
+Gray-wolf that had come to live in the region about, and even to enter
+the town at night, and that was in particular attached to the woods
+about St. Boniface Church.
+
+On Christmas Eve of that year when the bell tolled again as it had done
+for Jimmie, a lone and melancholy howling from the woods almost
+convinced Renaud that the stories were true. He knew the
+wolf-cries--the howl for help, the love song, the lonely wail, and the
+sharp defiance of the Wolves. This was the lonely wail.
+
+The trapper went to the riverside and gave an answering howl. A shadowy
+form left the far woods and crossed on the ice to where the man sat,
+log-still, on a log. It came up near him, circled past and sniffed,
+then its eye glowed; it growled like a Dog that is a little angry, and
+glided back into the night.
+
+Thus Renaud knew, and before long many townfolk began to learn, that a
+huge Gray-wolf was living in their streets, "a Wolf three times as big
+as the one that used to be chained at Hogan's gin-mill." He was the
+terror of Dogs, killing them on all possible occasions, and some said,
+though it was never proven, that he had devoured more than one
+half-breed who was out on a spree.
+
+And this was the Winnipeg Wolf that I had seen that day in the wintry
+woods. I had longed to go to his help, thinking the odds so hopelessly
+against him, but later knowledge changed the thought. I do not know how
+that fight ended, but I do know that he was seen many times afterward
+and some of the Dogs were not.
+
+Thus his was the strangest life that ever his kind had known. Free of
+all the woods and plains, he elected rather to lead a life of daily
+hazard in the town--each week at least some close escape, and every day
+a day of daring deeds; finding momentary shelter at times under the
+very boardwalk crossings. Hating the men and despising the Dogs, he
+fought his daily way and held the hordes of Curs at bay or slew them
+when he found them few or single; harried the drunkard, evaded men with
+guns, learned traps--learned poison, too--just how, we cannot tell, but
+learn it he did, for he passed it again and again, or served it only
+with a Wolf's contempt.
+
+Not a street in Winnipeg that he did not know; not a policeman in
+Winnipeg that had not seen his swift and shadowy form in the gray dawn
+as he passed where he would; not a Dog in Winnipeg that did not cower
+and bristle when the telltale wind brought proof that old Garou was
+crouching near. His only path was the warpath, and all the world his
+foes. But throughout this lurid, semi-mythic record there was one
+recurring pleasant thought--Garou never was known to harm a child.
+
+
+V
+
+Ninette was a desert-born beauty like her Indian mother, but gray-eyed
+like her Normandy father, a sweet girl of sixteen, the belle of her
+set. She might have married any one of the richest and steadiest young
+men of the country, but of course, in feminine perversity her heart was
+set on that ne'er-do-well, Paul des Roches. A handsome fellow, a good
+dancer and a fair violinist, Fiddler Paul was in demand at all
+festivities, but he was a shiftless drunkard and it was even whispered
+that he had a wife already in Lower Canada. Renaud very properly
+dismissed him when he came to urge his suit, but dismissed him in vain.
+Ninette, obedient in all else, would not give up her lover. The very
+day after her father had ordered him away she promised to meet him in
+the woods just across the river. It was easy to arrange this, for she
+was a good Catholic, and across the ice to the church was shorter than
+going around by the bridge. As she went through the snowy wood to the
+tryst she noticed that a large gray Dog was following. It seemed quite
+friendly, and the child (for she was still that) had no fear, but when
+she came to the place where Paul was waiting, the gray Dog went forward
+rumbling in its chest. Paul gave one look, knew it for a huge Wolf,
+then fled like the coward he was. He afterward said he ran for his gun.
+He must have forgotten where it was, as he climbed the nearest tree to
+find it. Meanwhile Ninette ran home across the ice to tell Paul's
+friends of his danger. Not finding any firearms up the tree, the
+valiant lover made a spear by fastening his knife to a branch and
+succeeded in giving Garou a painful wound on the head. The savage,
+creature growled horribly but thenceforth kept at a safe distance,
+though plainly showing his intention to wait till the man came down.
+But the approach of a band of rescuers changed his mind, and he went
+away.
+
+Fiddler Paul found it easier to explain matters to Ninette than he
+would to any one else. He still stood first in her affections, but so
+hopelessly ill with her father that they decided on an elopement, as
+soon as he should return from Fort Alexander, whither he was to go for
+the Company, as dog-driver. The Factor was very proud of his train
+Dogs--three great Huskies with curly, bushy tails, big and strong as
+Calves, but fierce and lawless as pirates. With these the Fiddler Paul
+was to drive to Fort Alexander from Fort Garry--the bearer of several
+important packets. He was an expert Dog-driver, which usually means
+relentlessly cruel. He set off blithely down the river in the morning,
+after the several necessary drinks of whiskey. He expected to be gone a
+week, and would then come back with twenty dollars in his pocket, and
+having thus provided the sinews of war, would carry out the plan of
+elopement. Away they went down the river on the ice. The big Dogs
+pulled swiftly but sulkily as he cracked the long whip and shouted,
+"Allez, allez, marchez." They passed at speed by Renaud's shanty on the
+bank, and Paul, cracking his whip and running behind the train, waved
+his hand to Ninette as she stood by the door. Speedily the cariole with
+the sulky Dogs and drunken driver disappeared around the bend--and that
+was the last ever seen of Fiddler Paul.
+
+That evening the Huskies came back singly to Fort Garry. They were
+spattered with frozen blood, and were gashed in several places. But
+strange to tell they were quite "unhungry."
+
+Runners went on the back trail and recovered the packages. They were
+lying on the ice unharmed. Fragments of the sled were strewn for a mile
+or more up the river; not far from the packages were shreds of clothing
+that had belonged to the Fiddler.
+
+It was quite clear, the Dogs had murdered and eaten their driver.
+
+The Factor was terribly wrought up over the matter. It might cost him
+his Dogs. He refused to believe the report and set off to sift the
+evidence for himself. Renaud was chosen to go with him, and before they
+were within three miles of the fatal place Renaud pointed to a very
+large track crossing from the east to the west bank of the river, just
+after the Dog sled. He ran it backward for a mile or more on the
+eastern bank, noted how it had walked when the Dogs walked and run when
+they ran, before he turned to the Factor and said: "A beeg Voolf--he
+come after ze cariole all ze time."
+
+Now they followed the track where it had crossed to the west shore. Two
+miles above Kildonan woods the Wolf had stopped his gallop to walk over
+to the sled trail, had followed it a few yards, then had returned to
+the woods.
+
+"Paul he drop somesin' here, ze packet maybe; ze Voolf he come for
+smell. He follow so--now he know zat eez ze drunken Paul vot slash heem
+on ze head."
+
+A mile farther the Wolf track came galloping on the ice behind the
+cariole. The man track disappeared now, for the driver had leaped on
+the sled and lashed the Dogs. Here is where he cut adrift the bundles.
+That is why things were scattered over the ice. See how the Dogs were
+bounding under the lash. Here was the Fiddler's knife in the snow. He
+must have dropped it in trying to use it on the Wolf. And here-what!
+the Wolf track disappears, but the sled track speeds along. The Wolf
+has leaped on the sled. The Dogs, in terror, added to their speed; but
+on the sleigh behind them there is a deed of vengeance done. In a
+moment it is over; both roll off the sled; the Wolf track reappears on
+the east side to seek the woods. The sled swerves to the west bank,
+where, after half a mile, it is caught and wrecked on a root.
+
+The snow also told Renaud how the Dogs, entangled in the harness, had
+fought with each other, had cut themselves loose, and trotting homeward
+by various ways up the river, had gathered at the body of their late
+tyrant and devoured him at a meal.
+
+Bad enough for the Dogs, still they were cleared of the murder. That
+certainly was done by the Wolf, and Renaud, after the shock of horror
+was past, gave a sigh of relief and added, "Eet is le Garou. He hab
+save my leel girl from zat Paul. He always was good to children."
+
+
+VI
+
+This was the cause of the great final hunt that they fixed for
+Christmas Day just two years after the scene at the grave of Little
+Jim. It seemed as though all the Dogs in the country were brought
+together. The three Huskies were there--the Factor considered them
+essential--there were Danes and trailers and a rabble of farm Dogs and
+nondescripts. They spent the morning beating all the woods east of St.
+Boniface and had no success. But a telephone message came that the
+trail they sought had been seen near the Assiniboine woods west of the
+city, and an hour later the hunt was yelling on the hot scent of the
+Winnipeg Wolf.
+
+Away they went, a rabble of Dogs, a motley rout of horsemen, a mob of
+men and boys on foot. Garou had no fear of the Dogs, but men he knew
+had guns and were dangerous. He led off for the dark timber line of the
+Assiniboine, but the horsemen had open country and they headed him
+back. He coursed along the Colony Creek hollow and so eluded the
+bullets already flying. He made for a barb-wire fence, and passing that
+he got rid of the horsemen for a time, but still must keep the hollow
+that baffled the bullets. The Dogs were now closing on him. All he
+might have asked would probably have been to be left alone with
+them--forty or fifty to one as they were--he would have taken the odds.
+The Dogs were all around him now, but none dared to close in, A lanky
+Hound, trusting to his speed, ran alongside at length and got a side
+chop from Garou that laid him low. The horsemen were forced to take a
+distant way around, but now the chase was toward the town, and more men
+and Dogs came running out to join the fray.
+
+The Wolf turned toward the slaughter-house, a familiar resort, and the
+shooting ceased on account of the houses, as well as the Dogs, being so
+near. These were indeed now close enough to encircle him and hinder all
+further flight. He looked for a place to guard his rear for a final
+stand, and seeing a wooden foot-bridge over a gutter he sprang in,
+there faced about and held the pack at bay. The men got bars and
+demolished the bridge. He leaped out, knowing now that he had to die,
+but ready, wishing only to make a worthy fight, and then for the first
+time in broad day view of all his foes he stood--the shadowy
+Dog-killer, the disembodied voice of St. Boniface woods, the wonderful
+Winnipeg Wolf.
+
+
+VII
+
+At last after three long years of fight he stood before them alone,
+confronting twoscore Dogs, and men with guns to back them--but facing
+them just as resolutely as I saw him that day in the wintry woods. The
+same old curl was on his lips--the hard-knit flanks heaved just a
+little, but his green and yellow eye glowed steadily. The Dogs closed
+in, led not by the huge Huskies from the woods--they evidently knew too
+much for that--but by a Bulldog from the town; there was scuffling of
+many feet; a low rumbling for a time replaced the yapping of the pack;
+a flashing of those red and grizzled jaws, a momentary hurl back of the
+onset, and again he stood alone and braced, the grim and grand old
+bandit that he was. Three times they tried and suffered. Their boldest
+were lying about him. The first to go down was the Bulldog. Learning
+wisdom now, the Dogs held back, less sure; but his square-built chest
+showed never a sign of weakness yet, and after waiting impatiently he
+advanced a few steps, and thus, alas! gave to the gunners their
+long-expected chance. Three rifles rang, and in the snow Garou went
+down at last, his life of combat done.
+
+He had made his choice. His days were short and crammed with quick
+events. His tale of many peaceful years was spent in three of daily
+brunt. He picked his trail, a new trail, high and short. He chose to
+drink his cup at a single gulp, and break the glass-but he left a
+deathless name.
+
+Who can look into the mind of the Wolf? Who can show us his wellspring
+of motive? Why should he still cling to a place of endless tribulation?
+It could not be because he knew no other country, for the region is
+limitless, food is everywhere, and he was known at least as far as
+Selkirk. Nor could his motive be revenge. No animal will give up its
+whole life to seeking revenge; that evil kind of mind is found in man
+alone. The brute creation seeks for peace.
+
+There is then but one remaining bond to chain him, and that the
+strongest claim that anything can own--the mightiest force on earth.
+
+The Wolf is gone. The last relic of him was lost in the burning Grammar
+School, but to this day the sexton of St. Boniface Church avers that
+the tolling bell on Christmas Eve never fails to provoke that weird and
+melancholy Wolf-cry from the wooded graveyard a hundred steps away,
+where they laid his Little Jim, the only being on earth that ever met
+him with the touch of love.
+
+
+
+
+THE LEGEND OF THE WHITE REINDEER
+
+
+  Skoal! Skoal! For Norway Skoal!
+  Sing ye the song of the Vand-dam troll.
+  When I am hiding
+  Norway's luck
+  On a White Storbuk
+  Comes riding, riding.
+
+
+Bleak, black, deep, and cold is Utrovand, a long pocket of glacial
+water, a crack in the globe, a wrinkle in the high Norwegian mountains,
+blocked with another mountain, and flooded with a frigid flood, three
+thousand feet above its Mother Sea, and yet no closer to its Father Sun.
+
+Around its cheerless shore is a belt of stunted trees, that sends a
+long tail up the high valley, till it dwindles away to sticks and moss,
+as it also does some half-way up the granite hills that rise a thousand
+feet, encompassing the lake. This is the limit of trees, the end of the
+growth of wood. The birch and willow are the last to drop out of the
+long fight with frost. Their miniature thickets are noisy with the
+cries of Fieldfare, Pipit, and Ptarmigan, but these are left behind on
+nearing the upper plateau, where shade of rock and sough of wind are
+all that take their place. The chilly Hoifjeld rolls away, a rugged,
+rocky plain, with great patches of snow in all the deeper hollows, and
+the distance blocked by snowy peaks that rise and roll and whiter
+gleam, till, dim and dazzling in the north, uplifts the Jotunheim, the
+home of spirits, of glaciers, and of the lasting snow.
+
+The treeless stretch is one vast attest to the force of heat. Each
+failure of the sun by one degree is marked by a lower realm of life.
+The northern slope of each hollow is less boreal than its southern
+side. The pine and spruce have given out long ago; the mountain-ash
+went next; the birch and willow climbed up half the slope. Here,
+nothing grows but creeping plants and moss. The plain itself is pale
+grayish green, one vast expanse of reindeer-moss, but warmed at spots
+into orange by great beds of polytrichum, and, in sunnier nooks,
+deepened to a herbal green. The rocks that are scattered everywhere are
+of a delicate lilac, but each is variegated with spreading frill-edged
+plasters of gray-green lichen or orange powder-streaks and beauty-spots
+of black. These rocks have great power to hold the heat, so that each
+of them is surrounded by a little belt of heat-loving plants that could
+not otherwise live so high. Dwarfed representatives of the birch and
+willow both are here, hugging the genial rock, as an old French
+habitant hugs his stove in winter-time, spreading their branches over
+it, instead of in the frigid air. A foot away is seen a chillier belt
+of heath, and farther off, colder, where none else can grow, is the
+omnipresent gray-green reindeer-moss that gives its color to the
+upland. The hollows are still filled with snow, though now it is June.
+But each of these white expanses is shrinking, spending itself in
+ice-cold streams that somehow reach the lake. These snoe-flaks show no
+sign of life, not even the 'red-snow' tinge, and around each is a belt
+of barren earth, to testify that life and warmth can never be divorced.
+
+Birdless and lifeless, the gray-green snow-pied waste extends over all
+the stretch that is here between the timber-line and the snow-line,
+above which winter never quits its hold. Farther north both come lower,
+till the timber-line is at the level of the sea; and all the land is in
+that treeless belt called Tundra in the Old World, and Barrens in the
+New, and that everywhere is the Home of the Reindeer--the Realm of the
+Reindeer-moss.
+
+
+I
+
+In and out it flew, in and out, over the water and under, as the
+Varsimle', the leader doe of the Reindeer herd, walked past on the
+vernal banks, and it sang:--
+
+"Skoal! Skoal! Gamle Norge Skoal!" and more about "a White Reindeer and
+Norway's good luck," as though the singer were gifted with special
+insight.
+
+When old Sveggum built the Vand-dam on the Lower Hoifjeld, just above
+the Utrovand, and set his ribesten a-going, he supposed that he was the
+owner of it all. But some one was there before him. And in and out of
+the spouting stream this some one dashed, and sang songs that he made
+up to fit the place and the time. He skipped from skjaeke to skjaeke of
+the wheel, and did many things which Sveggum could set down only to
+luck--whatever that is; and some said that Sveggum's luck was a
+Wheel-troll, a Water-fairy, with a brown coat and a white beard, one
+that lived on land or in water, as he pleased.
+
+But most of Sveggum's neighbors saw only a Fossekal, the little
+Waterfall Bird that came each year and danced in the stream, or dived
+where the pool is deep. And maybe both were right, for some of the very
+oldest peasants will tell you that a Fairy-troll may take the form of a
+man or the form of a bird. Only this bird lived a life no bird can
+live, and sang songs that men never had sung in Norway. Wonderful
+vision had he, and sights he saw that man never saw. For the Fieldfare
+would build before him, and the Lemming fed its brood under his very
+eyes. Eyes were they to see; for the dark speck on Suletind that man
+could barely glimpse was a Reindeer, with half-shed coat, to him and
+the green slime on the Vandren was beautiful green pasture with a
+banquet spread.
+
+Oh, Man is so blind, and makes himself so hated! But Fossekal harmed
+none, so none were afraid of him. Only he sang, and his songs were
+sometimes mixed with fun and prophecy, or perhaps a little scorn.
+
+From the top of the tassel-birch he could mark the course of the
+Vand-dam stream past the Nystuen hamlet to lose itself in the gloomy
+waters of Utrovand or by a higher flight he could see across the barren
+upland that rolled to Jotunheim in the north.
+
+The great awakening was on now. The springtime had already reached the
+woods; the valleys were a-throb with life; new birds coming from the
+south, winter sleepers reappearing, and the Reindeer that had wintered
+in the lower woods should soon again be seen on the uplands.
+
+Not without a fight do the Frost Giants give up the place so long their
+own; a great battle was in progress; but the Sun was slowly, surely
+winning, and driving them back to their Jotunheim. At every hollow and
+shady place they made another stand, or sneaked back by night, only to
+suffer another defeat. Hard hitters these, as they are stubborn
+fighters; many a granite rock was split and shattered by their blows in
+reckless fight, so that its inner fleshy tints were shown and warmly
+gleamed among the gray-green rocks that dotted the plain, like the
+countless flocks of Thor. More or less of these may be found at every
+place of battle-brunt, and straggled along the slope of Suletind was a
+host that reached for half a mile. But stay! these moved. Not rocks
+were they, but living creatures.
+
+They drifted along erratically, yet one way, all up the wind. They
+swept out of sight in a hollow, to reappear on a ridge much nearer, and
+serried there against the sky, we marked their branching horns, and
+knew them for the Reindeer in their home.
+
+The band came drifting our way, feeding like Sheep, grunting like only
+themselves. Each one found a grazing-spot, stood there till it was
+cleared off, then trotted on crackling hoofs to the front in search of
+another. So the band was ever changing in rank and form. But one there
+was that was always at or near the van--a large and well-favored
+Simle', or Hind. However much the band might change and spread, she was
+in the forefront, and the observant would soon have seen signs that she
+had an influence over the general movement--that she, indeed, was the
+leader. Even the big Bucks, in their huge velvet-clad antlers, admitted
+this untitular control; and if one, in a spirit of independence,
+evinced a disposition to lead elsewhere, he soon found himself
+uncomfortably alone.
+
+The Varsimle', or leading Hind, had kept the band hovering, for the
+last week or two, along the timber-line, going higher each day to the
+baring uplands, where the snow was clearing and the deer-flies were
+blown away. As the pasture zone had climbed she had followed in her
+daily foraging, returning to the sheltered woods at sundown, for the
+wild things fear the cold night wind even as man does. But now the
+deer-flies were rife in the woods, and the rocky hillside nooks warm
+enough for the nightly bivouac, so the woodland was deserted.
+
+Probably the leader of a band of animals does not consciously pride
+itself on leadership, yet has an uncomfortable sensation when not
+followed. But there are times with all when solitude is sought. The
+Varsimle' had been fat and well through the winter, yet now was
+listless, and lingered with drooping head as the grazing herd moved
+past her.
+
+Sometimes she stood gazing blankly while the unchewed bunch of moss
+hung from her mouth, then roused to go on to the front as before; but
+the spells of vacant stare and the hankering to be alone grew stronger.
+She turned downward to seek the birch woods, but the whole band turned
+with her. She stood stock-still, with head down. They grazed and
+grunted past, leaving her like a statue against the hillside. When all
+had gone on, she slunk quietly away; walked a few steps, looked about,
+made a pretense of grazing, snuffed the ground, looked after the herd,
+and scanned the hills; then downward fared toward the sheltering woods.
+
+Once as she peered over a bank she sighted another Simle', a doe
+Reindeer, uneasily wandering by itself. But the Varsimle' wished not
+for company. She did not know why, but she felt that she must hide away
+somewhere.
+
+She stood still until the other had passed on, then turned aside, and
+went with faster steps and less wavering, till she came in view of
+Utrovand, away down by the little stream that turns old Sveggum's
+ribesten. Up above the dam she waded across the limpid stream, for
+deep-laid and sure is the instinct of a wild animal to put running
+water between itself and those it shuns. Then, on the farther bank, now
+bare and slightly green, she turned, and passing in and out among the
+twisted trunks, she left the noisy Vand-dam. On the higher ground
+beyond she paused, looked this way and that, went on a little, but
+returned; and here, completely shut in by softly painted rocks, and
+birches wearing little springtime hangers, she seemed inclined to rest;
+yet not to rest, for she stood uneasily this way and that, driving away
+the flies that settled on her legs, heeding not at all the growing
+grass, and thinking she was hid from all the world.
+
+But nothing escapes the Fossekal. He had seen her leave the herd, and
+now he sat on a gorgeous rock that overhung, and sang as though he had
+waited for this and knew that the fate of the nation might turn on what
+passed in this far glen. He sang:
+
+  Skoal! Skoal! For Norway Skoal!
+  Sing ye the song of the Vand-dam troll.
+  When I am hiding
+  Norway's luck
+  On a White Storbuk
+  Comes riding, riding.
+
+
+There are no Storks in Norway, and yet an hour later there was a
+wonderful little Reindeer lying beside the Varsimle'. She was brushing
+his coat, licking and mothering him, proud and happy as though this was
+the first little Renskalv ever born. There might be hundreds born in
+the herd that month, but probably no more like this one, for he was
+snowy white, and the song of the singer on the painted rock was about
+
+  Good luck, good luck,
+  And a White Storbuk,
+
+as though he foresaw clearly the part that the White Calf was to play
+when he grew to be a Storbuk.
+
+But another wonder now came to pass. Before an hour, there was a second
+little Calf--a brown one this time. Strange things happen, and hard
+things are done when they needs must. Two hours later, when the
+Varsimle' led the White Calf away from the place, there was no Brown
+Calf, only some flattened rags with calf-hair on them.
+
+The mother was wise: better one strongling than two weaklings. Within a
+few days the Simle' once more led the band, and running by her side was
+the White Calf. The Varsimle' considered him in all things, so that he
+really set the pace for the band, which suited very well all the
+mothers that now had Calves with them. Big, strong, and wise was the
+Varsimle', in the pride of her strength, and this White Calf was the
+flower of her prime. He often ran ahead of his mother as she led the
+herd, and Rol, coming on them one day, laughed aloud at the sight as
+they passed, old and young, fat Simle' and antlered Storbuk, a great
+brown herd, all led, as it seemed, by a little White Calf.
+
+So they drifted away to the high mountains, to be gone all summer.
+"Gone to be taught by the spirits who dwell where the Black  Loon
+laughs on the ice," said Lief of the Lower Dale; but Sveggum, who had
+always been among the Reindeer, said: "Their mothers are the teachers,
+even as ours are."
+
+When the autumn came, old Sveggum saw a moving sno-flack far off on the
+brown moor-land; but the Troll saw a white yearling, a Nekbuk; and when
+they ranged alongside of Utrovand to drink, the still sheet seemed
+fully to reflect the White One, though it barely sketched in the
+others, with the dark hills behind.
+
+Many a little Calf had come that spring, and had drifted away on the
+moss-barrens, to come back no more; for some were weaklings and some
+were fools; some fell by the way, for that is law; and some would not
+learn the rules, and so died. But the White Calf was strongest of them
+all, and he was wise, so he learned of his mother, who was wisest of
+them all. He learned that the grass on the sun side of a rock is sweet,
+and though it looks the same in the dark hollows, it is there
+worthless. He learned that when his mother's hoofs crackled he must be
+up and moving, and when all the herd's hoofs crackled there was danger,
+and he must keep by his mother's side. For this crackling is like the
+whistling of a Whistler Duck's wings: it is to keep the kinds together.
+He learned that where the little Bomuldblomster hangs its Cotton tufts
+is dangerous bog; that the harsh cackle of the Ptarmigan means that
+close at hand are Eagles, as dangerous for Fawn as for Bird. He learned
+that the little troll-berries are deadly, that when the verra-flies
+come stinging he must take refuge on a snow-patch, and that of all
+animal smells only that of his mother was to be fully trusted. He
+learned that he was growing. His flat calf sides and big joints were
+changing to the full barrel and clean limbs of the Yearling, and the
+little bumps which began to show on his head when he was only a
+fortnight old were now sharp, hard spikes that could win in fight.
+
+More than once they had smelt that dreaded destroyer of the north that
+men call the Gjerv or Wolverene; and one day, as this danger-scent came
+suddenly and in great strength, a huge blot of dark brown sprang
+rumbling from a rocky ledge, and straight for the foremost--the White
+Calf. His eye caught the flash of a whirling, shaggy mass, with
+gleaming teeth and eyes, hot-breathed and ferocious. Blank horror set
+his hair on end; his nostrils flared in fear: but before he fled there
+rose within another feeling--one of anger at the breaker of his peace,
+a sense that swept all fear away, braced his legs, and set his horns at
+charge. The brown brute landed with a deep-chested growl, to be
+received on the young one's spikes. They pierced him deeply, but the
+shock was overmuch; it bore the White One down, and he might yet have
+been killed but that his mother, alert and ever near, now charged the
+attacking monster, and heavier, better armed, she hurled and speared
+him to the ground. And the White Calf, with a very demon glare in his
+once mild eyes, charged too; and even after the Wolverene was a mere
+hairy mass, and his mother had retired to feed, he came, snorting out
+his rage, to drive his spikes into the hateful thing, till his snowy
+head was stained with his adversary's blood.
+
+Thus he showed that below the ox-like calm exterior was the fighting
+beast; that he was like the men of the north, rugged, square-built,
+calm, slow to wrath, but when aroused "seeing red."
+
+When they ranked together by the lake that fall, the Fossekal sang his
+old song:
+
+  When I am hiding
+  Norway's luck
+  On a White Storbuk
+  Comes riding, riding,
+
+as though this was something he had awaited, then disappeared no one
+knew where. Old Sveggum had seen it flying through the stream, as birds
+fly through the air, walking in the bottom of a deep pond as a
+Ptarmigan walks on the rocks, living as no bird can live; and now the
+old man said it had simply gone southward for the winter. But old
+Sveggum could neither read nor write: how should he know?
+
+
+II
+
+Each springtime when the Reindeer passed over Sveggum's mill-run, as
+they moved from the lowland woods to the bleaker shore of Utrovand, the
+Fossekal was there to sing about the White Storbuk, which each year
+became more truly the leader.
+
+That first spring he stood little higher than a Hare. When he came to
+drink in the autumn, his back was above the rock where Sveggum's stream
+enters Utrovand. Next year he barely passed under the stunted birch,
+and the third year the Fossekal on the painted rock was looking up, not
+down, at him as he passed. This was the autumn when Rol and Sveggum
+sought the Hoifjeld to round up their half-wild herd and select some of
+the strongest for the sled. There was but one opinion about the
+Storbuk. Higher than the others, heavier, white as snow, with a mane
+that swept the shallow drifts, breasted like a Horse and with horns
+like a storm-grown oak, he was king of the herd, and might easily be
+king of the road.
+
+There are two kinds of deer-breakers, as there are two kinds of
+horse-breakers: one that tames and teaches the animal, and gets a
+spirited, friendly helper; one that aims to break its spirit, and gets
+only a sullen slave, ever ready to rebel and wreak its hate. Many a
+Lapp and many a Norsk has paid with his life for brutality to his
+Reindeer, and Rol's days were shortened by his own pulk-Ren. But
+Sveggum was of gentler sort. To him fell the training of the White
+Storbuk. It was slow, for the Buck resented all liberties from man, as
+he did from his brothers; but kindness, not fear, was the power that
+tamed him, and when he had learned to obey and glory in the sled race,
+it was a noble sight to see the great white mild-eyed beast striding
+down the long snow-stretch of Utrovand, the steam jetting from his
+nostrils, the snow swirling up before like the curling waves on a
+steamer's bow, sled, driver, and Deer all dim in flying white.
+
+Then came the Yule-tide Fair, with the races on the ice, and Utrovand
+for once was gay. The sullen hills about reechoed with merry shouting.
+The Reindeer races were first, with many a mad mischance for laughter.
+Rol himself was there with his swiftest sled Deer, a tall, dark,
+five-year-old, in his primest prime. But over-eager, over-brutal, he
+harried the sullen, splendid slave till in mid-race--just when in a way
+to win--it turned at a cruel blow, and Rol took refuge under the
+upturned sled until it had vented its rage against the wood; and so he
+lost the race, and the winner was the young White Storbuk. Then he won
+the five-mile race around the lake; and for each triumph Sveggum hung a
+little silver bell on his harness, so that now he ran and won to merry
+music.
+
+Then came the Horse races,--running races these; the Reindeer only
+trots,--and when Balder, the victor Horse, received his ribbon and his
+owner the purse, came Sveggum with all his winnings in his hand, and
+said: "Ho, Lars, thine is a fine Horse, but mine is a better Storbuk;
+let us put our winnings together and race, each his beast, for all."
+
+A Ren against a Race-horse--such a race was never seen till now. Off at
+the pistol-crack they flew. "Ho, Balder! (cluck!) Ho, hi, Balder!" Away
+shot the beautiful Racer, and the Storbuk, striding at a slower trot,
+was left behind.
+
+"Ho, Balder!" "Hi, Storbuk!" How the people cheered as the Horse went
+bounding and gaining! But he had left the line at his top speed; the
+Storbuk's rose as he flew--faster--faster. The Pony ceased to gain. A
+mile whirled by; the gap began to close. The Pony had over-spurted at
+the start, but the Storbuk was warming to his work--striding evenly,
+swiftly, faster yet, as Sveggum cried in encouragement: "Ho, Storbuk!
+good Storbuk!" or talked to him only with a gentle rein. At the
+turning-point the pair were neck and neck; then the Pony--though well
+driven and well shod-slipped on the ice, and thenceforth held back as
+though in fear, so the Storbuk steamed away. The Pony and his driver
+were far behind when a roar from every human throat in Filefjeld told
+that the Storbuk had passed the wire and won the race. And yet all this
+was before the White Ren had reached the years of his full strength and
+speed.
+
+Once that day Rol essayed to drive the Storbuk. They set off at a good
+pace, the White Buk ready, responsive to the single rein, and his mild
+eyes veiled by his drooping lashes. But, without any reason other than
+the habit of brutality, Rol struck him. In a moment there was a change.
+The Racer's speed was checked, all four legs braced forward till he
+stood; the drooping lids were raised, the eyes rolled--there was a
+green light in them now. Three puffs of steam were jetted from each
+nostril. Rol shouted, then, scenting danger, quickly upset the sled and
+hid beneath. The Storbuk turned to charge the sled, sniffing and
+tossing the snow with his foot; but little Knute, Sveggum's son, ran
+forward and put his arms around the Storbuk's neck; then the fierce
+look left the Reindeer's eye, and he suffered the child to lead him
+quietly back to the starting-point. Beware, O driver! the Reindeer,
+too, "sees red."
+
+This was the coming of the White Storbuk for the folk of Filefjeld.
+
+In the two years that followed he became famous throughout that country
+as Sveggum's Storbuk, and many a strange exploit was told of him. In
+twenty minutes he could carry old Sveggum round the six-mile rim of
+Utrovand. When the snow-slide buried all the village of Holaker, it was
+the Storbuk that brought the word for help to Opdalstole and returned
+again over the forty miles of deep snow in seven hours, to carry
+brandy, food, and promise of speedy aid.
+
+When over-venturesome young Knute Sveggumsen broke through the new thin
+ice of Utrovand, his cry for help brought the Storbuk to the rescue;
+for he was the gentlest of his kind and always ready to come at call.
+
+He brought the drowning boy in triumph to the shore, and as they
+crossed the Vand-dam stream, there was the Troll-bird to sing:
+
+  Good luck, good luck,
+  With the White Storbuk.
+
+After which he disappeared for months--doubtless dived into some
+subaqueous cave to feast and revel all winter; although Sveggum did not
+believe it was so.
+
+
+III
+
+How often is the fate of kingdoms given into child hands, or even
+committed to the care of Bird or Beast! A She-wolf nursed the Roman
+Empire. A Wren pecking crumbs on a drum-head aroused the Orange army,
+it is said, and ended the Stuart reign in Britain. Little wonder, then,
+that to a noble Reindeer Buk should be committed the fate of Norway:
+that the Troll on the wheel should have reason in his rhyme.
+
+These were troublous times in Scandinavia. Evil men, traitors at heart,
+were sowing dissension between the brothers Norway and Sweden. "Down
+with the Union!" was becoming the popular cry.
+
+Oh, unwise peoples! If only you could have been by Sveggum's wheel to
+hear the Troll when he sang:
+
+  The Raven and the Lion
+  They held the Bear at bay;
+  But he picked the bones of both
+  When they quarrelled by the way.
+
+Threats of civil war, of a fight for independence, were heard
+throughout Norway. Meetings were held more or less secretly, and at
+each of them was some one with well-filled pockets and glib tongue, to
+enlarge on the country's wrongs, and promise assistance from an outside
+irresistible power as soon as they showed that they meant to strike for
+freedom. No one openly named the power. That was not necessary; it was
+everywhere felt and understood. Men who were real patriots began to
+believe in it. Their country was wronged. Here was one to set her
+right. Men whose honor was beyond question became secret agents of this
+power. The state was honeycombed and mined; society was a tangle of
+plots. The king was helpless, though his only wish was for the people's
+welfare. Honest and straightforward, what could he do against this
+far-reaching machination? The very advisers by his side were corrupted
+through mistaken patriotism. The idea that they were playing into the
+hands of the foreigner certainly never entered into the minds of these
+dupes--at least, not those of the rank and file. One or two, tried,
+selected, and bought by the arch-enemy, knew the real object in view,
+and the chief of these was Borgrevinck, a former lansman of Nordlands.
+A man of unusual gifts, a member of the Storthing, a born leader, he
+might have been prime minister long ago, but for the distrust inspired
+by several unprincipled dealings. Soured by what he considered want of
+appreciation, balked in his ambition, he was a ready tool when the
+foreign agent sounded him. At first his patriotism had to be sopped,
+but that necessity disappeared as the game went on, and perhaps he
+alone, of the whole far-reaching conspiracy, was prepared to strike at
+the Union for the benefit of the foreigner.
+
+Plans were being perfected,--army officers being secretly misled and
+won over by the specious talk of "their country's wrongs," and each
+move made Borgrevinck more surely the head of it all,--when a quarrel
+between himself and the "deliverer" occurred over the question of
+recompense. Wealth untold they were willing to furnish; but regal
+power, never. The quarrel became more acute. Borgrevinck continued to
+attend all meetings, but was ever more careful to centre all power in
+himself, and even prepared to turn round to the king's party if
+necessary to further his ambition. The betrayal of his followers would
+purchase his own safety. But proofs he must have, and he set about
+getting signatures to a declaration of rights which was simply a veiled
+confession of treason. Many of the leaders he had deluded into signing
+this before the meeting at Laersdalsoren. Here they met in the early
+winter, some twenty of the patriots, some of them men of position, all
+of them men of brains and power. Here, in the close and stifling
+parlor, they planned, discussed, and questioned. Great hopes were
+expressed, great deeds were forecast, in that stove-hot room.
+
+Outside, against the fence, in the winter night, was a Great White
+Reindeer, harnessed to a sled, but lying down with his head doubled
+back on his side as he slept, calm, unthoughtful, ox-like. Which seemed
+likelier to decide the nation's fate, the earnest thinkers indoors, or
+the ox-like sleeper without? Which seemed more vital to Israel, the
+bearded council in King Saul's tent, or the light-hearted shepherd-boy
+hurling stones across the brook at Bethlehem? At Laersdalsoren it was
+as before: deluded by Borgrevinck's eloquent plausibility, all put
+their heads in the noose, their lives and country in his hands, seeing
+in this treacherous monster a very angel of self-sacrificing
+patriotism. All? No, not all. Old Sveggum was there. He could neither
+read nor write. That was his excuse for not signing. He could not read
+a letter in a book, but he could read something of the hearts of men.
+As the meeting broke up he whispered to Axel Tanberg: "Is his own name
+on that paper?" And Axel, starting at the thought, said: "No." Then
+said Sveggum: "I don't trust that man. They ought to know of this at
+Nystuen." For there was to be the really important meeting. But how to
+let them know was the riddle. Borgrevinck was going there at once with
+his fast Horses.
+
+Sveggum's eye twinkled as he nodded toward the Storbuk, standing tied
+to the fence. Borgrevinck leaped into his sleigh and went off at speed,
+for he was a man of energy. Sveggum took the bells from the harness,
+untied the Reindeer, stepped into the pulk. He swung the single rein,
+clucked to the Storbuk, and also turned his head toward Nystuen. The
+fast Horses had a long start, but before they had climbed the eastward
+hill Sveggum needs must slack, so as not to overtake them. He held back
+till they came to the turn above the woods at Maristuen; then he quit
+the road, and up the river flat he sped the Buk, a farther way, but the
+only way to bring them there ahead.
+
+Squeak, crack-squeak, crack-squeak, crack--at regular intervals from
+the great spreading snow-shoes of the Storbuk, and the steady sough of
+his breath was like the Nordland as she passes up the Hardanger Fjord.
+High up, on the smooth road to the left, they could hear the jingle of
+the horse-bells and the shouting of Borgrevinck's driver, who, under
+orders, was speeding hard for Nystuen.
+
+The highway was a short road and smooth, and the river valley was long
+and rough; but when, in four hours, Borgrevinck got to Nystuen, there
+in the throng was a face that he had just left at Laersdalsoren. He
+appeared not to notice, though nothing ever escaped him.
+
+At Nystuen none of the men would sign. Some one had warned them. This
+was serious; might be fatal at such a critical point. As he thought it
+over, his suspicions turned more and more to Sveggum, the old fool that
+could not write his name at Laersdalsoren. But how did he get there
+before himself with his speedy Horses?
+
+There was a dance at Nystuen that night; the dance was necessary to
+mask the meeting; and during that Borgrevinck learned of the swift
+White Ren.
+
+The Nystuen trip had failed, thanks to the speed of the White Buk.
+Borgrevinck must get to Bergen before word of this, or all would be
+lost. There was only one way, to be sure of getting there before any
+one else. Possibly word had already gone from Laersdalsoren. But even
+at that, Borgrevinck could get there and save himself, at the price of
+all Norway, if need be, provided he went with the White Storbuk. He
+would not be denied. He was not the man to give up a point, though it
+took all the influence he could bring to bear, this time, to get old
+Sveggum's leave.
+
+The Storbuk was quietly sleeping in the corral when Sveggum came to
+bring him. He rose leisurely, hind legs first, stretched one, then the
+other, curling his tail tight on his back as he did so, shook the hay
+from the great antlers as though they were a bunch of twigs, and slowly
+followed Sveggum at the end of the tight halter. He was so sleepy and
+slow that Borgrevinck impatiently gave him a kick, and got for response
+a short snort from the Buk, and from Sveggum an earnest warning, both
+of which were somewhat scornfully received. The tinkling bells on the
+harness had been replaced, but Borgrevinck wanted them removed. He
+wished to go in silence. Sveggum would not be left behind when his
+favorite Ren went forth, so he was given a seat in the horse-sleigh
+which was to follow, and the driver thereof received from his master a
+secret hint to delay.
+
+Then, with papers on his person to death-doom a multitude of misguided
+men, with fiendish intentions in his heart as well as the power to
+carry them out, and with the fate of Norway in his hands, Borgrevinck
+was made secure in the sled, behind the White Storbuk, and sped at dawn
+on his errand of desolation.
+
+At the word from Sveggum the White Ren set off with a couple of bounds
+that threw Borgrevinck back in the pulk. This angered him, but he
+swallowed his wrath on seeing that it left the horse-sleigh behind. He
+shook the line, shouted, and the Buk settled down to a long, swinging
+trot. His broad hoofs clicked double at every stride. His nostrils, out
+level, puffed steady blasts of steam in the frosty morning as he
+settled to his pace. The pulk's prow cut two long shears of snow, that
+swirled up over man and sled till all were white. And the great ox-eyes
+of the King Ren blazed joyously in the delight of motion, and of
+conquest too, as the sound of the horse-bells faded far behind.
+
+Even masterful Borgrevinck could not but mark with pleasure the noble
+creature that had balked him last night and now was lending its speed
+to his purpose; for it was his intention to arrive hours before the
+horse-sleigh, if possible.
+
+Up the rising road they sped as though downhill, and the driver's
+spirits rose with the exhilarating speed. The snow groaned ceaselessly
+under the prow of the pulk, and the frosty creaking under the hoofs of
+the flying Ren was like the gritting of mighty teeth. Then came the
+level stretch from Nystuen's hill to Dalecarl's, and as they whirled by
+in the early day, little Carl chanced to peep from a window, and got
+sight of the Great White Ren in a white pulk with a white driver, just
+as it is in the stories of the Giants, and clapped his hands, and
+cried, "Good, good!"
+
+But his grandfather, when he caught a glimpse of the white wonder that
+went without even sound of bells, felt a cold chill in his scalp, and
+went back to light a candle that he kept at the window till the sun was
+high, for surely this was the Storbuk of Jotunheim.
+
+But the Ren whirled on, and the driver shook the reins and thought only
+of Bergen. He struck the White Steed with the loose end of the rope.
+The Buk gave three great snorts and three great bounds, then faster
+went, and as they passed by Dyrskaur, where the Giant sits on the edge,
+his head was muffled in scud, which means that a storm is coming. The
+Storbuk knew it. He sniffed, and eyed the sky with anxious look, and
+even slacked a little; but Borgrevinck yelled at the speeding beast,
+though going yet as none but he could go, and struck him once, twice,
+and thrice, and harder yet. So the pulk was whirled along like a skiff
+in a steamer's wake; but there was blood in the Storbuk's eye now; and
+Borgrevinck was hard put to balance the sled. The miles flashed by like
+roods till Sveggum's bridge appeared. The storm-wind now was blowing,
+but there was the Troll. Whence came he now, none knew, but there he
+was, hopping on the keystone and singing of
+
+  Norway's fate and Norway's luck,
+  Of the hiding Troll and the riding Buk.
+
+Down the winding highway they came, curving inward as they swung around
+the corner. At the voice on the bridge the Deer threw back his ears and
+slackened his pace. Borgrevinck, not knowing whence it came, struck
+savagely at the Ren. The red light gleamed in those ox-like eyes. He
+snorted in anger and shook the great horns, but he did not stop to
+avenge the blow. For him was a vaster vengeance still. He onward sped
+as before, but from that time Borgrevinck had lost all control. The one
+voice that the Ren would hear had been left behind. They whirled aside,
+off the road, before the bridge was reached. The pulk turned over, but
+righted itself, and Borgrevinck would have been thrown out and killed
+but for the straps. It was not to be so; it seemed rather as though the
+every curse of Norway had been gathered into the sled for a purpose.
+Bruised and battered, he reappeared. The Troll from the bridge leaped
+lightly to the Storbuk's head, and held on to the horns as he danced
+and sang his ancient song, and a new song, too:
+
+  Ha! at last! Oh, lucky day,
+  Norway's curse to wipe away!
+
+Borgrevinck was terrified and furious. He struck harder at the Storbuk
+as he bounded over the rougher snow, and vainly tried to control him.
+He lost his head in fear. He got out his knife, at last, to strike at
+the wild Buk's hamstrings, but a blow from the hoof sent it flying from
+his hand. Their speed on the road was slow to that they now made: no
+longer striding at the trot, but bounding madly, great five-stride
+bounds, the wretched Borgrevinck strapped in the sled, alone and
+helpless through his own contriving, screaming, cursing, and praying.
+The Storbuk with bloodshot eyes, madly steaming, careered up the rugged
+ascent, up to the broken, stormy Hoifjeld; mounting the hills as a
+Petrel mounts the rollers, skimming the flats as a Fulmar skims the
+shore, he followed the trail where his mother had first led his
+tottering steps, up from the Vand-dam nook. He followed the old
+familiar route that he had followed for five years, where the
+white-winged Rype flies aside, where the black rock mountains, shining
+white, come near and block the sky, "where the Reindeer find their
+mysterie."
+
+On like the little snow-wreath that the storm-wind sends dancing before
+the storm, on like a whirlwind over the shoulder of Suletind, over the
+knees of Torholmenbrae--the Giants that sit at the gateway. Faster than
+man or beast could follow, up--up--up--and on; and no one saw them go,
+but a Raven that swooped behind, and flew as Raven never flew, and the
+Troll, the same old Troll that sang by the Vand-dam, and now danced and
+sang between the antlers:
+
+  Good luck, good luck for Norway
+  With the White Storbuk comes riding.
+
+Over Tvindehoug they faded like flying scud on the moorlands, on to the
+gloomy distance, away toward Jotunheim, the home of the Evil Spirits,
+the Land of the Lasting Snow. Their every sign and trail was wiped away
+by the drifting storm, and the end of them no man knows.
+
+The Norse folk awoke as from a horrid nightmare. Their national ruin
+was averted; there were no deaths, for there were no proofs; and the
+talebearer's strife was ended.
+
+The one earthly sign remaining from that drive is the string of silver
+bells that Sveggum had taken from the Storbuk's neck--the victory
+bells, each the record of a triumph won; and when the old man came to
+understand, he sighed, and hung to the string a final bell, the largest
+of them all.
+
+Nothing more was ever seen or heard of the creature who so nearly sold
+his country, or of the White Storbuk who balked him. Yet those who live
+near Jotunheim say that on stormy nights, when the snow is flying and
+the wind is raving in the woods, there sometimes passes, at frightful
+speed, an enormous White Reindeer with fiery eyes, drawing a snow-white
+pulk, in which is a screaming wretch in white, and on the head of the
+Deer, balancing by the horns, is a brown-clad, white-bearded Troll,
+bowing and grinning pleasantly at him, and singing
+
+  Of Norway's luck
+  And a White Storbuk--
+
+the same, they say, as the one that with prophetic vision sang by
+Sveggum's Vand-dam on a bygone day when the birches wore their
+springtime hangers, and a great mild-eyed Varsimle' came alone, to go
+away with a little white Renskalv walking slowly, demurely, by her side.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Animal Heroes, by Ernest Thompson Seton
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANIMAL HEROES ***
+
+***** This file should be named 2284.txt or 2284.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        https://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/8/2284/
+
+Produced by Bill Stoddard.  HTML version by Al Haines.
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+https://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/2284.zip b/2284.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..99745d5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/2284.zip
diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6312041
--- /dev/null
+++ b/LICENSE.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
diff --git a/README.md b/README.md
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..12fbf9a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/README.md
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #2284 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/2284)
diff --git a/old/anhro10.txt b/old/anhro10.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..215d04c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/anhro10.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,6320 @@
+Project Gutenberg Etext Animal Heroes, by Ernest Thompson Seton
+#2 in our series by Ernest Thompson Seton
+
+
+Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check
+the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!!
+
+Please take a look at the important information in this header.
+We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an
+electronic path open for the next readers.  Do not remove this.
+
+
+**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
+
+**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
+
+*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations*
+
+Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and
+further information is included below.  We need your donations.
+
+
+Animal Heroes
+
+by Ernest Thompson Seton
+
+August, 2000  [Etext #2284]
+
+
+Project Gutenberg Etext Animal Heroes, by Ernest Thompson Seton
+*****This file should be named anhro10.txt or anhro10.zip******
+
+Corrected EDITIONS of our etexts get a new NUMBER, anhro11.txt
+VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, anhro10a.txt
+
+This Etext prepared by Bill Stoddard - e-mail: hscrr@vgernet.net
+
+Project Gutenberg Etexts are usually created from multiple editions,
+all of which are in the Public Domain in the United States, unless a
+copyright notice is included.  Therefore, we usually do NOT keep any
+of these books in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+We are now trying to release all our books one month in advance
+of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing.
+
+Please note:  neither this list nor its contents are final till
+midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement.
+The official release date of all Project Gutenberg Etexts is at
+Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month.  A
+preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment
+and editing by those who wish to do so.  To be sure you have an
+up to date first edition [xxxxx10x.xxx] please check file sizes
+in the first week of the next month.  Since our ftp program has
+a bug in it that scrambles the date [tried to fix and failed] a
+look at the file size will have to do, but we will try to see a
+new copy has at least one byte more or less.
+
+
+Information about Project Gutenberg (one page)
+
+We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work.  The
+time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours
+to get any etext selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright
+searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc.  This
+projected audience is one hundred million readers.  If our value
+per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2
+million dollars per hour this year as we release thirty-six text
+files per month, or 432 more Etexts in 1999 for a total of 2000+
+If these reach just 10% of the computerized population, then the
+total should reach over 200 billion Etexts given away this year.
+
+The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away One Trillion Etext
+Files by December 31, 2001.  [10,000 x 100,000,000 = 1 Trillion]
+This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers,
+which is only ~5% of the present number of computer users.
+
+At our revised rates of production, we will reach only one-third
+of that goal by the end of 2001, or about 3,333 Etexts unless we
+manage to get some real funding; currently our funding is mostly
+from Michael Hart's salary at Carnegie-Mellon University, and an
+assortment of sporadic gifts; this salary is only good for a few
+more years, so we are looking for something to replace it, as we
+don't want Project Gutenberg to be so dependent on one person.
+
+We need your donations more than ever!
+
+
+All donations should be made to "Project Gutenberg/CMU": and are
+tax deductible to the extent allowable by law.  (CMU = Carnegie-
+Mellon University).
+
+For these and other matters, please mail to:
+
+Project Gutenberg
+P. O. Box  2782
+Champaign, IL 61825
+
+When all other email fails. . .try our Executive Director:
+Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com>
+hart@pobox.com forwards to hart@prairienet.org and archive.org
+if your mail bounces from archive.org, I will still see it, if
+it bounces from prairienet.org, better resend later on. . . .
+
+We would prefer to send you this information by email.
+
+******
+
+To access Project Gutenberg etexts, use any Web browser
+to view http://promo.net/pg.  This site lists Etexts by
+author and by title, and includes information about how
+to get involved with Project Gutenberg.  You could also
+download our past Newsletters, or subscribe here.  This
+is one of our major sites, please email hart@pobox.com,
+for a more complete list of our various sites.
+
+To go directly to the etext collections, use FTP or any
+Web browser to visit a Project Gutenberg mirror (mirror
+sites are available on 7 continents; mirrors are listed
+at http://promo.net/pg).
+
+Mac users, do NOT point and click, typing works better.
+
+Example FTP session:
+
+ftp sunsite.unc.edu
+login: anonymous
+password: your@login
+cd pub/docs/books/gutenberg
+cd etext90 through etext99
+dir [to see files]
+get or mget [to get files. . .set bin for zip files]
+GET GUTINDEX.??  [to get a year's listing of books, e.g., GUTINDEX.99]
+GET GUTINDEX.ALL [to get a listing of ALL books]
+
+***
+
+**Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor**
+
+(Three Pages)
+
+
+***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS**START***
+Why is this "Small Print!" statement here?  You know: lawyers.
+They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with
+your copy of this etext, even if you got it for free from
+someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our
+fault.  So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement
+disclaims most of our liability to you.  It also tells you how
+you can distribute copies of this etext if you want to.
+
+*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS ETEXT
+By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
+etext, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept
+this "Small Print!" statement.  If you do not, you can receive
+a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this etext by
+sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person
+you got it from.  If you received this etext on a physical
+medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request.
+
+ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM ETEXTS
+This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-
+tm etexts, is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor
+Michael S. Hart through the Project Gutenberg Association at
+Carnegie-Mellon University (the "Project").  Among other
+things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright
+on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and
+distribute it in the United States without permission and
+without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules, set forth
+below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this etext
+under the Project's "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark.
+
+To create these etexts, the Project expends considerable
+efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain
+works.  Despite these efforts, the Project's etexts and any
+medium they may be on may contain "Defects".  Among other
+things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
+intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged
+disk or other etext medium, a computer virus, or computer
+codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.
+
+LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES
+But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below,
+[1] the Project (and any other party you may receive this
+etext from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext) disclaims all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including
+legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR
+UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT,
+INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE
+OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE
+POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES.
+
+If you discover a Defect in this etext within 90 days of
+receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any)
+you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that
+time to the person you received it from.  If you received it
+on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and
+such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement
+copy.  If you received it electronically, such person may
+choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to
+receive it electronically.
+
+THIS ETEXT IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS".  NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS
+TO THE ETEXT OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT
+LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A
+PARTICULAR PURPOSE.
+
+Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or
+the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the
+above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you
+may have other legal rights.
+
+INDEMNITY
+You will indemnify and hold the Project, its directors,
+officers, members and agents harmless from all liability, cost
+and expense, including legal fees, that arise directly or
+indirectly from any of the following that you do or cause:
+[1] distribution of this etext, [2] alteration, modification,
+or addition to the etext, or [3] any Defect.
+
+DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm"
+You may distribute copies of this etext electronically, or by
+disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this
+"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg,
+or:
+
+[1]  Only give exact copies of it.  Among other things, this
+     requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the
+     etext or this "small print!" statement.  You may however,
+     if you wish, distribute this etext in machine readable
+     binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form,
+     including any form resulting from conversion by word pro-
+     cessing or hypertext software, but only so long as
+     *EITHER*:
+
+     [*]  The etext, when displayed, is clearly readable, and
+          does *not* contain characters other than those
+          intended by the author of the work, although tilde
+          (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may
+          be used to convey punctuation intended by the
+          author, and additional characters may be used to
+          indicate hypertext links; OR
+
+     [*]  The etext may be readily converted by the reader at
+          no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent
+          form by the program that displays the etext (as is
+          the case, for instance, with most word processors);
+          OR
+
+     [*]  You provide, or agree to also provide on request at
+          no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the
+          etext in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC
+          or other equivalent proprietary form).
+
+[2]  Honor the etext refund and replacement provisions of this
+     "Small Print!" statement.
+
+[3]  Pay a trademark license fee to the Project of 20% of the
+     net profits you derive calculated using the method you
+     already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  If you
+     don't derive profits, no royalty is due.  Royalties are
+     payable to "Project Gutenberg Association/Carnegie-Mellon
+     University" within the 60 days following each
+     date you prepare (or were legally required to prepare)
+     your annual (or equivalent periodic) tax return.
+
+WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO?
+The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time,
+scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty
+free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution
+you can think of.  Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg
+Association / Carnegie-Mellon University".
+
+*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END*
+
+
+
+
+
+This Etext prepared by Bill Stoddard - e-mail: hscrr@vgernet.net
+
+
+
+
+
+Animal Heroes
+
+by Ernest Thompson Seton
+
+
+
+
+Note to Reader
+
+A hero is an individual of unusual gifts and achievements.
+Whether it be man or animal, this definition applies; and it is
+the histories of such that appeal to the imagination and to the
+hearts of those who hear them.
+
+In this volume every one of the stories, though more or less
+composite, is founded on the actual life of a veritable animal
+hero. The most composite is the White Reindeer. This story I
+wrote by Utrovand in Norway during the summer of 1900, while the
+Reindeer herds grazed in sight on the near uplands.
+
+The Lynx is founded on some of my own early experiences in the
+backwoods.
+
+It is less than ten years since the 'Jack Warhorse' won his
+hero-crown. Thousands of "Kaskadoans" will remember him, and by
+the name Warhorse his coursing exploits are recorded in several
+daily papers.
+
+The least composite is Arnaux. It is so nearly historical that
+several who knew the bird have supplied additional items of
+information.
+
+The nest of the destroying Peregrines, with its owners and their
+young, is now to be seen in the American Museum of Natural
+History of New York. The Museum authorities inform me that Pigeon
+badges with the following numbers were found in the nest: 9970-S,
+1696, U. 63, 77, J. F. 52, Ex. 705, 6-1894, C 20900.
+Perhaps some Pigeon-lover may learn from these lines the fate of
+one or other wonderful flier that has long been recorded "never
+returned."
+
+
+THE SLUM CAT
+
+LIFE I
+
+I
+
+M-e-a-t! M-e-a-t!" came shrilling down Scrimper's Alley. Surely
+the Pied Piper of Hamelin was there, for it seemed that all the
+Cats in the neighborhood were running toward the sound, though
+the Dogs, it must be confessed, looked
+scornfully indifferent.
+
+"Meat! Meat! "and louder; then the centre of attraction came in
+view--a rough, dirty little man with a push-cart; while
+straggling behind him were a score of Cats that joined in his cry
+with a sound nearly the same as his own. Every fifty yards, that
+is, as soon as a goodly throng of Cats was gathered, the
+push-cart stopped. The man with the magic voice took out of the
+box in his cart a skewer on which were pieces of strong-smelling
+boiled liver. With a long stick he pushed the pieces off. Each
+Cat seized on one, and wheeling, with a slight depression of the
+ears and a little tiger growl and glare, she rushed away with her
+prize to devour it in some safe retreat.
+
+"Meat! Meat!" And still they came to get their portions. All were
+well known to the meat-man. There was Castiglione's Tiger; this
+was Jones's Black; here was Pralitsky's "Torkershell," and this
+was Madame Danton's White; there sneaked Blenkinshoff's Maltee,
+and that climbing on the barrow was Sawyer's old Orange Billy, an
+impudent fraud that never had had any financial backing,--all to
+be remembered and kept in account. This one's owner was sure pay,
+a dime a week; that one's doubtful. There was John Washee's Cat,
+that got only a small piece because John was in arrears. Then
+there was the saloon-keeper's collared and ribboned ratter, which
+got an extra lump because the 'barkeep' was liberal; and the
+rounds-man's Cat, that brought no cash, but got unusual
+consideration because the meat-man did. But there were others. A
+black Cat with a white nose came rushing confidently with the
+rest, only to be repulsed savagely. Alas! Pussy did not
+understand. She had been a pensioner of the barrow for months.
+Why this unkind change? It was beyond her comprehension. But the
+meat-man knew. Her mistress had stopped payment. The meat-man
+kept no books but his memory, and it never was at fault.
+
+Outside this patrician 'four hundred' about the barrow, were
+other Cats, keeping away from the push-cart because they were not
+on the list, the Social Register as it were, yet fascinated by
+the heavenly smell and the faint possibility of accidental good
+luck. Among these hangers-on was a thin gray Slummer, a homeless
+Cat that lived by her wits--slab-sided and not over-clean. One
+could see at a glance that she was doing her duty by a family in
+some out-of-the-way corner. She kept one eye on the barrow circle
+and the other on the possible Dogs.
+She saw a score of happy Cats slink off with their delicious
+'daily' and their tiger-like air, but no opening for her, till a
+big Tom of her own class sprang on a little pensioner with intent
+to rob. The victim dropped the meat to defend herself against the
+enemy, and before the 'all-powerful' could intervene, the gray
+Slummer saw her chance, seized the prize, and was gone.
+
+She went through the hole in Menzie's side door and over the wall
+at the back, then sat down and devoured the lump of liver, licked
+her chops, felt absolutely happy, and set out by devious ways to
+the rubbish-yard, where, in the bottom of an old cracker-box, her
+family was awaiting her. A plaintive mewing reached her ears. She
+went at speed and reached the box to see a huge Black Tom-cat
+calmly destroying her brood. He was twice as big as she, but she
+went at him with all her strength, and he did as most animals
+will do when caught wrong-doing, he turned and ran away. Only one
+was left, a little thing like its mother, but of more pronounced
+color--gray with black spots, and a white touch on nose, ears,
+and tail-tip. There can be no question of the mother's grief for
+a few days; but that wore off, and all her care was for the
+survivor. That benevolence was as far as possible from the
+motives of the murderous old Tom there can be no doubt; but he
+proved a blessing in deep disguise, for both mother and Kit were
+visibly bettered in a short time. The daily quest for food
+continued. The meat-man rarely proved a success, but the ash-cans
+were there, and if they did not afford a meat-supply, at least
+they were sure to produce potato-skins that could be used to
+allay the gripe of hunger for another day.
+
+One night the mother Cat smelt a wonderful smell that came from
+the East River at the end of the alley. A new smell always needs
+investigating, and when it is attractive as well as new, there is
+but one course open. It led Pussy to the docks a block away, and
+then out on a wharf, away from any cover but the night. A sudden
+noise, a growl and a rush, were the first notice she had that she
+was cut off by her old enemy, the Wharf Dog. There was only one
+escape. She leaped from the wharf to the vessel from which the
+smell came. The Dog could not follow, so when the fish-boat
+sailed in the morning Pussy unwillingly went with her and was
+seen no more.
+
+
+II
+
+The Slum Kitten waited in vain for her mother. The morning came
+and went. She became very hungry. Toward evening a deep-laid
+instinct drove her forth to seek food. She slunk out of the old
+box, and feeling her way silently among the rubbish, she smelt
+everything that seemed eatable, but without finding food. At
+length she reached the wooden steps leading down into Jap Malee's
+bird-store underground. The door was open a little. She wandered
+into a world of rank and curious smells and a number of living
+things in cages all about her. A negro was sitting idly on a box
+in a corner. He saw the little stranger enter and watched it
+curiously. It wandered past some Rabbits. They paid no heed. It
+came to a wide-barred cage in which was a Fox. The gentleman with
+the bushy tail was in a far corner. He crouched low; his eyes
+glowed. The Kitten wandered, sniffing, up to the bars, put its
+head in, sniffed again, then made toward the feed-pan, to be
+seized in a flash by the crouching Fox. It gave a frightened
+"mew," but a single shake cut that short and would have ended
+Kitty's nine lives at once, had not the negro come to the rescue.
+He had no weapon and could not get into the cage, but he spat
+with such copious vigor in the Fox's face that he dropped the
+Kitten and returned to the corner, there to sit blinking his eyes
+in sullen fear.
+
+The negro pulled the Kitten out. The shake of the beast of prey
+seemed to have stunned the victim, really to have saved it much
+suffering. The Kitten seemed unharmed, but giddy. It tottered in
+a circle for a time, then slowly revived, and a few minutes later
+was purring in the negro's lap, apparently none the worse, when
+Jap Malee, the bird-man, came home.
+
+Jap was not an Oriental; he was a full-blooded Cockney, but his
+eyes were such little accidental slits aslant in his round, flat
+face, that his first name was forgotten in the highly descriptive
+title of "Jap." He was not especially unkind to the birds and
+beasts whose sales were supposed to furnish his living, but his
+eye was on the main chance; he knew what he wanted. He didn't
+want the Slum Kitten.
+
+The negro gave it all the food it could eat, then carried it to a
+distant block and dropped it in a neighboring iron-yard.
+
+
+III
+
+One full meal is as much as any one needs in two or three days,
+and under the influence of this stored-up heat and power, Kitty
+was very lively. She walked around the piled-up rubbish, cast
+curious glances on far-away Canary-birds in cages that hung from
+high windows; she peeped over fences, discovered a large Dog, got
+quietly down again, and presently finding a sheltered place in
+full sunlight, she lay down and slept for an hour. A
+slight'sniff' awakened her, and before her stood a large Black
+Cat with glowing green eyes, and the thick neck and square jaws
+that distinguish the Tom; a scar marked his cheek, and his left
+ear was torn. His look was far from friendly; his ears moved
+backward a little, his tail twitched, and a faint, deep sound
+came from his throat. The Kitten innocently walked toward him.
+She did not remember him. He rubbed the sides of his jaws on a
+post, and quietly, slowly turned and disappeared. The last that
+she saw of him was the end of his tail twitching from side to
+side; and the little Slummer had no idea that she had been as
+near death to-day, as she had been when she ventured into the
+fox-cage.
+
+As night came on the Kitten began to feel hungry. She examined
+carefully the long invisible colored stream that the wind is made
+of. She selected the most interesting of its strands, and,
+nose-led, followed. In the corner of the iron-yard was a box of
+garbage. Among this she found something that answered fairly well
+for food; a bucket of water under a faucet offered a chance to
+quench her thirst.
+
+The night was spent chiefly in prowling about and learning the
+main lines of the iron-yard. The next day she passed as before,
+sleeping in the sun. Thus the time wore on. Sometimes she found a
+good meal at the garbage-box, sometimes there was nothing. Once
+she found the big Black Tom there, but discreetly withdrew before
+he saw her. The water-bucket was usually at its place, or,
+failing that, there were some muddy little pools on the stone
+below. But the garbage-box was very unreliable. Once it left her
+for three days without food. She searched along the high fence,
+and seeing a small hole, crawled through that and found herself
+in the open street. This was a new world, but before she had
+ventured far, there was a noisy, rumbling rush--a large Dog came
+bounding, and Kitty had barely time to run back into the hole in
+the fence. She was dreadfully hungry, and glad to find some old
+potato-peelings, which gave a little respite from the
+hunger-pang. In the morning she did not sleep, but prowled for
+food. Some Sparrows chirruped in the yard. They were often there,
+but now they were viewed with new eyes. The steady pressure of
+hunger had roused the wild hunter in the Kitten; those Sparrows
+were game--were food. She crouched instinctively and stalked from
+cover to cover, but the chirpers were alert and flew in time. Not
+once, but many times, she tried without result except to confirm
+the Sparrows in the list of things to be eaten if obtainable.
+
+On the fifth day of ill luck the Slum Kitty ventured forth into
+the street, desperately bent on finding food. When far from the
+haven hole some small boys opened fire at her with pieces of
+brick. She ran in fear. A Dog joined in the chase, and Kitty's
+position grew perilous; but an old-fashioned iron fence round a
+house-front was there, and she slipped in between the rails as
+the Dog overtook her. A woman in a window above shouted at the
+Dog. Then the boys dropped a piece of cat-meat down to the
+unfortunate; and Kitty had the most delicious meal of her life.
+The stoop afforded a refuge. Under this she sat patiently till
+nightfall came with quiet, then sneaked back like a shadow to her
+old iron-yard.
+
+Thus the days went by for two months. She grew in size and
+strength and in an intimate knowledge of the immediate
+neighborhood. She made the acquaintance of Downey Street, where
+long rows of ash-cans were to be seen every morning. She formed
+her own ideas of their proprietors. The big house was to her, not
+a Roman Catholic mission, but a place whose garbage-tins abounded
+in choicest fish scrapings. She soon made the acquaintance of the
+meat-man, and joined in the shy fringe of Cats that formed the
+outer circle. She also met the Wharf Dog as well as two or three
+other horrors of the same class. She knew what to expect of them
+and how to avoid them; and she was happy in being the inventor of
+a new industry. Many thousand Cats have doubtless hung, in hope,
+about the tempting milk-cans that the early milk-man leaves on
+steps and window-ledges, and it was by the merest accident that
+Kitty found one with a broken lid, and so was taught to raise it
+and have a satisfying drink. Bottles, of course, were beyond her,
+but many a can has a misfit lid, and Kitty was very painstaking
+in her efforts to discover the loose-jointed ones. Finally she
+extended her range by exploration till she achieved the heart of
+the next block, and farther, till once more among the barrels and
+boxes of the yard behind the bird-man's cellar.
+
+The old iron-yard never had been home, she had always felt like a
+stranger there; but here she had a sense of ownership, and at
+once resented the presence of another small Cat. She approached
+this newcomer with threatening air. The two had got as far as
+snarling and spitting when a bucket of water from an upper window
+drenched them both and effectually cooled their wrath. They fled,
+the newcomer over the wall, Slum Kitty under the very box where
+she had been born. This whole back region appealed to her
+strongly, and here again she took up her abode. The yard had no
+more garbage food than the other and no water at all, but it was
+frequented by stray Rats and a few Mice of the finest quality;
+these were occasionally secured, and afforded not only a
+palatable meal, but were the cause of her winning a friend.
+
+
+IV
+
+Kitty was now fully grown. She was a striking-looking Cat of the
+tiger type. Her marks were black on a very pale gray, and the
+four beauty-spots of white on nose, ears, and tail-tip lent a
+certain distinction. She was very expert at getting a living, and
+yet she had some days of starvation and failed in her ambition of
+catching a Sparrow. She was quite alone, but a new force was
+coming into her life. 
+
+She was lying in the sun one August day, when a large Black Cat
+came walking along the top of a wall in her direction. She
+recognized him at once by his torn ear. She slunk into her box
+and hid. He picked his way gingerly, bounded lightly to a shed
+that was at the end of the yard, and was crossing the roof when a
+Yellow Cat rose up. The Black Torn glared and growled, so did the
+Yellow Tom. Their tails lashed from side to side. Strong throats
+growled and yowled. They approached each other with ears laid
+back, with muscles a-tense.
+
+"Yow-yow-ow!" said the Black One.
+
+"Wow-w-w!" was the slightly deeper answer.
+
+"Ya-wow-wow-wow!" said the Black One, edging up half an inch
+nearer.
+
+"Yow-w-w!" was the Yellow answer, as the blond Cat rose to full
+height and stepped with vast dignity a whole inch forward.
+"Yow-w!" and he went another inch, while his tail went swish,
+thump, from one side to the other.
+
+"Ya-wow-yow-w!" screamed the Black in a rising tone, and he
+backed the eighth of an inch, as he marked the broad, unshrinking
+breast before him.
+
+Windows opened all around, human voices were heard, but the Cat
+scene went on.
+
+"Yow-yow-ow!" rumbled the Yellow Peril, his voice deepening as
+the other's rose.
+"Yow! " and he advanced another step.
+
+Now their noses were but three inches apart; they stood sidewise,
+both ready to clinch, but each waiting for the other. They glared
+for three minutes in silence and like statues, except that each
+tail-tip was twisting.
+
+The Yellow began again. "Yow-ow- ow!" in deep tone.
+
+"Ya-a-a--a-a!" screamed the Black, with intent to strike terror
+by his yell; but he retreated one sixteenth of an inch. The
+Yellow walked up a long half-inch; their whiskers were mixing
+now; another advance, and their noses almost touched.
+
+"Yo-w-w!" said Yellow, like a deep moan.
+
+"Y-a-a-a-a-a-a !" screamed the Black, but he retreated a
+thirty-second of an inch, and the Yellow Warrior closed and
+clinched like a demon.
+
+Oh, how they rolled and bit and tore, especially the Yellow One!
+
+How they pitched and gripped and hugged, but especially the
+Yellow One!
+
+Over and over, sometimes one on top, sometimes another, but
+mostly the Yellow One; and farther till they rolled off the roof,
+amid cheers from all the windows. They lost not a second in that
+fall to the junk-yard; they tore and clawed all the way down, but
+especially the Yellow One. And when they struck the ground, still
+fighting, the one on top was chiefly the Yellow One; and before
+they separated both had had as much as they wanted, especially
+the Black One! He scaled a wall and, bleeding and growling,
+disappeared, while the news was passed from window to window that
+Cayley's Nig had been licked at last by Orange Billy.
+
+Either the Yellow Cat was a very clever
+seeker, or else Slum Kitty did not hide very
+hard; but he discovered her among the boxes,
+
+and she made no attempt to get away, probably because she had
+witnessed the fight. There is nothing like success in warfare to
+win the female heart, and thereafter the Yellow Tom and Kitty
+became very good friends, not sharing each other's lives or
+food,--Cats do not do that way much,--but recognizing each other
+as entitled to special friendly privileges.
+
+
+V
+
+September had gone. October's shortening days were on when an
+event took place in the old cracker-box. If Orange Billy had come
+he would have seen five little Kittens curled up in the embrace
+of their mother, the little Slum Cat. It was a wonderful thing
+for her. She felt all the elation an animal mother can feel, all
+the delight, and she loved them and licked them with a tenderness
+that must have been a surprise to herself, had she had the power
+to think of such things.
+
+She had added a joy to her joyless life, but she had also added a
+care and a heavy weight to her heavy load. All her strength was
+taken now to find food. The burden increased as the offspring
+grew up big enough to scramble about the boxes, which they did
+daily during her absence after they were six weeks old. That
+troubles go in flocks and luck in streaks, is well known in
+Slumland. Kitty had had three encounters with Dogs, and had been
+stoned by Malee's negro during a two days' starve. Then the tide
+turned. The very next morning she found a full milk-can without a
+lid, successfully robbed a barrow pensioner, and found a big
+fish-head, all within two hours. She had just returned with that
+perfect peace which comes only of a full stomach, when she saw a
+little brown creature in her junk-yard. Hunting memories came
+back in strength; she didn't know what it was, but she had killed
+and eaten several Mice, and this was evidently a big Mouse with
+bob-tail and large ears. Kitty stalked it with elaborate but
+unnecessary caution; the little Rabbit simply sat up and looked
+faintly amused. He did not try to run, and Kitty sprang on him
+and bore him off. As she was not hungry, she carried him to the
+cracker-box and dropped him among the Kittens. He was not much
+hurt. He got over his fright, and since he could not get out of
+the box, he snuggled among the Kittens, and when they began to
+take their evening meal he very soon decided to join them. The
+old Cat was puzzled. The hunter instinct had been dominant, but
+absence of hunger had saved the Rabbit and given the maternal
+instinct a chance to appear. The result was that the Rabbit
+became a member of the family, and was thenceforth guarded and
+fed with the Kittens.
+
+Two weeks went by. The Kittens romped much among the boxes during
+their mother's absence. The Rabbit could not get out of the box.
+Jap Malee, seeing the Kittens about the back yard, told the negro
+to shoot them. This he was doing one morning with a 22-calibre
+rifle. He had shot one after another and seen them drop from
+sight into the crannies of the lumber-pile, when the old Cat came
+running along the wall from the dock, carrying a small Wharf Rat.
+He had been ready to shoot her, too, but the sight of that Rat
+changed his plans: a rat-catching Cat was worthy to live. It
+happened to be the very first one she had ever caught, but it
+saved her life. She threaded the lumber-maze to the cracker-box
+and was probably puzzled to find that there were no Kittens to
+come at her call, and the Rabbit would not partake of the Rat.
+Pussy curled up to nurse the Rabbit, but she called from time to
+time to summon the Kittens. Guided by that call, the negro
+crawled quietly to the place, and peering down into the
+cracker-box, saw, to his intense surprise, that it contained the
+old Cat, a live Rabbit, and a dead Rat.
+
+The mother Cat laid back her ears and snarled. The negro
+withdrew, but a minute later a board was dropped on the opening
+of the cracker-box, and the den with its tenants, dead and alive,
+was lifted into the bird-cellar.
+
+"Say, boss, look a-hyar--hyar's where de
+
+little Rabbit got to wot we lost. Yo' sho t'ought Ah stoled him
+for de 'tater-bake."
+
+Kitty and Bunny were carefully put in a large wire cage and
+exhibited as a happy family till a few days later, when the
+Rabbit took sick and died.
+
+Pussy had never been happy in the cage. She had enough to eat and
+drink, but she
+craved her freedom--would likely have gotten 'death or liberty'
+now, but that during the four days' captivity she had so cleaned
+and slicked her fur that her unusual coloring was seen, and Jap
+decided to keep her.
+
+
+LIFE II
+
+VI
+
+Jap Malee was as disreputable a little Cockney bantam as ever
+sold cheap Canary-birds in a cellar. He was extremely poor, and
+the negro lived with him because the 'Henglish-man' was willing
+to share bed and board, and otherwise admit a perfect equality
+that few Americans conceded. Jap was perfectly honest according
+to his lights, but he hadn't  any lights; and it was well known
+that his chief revenue was derived from storing and restoring
+stolen Dogs and Cats. The half-dozen Canaries were mere blinds.
+Yet Jap believed in himself. "Hi tell you, Sammy, me boy, you'll
+see me with 'orses of my own yet," he would say, when some
+trifling success inflated his dirty little chest. He was not
+without ambition, in a weak, flabby, once-in-a-while way, and he
+sometimes wished to be known as a fancier. Indeed, he had once
+gone the wild length of offering a Cat for exhibition at the
+Knickerbocker High Society Cat and Pet Show, with three not
+over-clear objects: first, to gratify his ambition; second, to
+secure the exhibitor's free pass; and, third, "well, you kneow,
+one 'as to kneow the valuable Cats, you kneow, when one goes
+a-catting." But this was a society show, the exhibitor had to be
+introduced, and his miserable alleged half-Persian was scornfully
+rejected. The 'Lost and Found' columns of the papers were the
+only ones of interest to Jap, but he had noticed and saved a
+clipping about 'breeding for fur.' This was stuck on the wall of
+his den, and under its influence he set about what seemed a cruel
+experiment with the Slum Cat. First, he soaked her dirty fur with
+stuff to kill the two or three kinds of creepers she wore; and,
+when it had done its work, he washed her thoroughly in soap and
+warm water, in spite of her teeth, claws, and yowls. Kitty was
+savagely indignant, but a warm and happy glow spread over her as
+she dried off in a cage near the stove, and her fur began to
+fluff out with wonderful softness and whiteness. Jap and his
+assistant were much pleased with the result, and Kitty ought to
+have been. But this was preparatory: now for the experiment.
+"Nothing is so good for growing fur as plenty of oily food and
+continued exposure to cold weather," said the clipping. Winter
+was at hand, and Jap Malee put Kitty's cage out in the yard,
+protected only from the rain and the direct wind, and fed her
+with all the oil-cake and fish-heads she could eat. In a week a
+change began to show. She was rapidly getting fat and sleek--she
+had nothing to do but get fat and dress her fur. Her cage was
+kept clean, and nature responded to the chill weather and the
+oily food by making Kitty's coat thicker and glossier every day,
+so that by midwinter she was an unusually beautiful Cat in the
+fullest and finest of fur, with markings that were at least a
+rarity. Jap was much pleased with the result of the experiment,
+and as a very little success had a wonderful effect on him, he
+began to dream of the paths of glory. Why not send the Slum Cat
+to the show now coming on? The failure of the year before made
+him more careful as to details. "'T won't do, ye kneow, Sammy, to
+henter 'er as a tramp Cat, ye kneow," he observed to his help;
+"but it kin be arranged to suit the Knickerbockers. Nothink like
+a good noime, ye kneow. Ye see now it had orter be 'Royal'
+somethink or other--nothink goes with the Knickerbockers like
+'Royal' anythink. Now 'Royal Dick,' or 'Royal Sam,' 'ow's that?
+But 'owld on; them's Tom names. Oi say, Sammy, wot's the noime of
+that island where ye wuz born?"
+
+"Analostan Island, sah, was my native vicinity, sah."
+
+"Oi say, now, that's good, ye kneow. 'Royal Analostan,' by Jove!
+The onliest pedigreed 'Royal Analostan' in the 'ole sheow, ye
+kneow. Ain't that foine?" and they mingled their cackles.
+
+"But we'll 'ave to 'ave a pedigree, ye kneow." So a very long
+fake pedigree on the recognized lines was prepared. One dark
+afternoon Sam, in a borrowed silk hat, delivered the Cat and the
+pedigree at the show door. The darkey did the honors. He had been
+a Sixth Avenue barber, and he could put on more pomp and lofty
+hauteur in five minutes than Jap Malee could have displayed in a
+lifetime, and this, doubtless, was one reason for the respectful
+reception awarded the Royal Analostan at the Cat Show.
+
+Jap was very proud to be an exhibitor; but he had all a Cockney's
+reverence for the upper class, and when on the opening day he
+went to the door, he was overpowered to see the array of
+carriages and silk hats. The gate-man looked at him sharply, but
+passed him on his ticket, doubtless taking him for stable-boy to
+some exhibitor. The hall had velvet carpets before the long rows
+of cages. Jap, in his small cunning, was sneaking down the side
+rows, glancing at the Cats of all kinds, noting the blue ribbons
+and the reds, peering about but not daring to ask for his own
+exhibit, inly trembling to think what the gorgeous gathering of
+fashion would say if they discovered the trick he was playing on
+them. He had passed all around the outer aisles and seen many
+prize-winners, but no sign of Slum Kitty. The inner aisles were
+more crowded. He picked his way down them, but still no Kitty,
+and he decided that it was a mistake; the judges had rejected the
+Cat later. Never mind; he had his exhibitor's ticket, and now
+knew where several valuable Persians and Angoras were to be
+found.
+
+In the middle of the centre aisle were the high-class Cats. A
+great throng was there. The passage was roped, and two policemen
+were in place to keep the crowd moving. Jap wriggled in among
+them; he was too short to see over, and though the richly gowned
+folks shrunk from his shabby old clothes, he could not get near;
+but he gathered from the remarks that the gem of the show was
+there.
+
+"Oh, isn't  she a beauty!" said one tall woman.
+
+"What distinction!" was the reply.
+
+"One cannot mistake the air that comes only from ages of the most
+refined surroundings."
+
+"How I should like to own that superb creature!"
+
+"Such dignity--such repose!"
+
+"She has an authentic pedigree nearly back to the Pharaohs, I
+hear"; and poor, dirty little Jap marvelled at his own cheek in
+sending his Slum Cat into such company.
+
+"Excuse me, madame." The director of the show now appeared,
+edging his way through the crowd. "The artist of the'sporting
+Element' is here, under orders to sketch the 'pearl of the show'
+for immediate use. May I ask you to stand a little aside? That's
+it; thank you.
+ 
+"Oh, Mr. Director, cannot you persuade him to sell that beautiful
+creature?"
+
+"Hm, I don't know," was the reply. "I understand he is a man of
+ample means and
+not at all approachable; but I'11 try, I'll try, madame. He was
+quite unwilling to exhibit his treasure at all, so I understand
+from his butler. Here, you, keep out of the way," growled the
+director, as the shabby little man eagerly pushed between the
+artist and the blue-blooded Cat. But the disreputable one wanted
+to know where valuable Cats were to be found. He came near enough
+to get a glimpse of the cage, and there read a placard which
+announced that "The blue ribbon and gold medal of the
+Knickerbocker High Society Cat and Pet Show" had been awarded to
+the "thoroughbred, pedigreed Royal Analostan, imported and
+exhibited by J. Malee, Esq., the well-known fancier. (Not for
+sale.)" Jap caught his breath and stared again. Yes, surely;
+there, high in a gilded cage, on velvet cushions, with four
+policemen for guards, her fur bright black and pale gray, her
+bluish eyes slightly closed, was his Slum Kitty, looking the
+picture of a Cat bored to death with a lot of fuss that she likes
+as little as she understands it.
+
+
+VII
+
+Jap Malee lingered around that cage, taking in the remarks, for
+hours--drinking a draught of glory such as he had never known in
+life before and rarely glimpsed in his dreams. But he saw that it
+would be wise for him to remain unknown; his "butler" must do all
+the business.
+
+It was Slum Kitty who made that show a success. Each day her
+value went up in her owner's eyes. He did not know what prices
+had been given for Cats, and thought that he was touching a
+record pitch when his "butler" gave the director authority to
+sell the Analostan for one hundred dollars.
+
+This is how it came about that the Slum Cat found herself
+transferred from the show to a Fifth Avenue mansion. She evinced
+a most unaccountable wildness at first. Her objection to petting,
+however, was explained on the ground of her aristocratic dislike
+of familiarity. Her retreat from the Lap-dog onto the centre of
+the dinner-table was understood to express a deep-rooted though
+mistaken idea of avoiding a defiling touch. Her assaults on a pet
+Canary were condoned for the reason that in her native Orient she
+had been used to despotic example. The patrician way in which she
+would get the cover off a milk-can was especially applauded. Her
+dislike of her silk-lined basket, and her frequent dashes against
+the plate-glass windows, were easily understood: the basket was
+too plain, and plate-glass was not used in her royal home. Her
+spotting of the carpet evidenced her Eastern modes of thought.
+The failure of her several attempts to catch Sparrows in the
+high-walled back yard was new proof of the royal impotency of her
+bringing up; while her frequent wallowings in the garbage-can
+were understood to be the manifestation of a little pardonable
+high-born eccentricity. She was fed and pampered, shown and
+praised; but she was not happy. Kitty was homesick! She clawed at
+that blue ribbon round her neck till she got it off; she jumped
+against the plate-glass because that seemed the road to outside;
+she avoided people and Dogs because they had always proved
+hostile and cruel; and she would sit and gaze on the roofs and
+back yards at the other side of the window, wishing she could be
+among them for a change.
+
+But she was strictly watched, was never allowed outside--so that
+all the happy garbage-can moments occurred while these
+receptacles of joy were indoors. One night in March, however, as
+they were set out a-row for the early scavenger, the Royal
+Analostan saw her chance, slipped out of the door, and was lost
+to view.
+
+Of course there was a grand stir; but Pussy neither knew nor
+cared anything about that--her one thought was to go home. It may
+have been chance that took her back in the direction of Gramercy
+Grange Hill, but she did arrive there after sundry small
+adventures. And now what? She was not at home, and she had cut
+off her living. She was beginning to be hungry, and yet she had a
+peculiar sense of happiness. She cowered in a front garden for
+some time. A raw east wind had been rising, and now it came to
+her with a particularly friendly message; man would have called
+it an unpleasant smell of the docks, but to Pussy it was welcome
+tidings from home. She trotted down the long Street due east,
+threading the rails of front gardens, stopping like a statue for
+an instant, or crossing the street in search of the darkest side,
+and came at length to the docks and to the water. But the place
+was strange. She could go north or south. Something turned her
+southward; and, dodging among docks and Dogs, carts and Cats,
+crooked arms of the bay and straight board fences, she got, in an
+hour or two, among familiar scenes and smells; and, before the
+sun came up, she had crawled back -weary and foot-sore through
+the same old hole in the same old fence and over a wall to her
+junk-yard back of the bird-cellar--yes, back into the very 
+cracker-box where she was born.
+
+Oh, if the Fifth Avenue family could only have seen her in her
+native Orient!
+
+After a long rest she came quietly down from the cracker-box
+toward the steps leading to the cellar, engaged in her old-time
+pursuit of seeking for eatables. The door opened, and there stood
+the negro. He shouted to the bird-man inside:
+
+"Say, boss, come hyar. Ef dere ain't dat dar Royal Ankalostan am
+comed back!"
+
+Jap came in time to see the Cat jumping the wall. They called
+loudly and in the most seductive, wheedling tones: "Pussy, Pussy,
+poor Pussy! Come, Pussy!" But Pussy was not prepossessed in their
+favor, and disappeared to forage in her old-time haunts.
+
+The Royal Analostan had been a windfall for Jap--had been the
+means of adding many comforts to the cellar and several prisoners
+to the cages. It was now of the utmost importance to recapture
+her majesty. Stale meat-offal and other infallible lures were put
+out till Pussy, urged by the reestablished hunger-pinch, crept up
+to a large fish-head in a box-trap; the negro, in watching,
+pulled the string that dropped the lid, and, a minute later, the
+Analostan was once more among the prisoners in the cellar.
+Meanwhile Jap had been watching the 'Lost and Found' column.
+There it was, "$25 reward," etc. That night Mr. Malee's butler
+called at the Fifth Avenue mansion with the missing cat. "Mr.
+Malee's compliments, sah. De Royal Analostan had recurred in her
+recent proprietor's vicinity and residence, sah. Mr. Malee had
+pleasure in recuperating the Royal Analostan, sah." Of course Mr.
+Malee could not be rewarded, but the butler was open to any
+offer, and plainly showed that he expected the promised reward
+and something more.
+
+Kitty was guarded very carefully after that; but so far from
+being disgusted with the old life of starving, and glad of her
+ease, she became wilder and more dissatisfied.
+
+
+VIII
+
+The spring was doing its New York best. The dirty little English
+Sparrows were tumbling over each other in their gutter brawls,
+Cats yowled all night in the areas, and the Fifth Avenue family
+were thinking of their country residence. They packed up, closed
+house and moved off to their summer home, some fifty miles away,
+and Pussy, in a basket, went with them.
+
+"Just what she needed: a change of air and scene to wean her away
+from her former owners and make her happy."
+
+The basket was lifted into a Rumble-shaker. New sounds and
+passing smells were entered and left. A turn in the course was
+made. Then a roaring of many feet, more swinging of the basket; a
+short pause, another change of direction, then some clicks, some
+bangs, a long shrill whistle, and door-bells of a very big front
+door; a rumbling, a whizzing, an unpleasant smell, a hideous
+smell, a growing horrible, hateful choking smell, a deadly,
+griping, poisonous stench, with roaring that drowned poor Kitty's
+yowls, and just as it neared the point where endurance ceased,
+there was relief. She heard clicks and clacks. There was light;
+there was air. Then a man's voice called, "All out for 125th
+Street," though of course to Kitty it was a mere human bellow.
+The roaring almost ceased--did cease. Later the rackety-bang was
+renewed with plenty of sounds and shakes, though not the
+poisonous gas; a long, hollow, booming roar with a pleasant dock
+smell was quickly passed, and then there was a succession of
+jolts, roars, jars, stops, clicks, clacks, smells, jumps, shakes,
+more smells, more shakes,--big shakes, little shakes,--gases,
+smokes, screeches, door-bells, tremblings, roars, thunders, and
+some new smells, raps, taps, heavings, rumblings, and more
+smells, but all without any of the feel that the direction is
+changed. When at last it stopped, the sun came twinkling through
+the basket-lid. The Royal Cat was lifted into a Rumble-shaker of
+the old familiar style, and, swerving aside from their past
+course, very soon the noises of its wheels were grittings and
+rattlings; a new and horrible sound was added--the barking of
+Dogs, big and little and dreadfully close. The basket was lifted,
+and Slum Kitty had reached her country home.
+
+Every one was officiously kind. They wanted to please the Royal
+Cat, but somehow none of them did, except, possibly, the big, fat
+cook that Kitty discovered on wandering into the kitchen. This
+unctuous person smelt more like a slum than anything she had met
+for months, and the Royal Analostan was proportionately
+attracted. The cook, when she learned that fears were entertained
+about the Cat staying, said: "Shure, she'd 'tind to thot; wanst a
+Cat licks her futs, shure she's at home." So she deftly caught
+the unapproachable royalty in her apron, and committed the
+horrible sacrilege of greasing the soles of her feet with
+pot-grease. Of course Kitty resented it--she resented everything
+in the place; but on being set down she began to dress her paws
+and found evident satisfaction in that grease. She licked all
+four feet for an hour, and the cook triumphantly announced that
+now "shure she'd be apt to shtay." And stay she did, but she
+showed a most surprising and disgusting preference for the
+kitchen, the cook, and the garbage-pail.
+
+The family, though distressed by these distinguished
+peculiarities, were glad to see the Royal Analostan more
+contented and approachable. They gave her more liberty after a
+week or two. They guarded her from every menace. The Dogs were
+taught to respect her. No man or boy about the place would have
+dreamed of throwing a stone at the famous pedigreed Cat. She had
+all the food she wanted, but still she was not happy. She was
+hankering for many things, she scarcely knew what. She had
+everything--yes, but she wanted something else. Plenty to eat and
+drink--yes, but milk does not taste the same when you can go and
+drink all you want from a saucer; it has to be stolen out of a
+tin pail when you are belly-pinched with hunger and thirst, or it
+does not have the tang--it isn't milk.
+
+Yes, there was a junk-yard back of the house and beside it and
+around it too, a big one, but it was everywhere poisoned and
+polluted with roses. The very Horses and Dogs had the wrong
+smells; the whole country round was a repellent desert of
+lifeless, disgusting gardens and hay-fields, without a single
+tenement or smoke-stack in sight. How she did hate it all! There
+was only one sweet-smelling shrub in the whole horrible place,
+and that was in a neglected corner. She did enjoy nipping that
+and rolling in the leaves; it was a bright spot in the grounds;
+but the only one, for she had not found a rotten fish-head nor
+seen a genuine garbage-can since she came, and altogether it was
+the most unlovely, unattractive, unsmellable spot she had ever
+known. She would surely have gone that first night had she had
+the liberty. The liberty was weeks in coming, and, meanwhile, her
+affinity with the cook had developed as a bond to keep her; but
+one day after a summer of discontent a succession of things
+happened to stir anew the slum instinct of the royal prisoner.
+
+A great bundle of stuff from the docks had reached the country
+mansion. What it contained was of little moment, but it was rich
+with a score of the most piquant and winsome of dock and slum
+smells. The chords of memory surely dwell in the nose, and
+Pussy's past was conjured up with dangerous force. Next day the
+cook 'left' through some trouble over this very bundle. It was
+the cutting of cables, and that evening the youngest boy of the
+house, a horrid little American with no proper appreciation of
+royalty, was tying a tin to the blue-blooded one's tail,
+doubtless in furtherance of some altruistic project, when Pussy
+resented the liberty with a paw that wore five big fish-hooks for
+the occasion. The howl of downtrodden America roused America's
+mother. The deft and womanly blow that she aimed with her book
+was miraculously avoided, and Pussy took flight, up-stairs, of
+course. A hunted Rat runs down-stairs, a hunted Dog goes on the
+level, a hunted Cat runs up. She hid in the garret, baffled
+discovery, and waited till night came. Then, gliding down-stairs,
+she tried each screen-door in turn, till she found one unlatched,
+and escaped into the black August night. Pitch-black to man's
+eyes, it was simply gray to her, and she glided through the
+disgusting shrubbery and flower-beds, took a final nip at that
+one little bush that had been an attractive spot in the garden,
+and boldly took her back track of the spring.
+
+How could she take a back track that she never saw? There is in
+all animals some sense of direction. It is very low in man and
+very high in Horses, but Cats have a large gift, and this
+mysterious guide took her westward, not clearly and definitely,
+but with a general impulse that was made definite simply because
+the road was easy to travel. In an hour she had covered two miles
+and reached the Hudson River. Her nose had told her many times
+that the course was true. Smell after smell came back, just as a
+man after walking a mile in a strange street may not recall a
+single feature, but will remember, on seeing it again, "Why, yes,
+I saw that before." So Kitty's main guide was the sense of
+direction, but it was her nose that kept reassuring her, "Yes,
+now you are right--we passed this place last spring."
+
+At the river was the railroad. She could not go on the water; she
+must go north or south. This was a case where her sense of
+direction was clear; it said, "Go south," and Kitty trotted down
+the foot-path between the iron rails and the fence.
+
+
+LIFE III
+
+IX
+
+Cats can go very fast up a tree or over a wall, but when it comes
+to the long steady trot that reels off mile after mile, hour
+after hour, it is not the   cat-hop, but the dog-trot, that
+counts. Although the travelling was good and the path direct, an
+hour had gone before two more miles were put between her and the
+Hades of roses. She was tired and a little foot-sore. She was
+thinking of rest when a Dog came running to the fence near by,
+and broke out into such a horrible barking close to her ear that
+Pussy leaped in terror. She ran as hard as she could down the
+path, at the same time watching to see if the Dog should succeed
+in passing the fence. No, not yet! but he ran close by it,
+growling horribly, while Pussy skipped along on the safe side.
+The barking of the Dog grew into a low rumble--a louder rumble
+and roaring--a terrifying thunder. A light shone. Kitty glanced
+back to see, not the Dog, but a huge Black Thing with a blazing
+red eye coming on, yowling and spitting like a yard full of Cats.
+She put forth all her powers to run, made such time as she had
+never made before, but dared not leap the fence. She was running
+like a Dog, was flying, but all in vain; the monstrous pursuer
+overtook her, but missed her in the darkness, and hurried past to
+be lost in the night, while Kitty crouched gasping for breath,
+half a mile nearer home since that Dog began to bark.
+
+This was her first encounter with the strange monster, strange to
+her eyes only; her nose seemed to know him and told her this was
+another landmark on the home trail. But Pussy lost much of her
+fear of his kind. She learned that they were very stupid and
+could not find her if she slipped quietly under a fence and lay
+still. Before morning she had encountered several of them, but
+escaped unharmed from all.
+
+About sunrise she reached a nice little slum on her home trail,
+and was lucky enough to find several unsterilized eatables in an
+ash-heap. She spent the day around a stable where were two Dogs
+and a number of small boys, that between them came near ending
+her career. It was so very like home; but she had no idea of
+staying there. She was driven by the old craving, and next
+evening set out as before. She had seen the one-eyed
+Thunder-rollers all day going by, and was getting used to them,
+so travelled steadily all that night. The next day was spent in a
+barn where she caught a Mouse, and the next night was like the
+last, except that a Dog she encountered drove her backward on her
+trail for a long way. Several times she was misled by angling
+roads, and wandered far astray, but in time she wandered back
+again to her general southward course. The days were passed in
+skulking under barns and hiding from Dogs and small boys, and the
+nights in limping along the track, for she was getting foot-sore;
+but on she went, mile after mile, southward, ever
+southward--Dogs, boys, Roarers, hunger--Dogs, boys, Roarers,
+hunger--yet on and onward still she went, and her nose from time
+to time cheered her by confidently reporting, "There surely is a
+smell we passed last spring."
+
+
+X
+
+So a week went by, and Pussy, dirty, ribbon-less, foot-sore, and
+weary, arrived at the Harlem Bridge. Though it was enveloped in
+delicious smells, she did not like the look of that bridge. For
+half the night she wandered up and down the shore without
+discovering any other means of going south, excepting some other
+bridges, or anything of interest except that here the men were as
+dangerous as the boys. Somehow she had to come back to it; not
+only its smells were familiar, but from time to time, when a
+One-eye ran over it, there was that peculiar rumbling roar that
+was a sensation in the springtime trip. The calm of the late
+night was abroad when she leaped to the timber stringer and
+glided out over the water. She had got less than a third of the
+way across when a thundering One-eye came roaring at her from the
+opposite end. She was much frightened, but knowing their
+stupidity and blindness, she dropped to a low side beam and there
+crouched in hiding. Of course the stupid Monster missed her and
+passed on, and all would have been well, but it turned back, or
+another just like it came suddenly spitting behind her. Pussy
+leaped to the long track and made for the home shore. She might
+have got there had not a third of the Red-eyed Terrors come
+screeching at her from that side. She was running her hardest,
+but was caught between two foes. There was nothing for it but a
+desperate leap from the timbers into-she didn't know what. Down,
+down, down-plop, splash, plunge into the deep water, not cold,
+for it was August, but oh, so horrible! She spluttered and
+coughed when she came to the top, glanced around to see if the
+Monsters were swimming after her, and struck out for shore. She
+had never learned to swim, and yet she swam, for the simple
+reason that a Cat's position and actions in swimming are the same
+as her position and actions in walking. She had fallen into a
+place she did not like; naturally she tried to walk out, and the
+result was that she swam ashore. Which shore? The home-love never
+fails: the south side was the only shore for her, the one nearest
+home. She scrambled out all dripping wet, up the muddy bank and
+through coal-piles and dust-heaps, looking as black, dirty, and
+unroyal as it was possible for a Cat to look.
+
+Once the shock was over, the Royal-pedigreed Slummer began to
+feel better for the plunge. A genial glow without from the bath,
+a genial sense of triumph within, for had she not outwitted three
+of the big Terrors?
+
+Her nose, her memory, and her instinct of direction inclined her
+to get on the track again; but the place was infested with those
+Thunder-rollers, and prudence led her to turn aside and follow
+the river-bank with its musky home-reminders; and thus she was
+spared the unspeakable horrors of the tunnel.
+
+She was over three days learning the manifold dangers and
+complexities of the East River docks. Once she got by mistake on
+a ferryboat and was carried over to Long Island; but she took an
+early boat back. At length on the third night she reached
+familiar ground, the place she had passed the night of her first
+escape. From that her course was sure and rapid. She knew just
+where she was going and how to get there. She knew even the more
+prominent features in the Dog-scape now. She went faster, felt
+happier. In a little while surely she would be curled up in her
+native Orient--the old junk-yard. Another turn, and the block was
+in sight.
+
+But--what! It was gone! Kitty couldn't believe her eyes; but she
+must, for the sun was not yet up. There where once had stood or
+leaned or slouched or straggled the houses of the block, was a
+great broken wilderness of stone, lumber, and holes in the
+ground.
+
+Kitty walked all around it. She knew by the bearings and by the
+local color of the pavement that she was in her home, that there
+had lived the bird-man, and there was the old junk-yard; but all
+were gone, completely gone, taking their familiar odors with
+them, and Pussy turned sick at heart in the utter hopelessness of
+the case. Her place-love was her master-mood. She had given up
+all to come to a home that no longer existed, and for once her
+sturdy little heart was cast down. She wandered over the silent
+heaps of rubbish and found neither consolation nor eatables. The
+ruin had taken in several of the blocks and reached back from the
+water. It was not a fire; Kitty had seen one of those things.
+This looked more like the work of a flock of the Red-eyed
+Monsters. Pussy knew nothing of the great bridge that was to rise
+from this very spot.
+
+When the sun came up she sought for cover. An adjoining block
+still stood with little change, and the Royal Analostan retired
+to that. She knew some of its trails; but once there, was
+unpleasantly surprised to find the place swarming with Cats that,
+like herself, were driven from their old grounds, and when the
+garbage-cans came out there were several Slummers at each. It
+meant a famine in the land, and Pussy, after standing it a few
+days, was reduced to seeking her other home on Fifth Avenue. She
+got there to find it shut up and deserted. She waited about for a
+day; had an unpleasant experience with a big man in a blue coat,
+and next night returned to the crowded slum.
+
+September and October wore away. Many of the Cats died of
+starvation or were too weak to escape their natural enemies. But
+Kitty, young and strong, still lived.
+
+Great changes had come over the ruined blocks. Though silent on
+the night when she first saw them, they were crowded with noisy
+workmen all day. A tall building, well advanced on her arrival,
+was completed at the end of October, and Slum Kitty, driven by
+hunger, went sneaking up to a pail that a negro had set outside.
+The pail, unfortunately, was not for garbage; it was a new thing
+in that region: a scrubbing-pail. A sad disappointment, but it
+had a sense of comfort--there were traces of a familiar touch on
+the handle. While she was studying it, the negro elevator-boy
+came out again. In spite of his blue clothes, his odorous person
+confirmed the good impression of the handle. Kitty had retreated
+across the street. He gazed at her.
+
+"Sho ef dat don't look like de Royal Ankalostan! Hyar, Pussy,
+Pussy,    Pu-s-s-s-s-y! Co-o-o-o-m-e, Pu-u-s-s-sy, hyar! I'spec's
+she's sho hungry."
+
+Hungry! She hadn't  had a real meal for months. The negro went
+into the building and reappeared with a portion of his own lunch.
+
+"Hyar, Pussy, Puss, Puss, Puss!" It seemed very good, but Pussy
+had her doubts of the man. At length he laid the meat on the
+pavement, and went back to the door. Slum Kitty came forward very
+warily; sniffed at the meat, seized it, and fled like a little
+Tigress to eat her prize in peace.
+
+
+LIFE IV
+
+XI
+
+This was the beginning of a new era. Pussy came to the door of
+the building now whenever pinched by hunger, and the good feeling
+for the negro grew. She had never understood that man before. He
+had always seemed hostile. Now he was her friend, the only one
+she had.
+
+One week she had a streak of luck. Seven good meals on seven
+successive days; and right on the top of the last meal she found
+a juicy dead Rat, the genuine thing, a perfect windfall. She had
+never killed a full-grown Rat in all her lives, but seized the
+prize and ran off to hide it for future use. She was crossing the
+street in front of the new building when an old enemy appeared,  
+--the Wharf Dog,--and Kitty retreated, naturally enough, to the
+door where she had a friend. Just as she neared it, he opened the
+door for a well-dressed man to come out, and both saw the Cat
+with her prize.
+
+"Hello! Look at that for a Cat!"
+ 
+"Yes, sah," answered the negro. "Dat's ma Cat, sah; she's a
+terror on Rats, sah! hez 'em about cleaned up, sah; dat's why
+she's so thin."
+
+"Well, don't let her starve," said the man with the air of the
+landlord. "Can't you feed her?
+
+"De liver meat-man comes reg'lar, sah; quatah dollar a week,
+sah," said the negro, fully realizing that he was entitled to the
+extra fifteen cents for "the idea."
+
+"That's all right. I'll stand it."
+
+
+XII
+
+"M-e-a-t! M-e-a-t!" is heard the magnetic, cat-conjuring cry of
+the old liver-man, as his barrow is pushed up the glorified
+Scrimper's Alley, and Cats come crowding, as of yore, to receive
+their due.
+
+There are Cats black, white, yellow, and gray to be remembered,
+and, above all, there are owners to be remembered. As the barrow
+rounds the corner near the new building it makes a newly
+scheduled stop.
+
+"Hyar, you, get out o' the road, you common trash," cries the
+liver-man, and he waves his wand to make way for the little gray
+Cat with blue eyes and white nose. She receives an unusually
+large portion, for Sam is wisely dividing the returns evenly; and
+Slum Kitty retreats with her 'daily' into shelter of the great
+building, to which she is regularly attached. She has entered
+into her fourth life with prospects of happiness never before
+dreamed of. Everything was against her at first; now everything
+seems to be coming her way. It is very doubtful that her mind was
+broadened by travel, but she knew what she wanted and she got it.
+She has achieved her long-time great ambition by catching, not a
+Sparrow, but two of them, while they were clinched in mortal
+combat in the gutter.
+
+There is no reason to suppose that she ever caught another Rat;
+but the negro secures a dead one when he can, for purposes of
+exhibition, lest her pension be imperilled. The dead one is left
+in the hall till the proprietor comes; then it is apologetically
+swept away. "Well, drat dat Cat, sah; dat Royal Ankalostan blood,
+sah, is terrors on Rats."
+
+She has had several broods since. The negro thinks the Yellow Tom
+is the father of some of them, and no doubt the negro is right.
+
+He has sold her a number of times with a perfectly clear
+conscience, knowing quite well that it is only a question of a
+few days before the Royal Analostan comes back again. Doubtless
+he is saving the money for some honorable ambition. She has
+learned to tolerate the elevator, and even to ride up and down on
+it. The negro stoutly maintains that once, when she heard the
+meat-man, while she was on the top floor, she managed to press
+the button that called the elevator to take her down.
+
+She is sleek and beautiful again. She is not only one of the four
+hundred that form the inner circle about the liver-barrow, but
+she is recognized as the star pensioner among them. The liver-man
+is positively respectful. Not even the cream-and-chicken fed Cat
+of the pawn-broker's wife has such a position as the Royal
+Analostan. But in spite of her prosperity, her social position,
+her royal name and fake pedigree, the greatest pleasure of her
+life is to slip out and go a-slumming in the gloaming, for now,
+as in her previous lives, she is at heart, and likely to be,
+nothing but a dirty little Slum Cat.
+
+
+
+ARNAUX
+
+
+THE CHRONICLE OF A HOMING PIGEON
+
+We passed through the side door of a big stable on West
+Nineteenth Street. The mild smell of the well-kept stalls was
+lost in the sweet odor of hay, as we mounted a ladder and entered
+the long garret. The south end was walled off, and the familiar
+"Coo-oo, cooooo-oo, ruk-at-a-coo," varied with the "whirr, whirr,
+whirr" of wings, informed us that we were at the  pigeon-loft.
+
+This was the home of a famous lot of birds, and to-day there was
+to be a race among fifty of the youngsters. The owner of the loft
+had asked me, as an unprejudiced outsider, to be judge in the
+contest.
+
+It was a training race of the young birds. They had been taken
+out for short distances with their parents once or twice, then
+set free to return to the loft. Now for the first time they were
+to be flown without the old ones. The point of start, Elizabeth,
+N. J., was a long journey for their first unaided attempt. "But
+then," the trainer remarked, "that's how we weed out the fools;
+only the best birds make it, and that's all we want back."
+
+There was another side to the flight. It was to be a race among
+those that did return. Each of the men about the loft as well as
+several neighboring fanciers were interested in one or other of
+the Homers. They made up a purse for the winner, and on me was to
+devolve the important duty of deciding which should take the
+stakes. Not the first bird back, but the first bird into the
+loft, was to win, for one that returns to his neighborhood
+merely, without immediately reporting at home, is of little use
+as a letter-carrier.
+
+The Homing Pigeon used to be called the Carrier because it
+carried messages, but here I found that name restricted to the
+show bird, the creature with absurdly developed wattles; the one
+that carries the messages is now called the Homer, or Homing
+Pigeon--the bird that always comes home. These Pigeons are not of
+any special color, nor have they any of the fancy adornments of
+the kind that figure in Bird shows. They are not bred for style,
+but for speed and for their mental gifts. They must be true to
+their home, able to return to it without fail. The sense of
+direction is now believed to be located in the bony labyrinth of
+the ear. There is no creature with finer sense of locality and
+direction than a good Homer, and the only visible proofs of it
+are the great bulge on each side of the head over the ears, and
+the superb wings that complete his equipment to obey the noble
+impulse of home-love. Now the mental and physical equipments of
+the last lot of young birds were to be put to test.
+
+Although there were plenty of witnesses, I thought it best to
+close all but one of the pigeon-doors and stand ready to shut
+that behind the first arrival.
+
+I shall never forget the sensations of that day. I had been
+warned: "They start at 12; they should be here at 12:30; but look
+out, they come like a whirlwind. You hardly see them till they're
+in."
+
+We were ranged along the inside of the loft, each with an eye to
+a crack or a partly closed pigeon-door, anxiously scanning the
+southwestern horizon, when one shouted: "Look out--here they
+come!" Like a white cloud they burst into view, low skimming over
+the city roofs, around a great chimney pile, and in two seconds
+after first being seen they were back. The flash of white, the
+rush of pinions, were all so sudden, so short, that, though
+preparing, I was unprepared. I was at the only open door. A
+whistling arrow of blue shot in, lashed my face with its pinions,
+and passed. I had hardly time to drop the little door, as a yell
+burst from the men, "Arnaux! Arnaux! I told you he would. Oh,
+he's a darling; only three months old and a winner--he's a little
+darling!" and Arnaux's owner danced, more for joy in his bird
+than in the purse he had won.
+
+The men sat or kneeled and watched him in positive reverence as
+he gulped a quantity of water, then turned to the food-trough.
+
+"Look at that eye, those wings, and did you ever see such a
+breast? Oh, but    he's the real grit!" so his owner prattled to
+the silent ones whose birds had been defeated.
+
+That was the first of Arnaux's exploits. Best of fifty birds from
+a good loft, his future was bright with promise.
+
+He was invested with the silver anklet of the Sacred Order of the
+High Homer. It bore his number, 2590 C, a number which to-day
+means much to all men in the world of the Homing Pigeon.
+
+In that trial flight from Elizabeth only forty birds had
+returned. It is usually so. Some were weak and got left behind,
+some were foolish and strayed. By this simple process of flight
+selection the pigeon-owners keep improving their stock. Of the
+ten, five were seen no more, but five returned later that day,
+not all at once, but straggling in; the last of the loiterers was
+a big, lubberly Blue Pigeon. The man in the loft at the time
+called: "Here comes that old sap-headed Blue that Jakey was
+betting on. I didn't suppose he would come back, and I    didn't
+care, neither, for it's my belief he has a streak of Pouter."
+
+The Big Blue, also called "Corner-box" from the nest where he was
+hatched, had shown remarkable vigor from the first. Though all
+were about the same age, he had grown faster, was bigger, and
+incidentally handsomer, though the fanciers cared little for
+that. He seemed fully aware of his importance, and early showed a
+disposition to bully his smaller cousins. His owner prophesied
+great things of him, but Billy, the stable-man, had grave doubts
+over the length of his neck, the bigness of his crop, his
+carriage, and his over-size. "A bird can't make time pushing a
+bag of wind ahead of him. Them long legs is dead weight, an' a
+neck like that ain't got no gimp in it," Billy would grunt
+disparagingly as he cleaned out the loft of a morning.
+
+
+II
+
+The training of the birds went on after this at regular times.
+The distance from home, of the start, was "jumped" twenty-five or
+thirty miles farther each day, and its direction changed till the
+Homers knew the country for one hundred and fifty miles around
+New York. The original fifty birds dwindled to twenty, for the
+rigid process weeds out not only the weak and ill-equipped, but
+those also who may have temporary ailments or accidents, or who
+may make the mistake of over-eating at the start. There were many
+fine birds in that flight, broad-breasted, bright-eyed,
+long-winged creatures, formed for swiftest flight, for high
+unconscious emprise, for these were destined to be messengers in
+the service of man in times of serious need. Their colors were
+mostly white, blue, or brown. They wore no uniform, but each and
+all of the chosen remnant had the brilliant eye and the bulging
+ears of the finest Homer blood; and, best and choicest of all,
+nearly always first among them was little Arnaux. He had not much
+to distinguish him when at rest, for now all of the band had the
+silver anklet, but in the air it was that Arnaux showed his make,
+and when the opening of the hamper gave the order "Start," it was
+Arnaux that first got under way, soared to the height deemed
+needful to exclude all local influence, divined the road to home,
+and took it, pausing not for food, drink, or company.
+
+Notwithstanding Billy's evil forecasts, the Big Blue of the
+Corner-box was one of the chosen twenty. Often he was late in
+returning; he never was first, and sometimes when he came back
+hours behind the rest, it was plain that he was neither hungry
+nor thirsty, sure signs that he was a loiterer by the way. Still
+he had come back; and now he wore on his ankle, like the rest,
+the sacred badge and a number from the roll of possible fame.
+Billy despised him, set him in poor contrast with Arnaux, but his
+owner would reply: "Give him a chance;'soon ripe, soon rotten,'
+an' I always notice the best bird is the slowest to show up at
+first."
+
+Before a year little Arnaux had made a record. The hardest of all
+work is over the sea, for there is no chance of aid from
+landmarks; and the hardest of all times at sea is in fog, for
+then even the sun is blotted out and there is nothing whatever
+for guidance. With memory, sight, and hearing unavailable, the
+Homer has one thing left, and herein is his great strength, the
+inborn sense of direction. There is only one thing that can
+destroy this, and that is fear, hence the necessity of a stout
+little heart between those noble wings.
+
+Arnaux, with two of his order, in course of training, had been
+shipped on an ocean steamer bound for Europe. They were to be
+released out of sight of land, but a heavy fog set in and forbade
+the start. The steamer took them onward, the intention being to
+send them back with the next vessel. When ten hours out the
+engine broke down, the fog settled dense over the sea, and the
+vessel was adrift and helpless as a log. She could only whistle
+for assistance, and so far as results were concerned, the captain
+might as well have wigwagged. Then the Pigeons were thought of.
+Starback, 2592 C, was first selected. A message for help was
+written on waterproof paper, rolled up, and lashed to his
+tail-feathers on the under side. He was thrown into the air and
+disappeared. Half an hour later, a second, the Big Blue
+Corner-box, 2600 C, was freighted with a letter. He flew up, but
+almost immediately returned and alighted on the rigging. He was a
+picture of pigeon fear; nothing could induce him to leave the
+ship. He was so terrorized that he was easily caught and
+ignominiously thrust back into the coop.
+
+Now the third was brought out, a small, chunky bird. The shipmen
+did not know him, but they noted down from his anklet his name
+and number, Arnaux, 2590 C. It meant nothing to them. But the
+officer who held him noted that his heart did not beat so wildly
+as that of the last bird. The message was taken from the Big
+Blue. It ran:
+
+10 A.M., Tuesday.
+We broke our shaft two hundred and ten miles out from New York;
+we are drifting helplessly in the fog. Send out a tug as soon as
+possible. We are whistling one long, followed at once by one
+short, every sixty seconds.
+
+(Signed)  THE CAPTAIN.
+
+This was rolled up, wrapped in waterproof film, addressed to the
+Steamship Company, and lashed to the under side of Arnaux's
+middle tail-feather.
+
+When thrown into the air, he circled round the ship, then round
+again higher, then again higher in a wider circle, and he was
+lost to view; and still higher till quite out of sight and
+feeling of the ship. Shut out from the use of all his senses now
+but one, he gave himself up to that. Strong in him it was, and
+untrammelled of that murderous despot Fear. True as a needle to
+the Pole went Arnaux now, no hesitation, no doubts; within one
+minute of leaving the coop he was speeding straight as a ray of
+light for the loft where he was born, the only place on earth
+where he could be made content.
+
+That afternoon Billy was on duty when the whistle of fast wings
+was heard; a blue Flyer flashed into the loft and made for the
+water-trough. He was gulping down mouthful after mouthful, when
+Billy gasped: "Why, Arnaux, it's you, you beauty." Then, with the
+quick habit of the pigeon-man, he pulled out his watch and marked
+the time, 2:40 P.M, A glance showed the tie string on the tail.
+He shut the door and dropped the catching-net quickly over
+Arnaux's head. A moment later he had the roll in his hand; in two
+minutes he was speeding to the office of the Company, for there
+was a fat tip in view. There he learned that Arnaux had made the
+two hundred and ten miles in fog, over sea, in four hours and
+forty minutes, and within one hour the needful help had set out
+for the unfortunate steamer.
+
+Two hundred and ten miles in fog over sea in four hours and forty
+minutes! This was a noble record. It was duly inscribed in the
+rolls of the Homing Club. Arnaux was held while the secretary,
+with rubber stamp and indelible ink, printed on a snowy primary
+of his right wing the record of the feat, with the date and
+reference number.
+
+Starback, the second bird, never was heard of again. No doubt he
+perished at sea.
+
+Blue Corner-box came back on the tug.
+
+
+III
+
+That was Arnaux's first public record; but others came fast, and
+several curious scenes were enacted in that old pigeon-loft with
+Arnaux as the central figure. One day a carriage drove up to the
+stable; a white-haired gentleman got out, climbed the dusty
+stairs, and sat all morning in the loft with Billy. Peering from
+his gold-rimmed glasses, first at a lot of papers, next across
+the roofs of the city, waiting, watching, for what? News from a
+little place not forty miles away--news of greatest weight to
+him, tidings that would make or break him, tidings that must
+reach him before it could be telegraphed: a telegram meant at
+least an hour's delay at each end. What was faster than that for
+forty miles? In those days there was but one thing--a high-class
+Homer. Money would count for nothing if he could win. The best,
+the very best at any price he must have, and Arnaux, with seven
+indelible records on his pinions, was the chosen messenger. An
+hour went by, another, and a third was begun, when with whistle
+of wings, the blue meteor flashed into the loft. Billy slammed
+the door and caught him. Deftly he snipped the threads and handed
+the roll to the banker. The old man turned deathly pale, fumbled
+it open, then his color came back. "Thank God!" he gasped, and
+then went speeding to his Board meeting, master of the situation.
+Little Arnaux had saved him.
+
+The banker wanted to buy the Homer, feeling in a vague way that
+he ought to honor and cherish him; but Billy was very clear about
+it. "What's the good? You can't buy a Homer's heart. You could
+keep him a prisoner, that's all; but nothing on earth could make
+him forsake the old loft where he was hatched." So Arnaux stayed
+at 2ll West Nineteenth Street. But the banker did not forget.
+
+There is in our country a class of miscreants who think a flying
+Pigeon is fair game, because it is probably far from home, or
+they shoot him because it is hard to fix the crime. Many a noble
+Homer, speeding with a life or death message, has been shot down
+by one of these wretches and remorselessly made into a pot-pie.
+Arnaux's brother Arnolf, with three fine records on his wings,
+was thus murdered in the act of bearing a hasty summons for the
+doctor. As he fell dying at the gunner's feet, his superb wings
+spread out displayed his list of victories. The silver badge on
+his leg was there, and the gunner was smitten with remorse. He
+had the message sent on; he returned the dead bird to the Homing
+Club, saying that he "found it." The owner came to see him; the
+gunner broke down under cross-examination, and was forced to
+admit that he himself had shot the Homer, but did so in behalf of
+a poor sick neighbor who craved a pigeon-pie.
+
+There were tears in the wrath of the pigeon-man. "My bird, my
+beautiful Arnolf, twenty times has he brought vital messages,
+three times has he made records, twice has he saved human lives,
+and you'd shoot him for a pot-pie. I could punish you under the
+law, but I have no heart for such a poor revenge. I only ask you
+this, if ever again you have a sick neighbor who wants a
+pigeon-pie, come, we'll freely supply him with pie-breed squabs;
+but if you have a trace of manhood about you, you will never,
+never again shoot, or allow others to shoot, our noble and
+priceless messengers."
+
+This took place while the banker was in touch with the loft,
+while his heart was warm for the Pigeons. He was a man of
+influence, and the Pigeon Protective legislation at Albany was
+the immediate fruit of Arnaux's exploit.
+
+
+IV
+
+Billy had never liked the Corner-box Blue (2600 C);
+notwithstanding the fact that he still continued in the ranks of
+the Silver Badge, Billy believed he was poor stuff. The steamer
+incident seemed to prove him coward; he certainly was a bully.
+
+One morning when Billy went in there was a row, two Pigeons, a
+large and a small, alternately clinching and sparring all over
+the floor, feathers flying, dust and commotion everywhere. As
+soon as they were separated Billy found that the little one was
+Arnaux and the big one was the Corner-box Blue. Arnaux had made a
+good fight, but was overmatched, for the Big Blue was half as
+heavy again.
+
+Soon it was very clear what they had fought over--a pretty little
+lady Pigeon of the bluest Homing blood. The Big Blue cock had
+kept up a state of bad feeling by his bullying, but it was the
+Little Lady that had made them close in mortal combat. Billy had
+no authority to wring the Big Blue's neck, but he interfered as
+far as he could in behalf of his favorite Arnaux.
+
+Pigeon marriages are arranged somewhat like those of mankind.
+Propinquity is the first thing: force the pair together for a
+time and let nature take its course. So Billy locked Arnaux and
+the Little Lady up together in a separate apartment for two
+weeks, and to make doubly sure he locked Big Blue up with an
+Available Lady in another apartment for two weeks.
+
+Things turned out just as was expected. The Little Lady
+surrendered to Arnaux and the Available Lady to the Big Blue. Two
+nests were begun and everything shaped for a "lived happily ever
+after." But the Big Blue was very big and handsome. He could blow
+out his crop and strut in the sun and make rainbows
+all round his neck in a way that might turn the heart of the
+staidest Homerine.
+
+Arnaux, though sturdily built, was small and except for his
+brilliant eyes, not especially good-looking. Moreover, he was
+often away on important business, and the Big Blue had nothing to
+do but stay around the loft and display his unlettered wings.
+
+It is the custom of moralists to point to the lower animals, and
+especially to the Pigeon, for examples of love and constancy, and
+properly so, but, alas there are exceptions. Vice is not by any
+means limited to the human race.
+
+Arnaux's wife had been deeply impressed with the Big Blue, at the
+outset, and at length while her spouse was absent the dreadful
+thing took place.
+
+Arnaux returned from Boston one day to find that the Big Blue,
+while he retained his own Available Lady in the corner-box, had
+also annexed the box and wife that belonged to himself, and a
+desperate battle followed. The only spectators were the two
+wives, but they maintained an indifferent aloofness. Arnaux
+fought with his famous wings, but they were none the better
+weapons because they now bore twenty records. His beak and feet
+were small, as became his blood, and his stout little heart could
+not make up for his lack of weight. The battle went against him.
+His wife sat unconcernedly in the nest, as though it were not her
+affair, and Arnaux might have been killed but for the timely
+arrival of Billy. He was angry enough to wring the Blue bird's
+neck, but the bully escaped from the loft in time. Billy took
+tender care of Arnaux for a few days. At the end of a week he was
+well again, and in ten days he was once more on the road.
+Meanwhile he had evidently forgiven his faithless wife, for,
+without any apparent feeling, he took up his nesting as before.
+That month he made two new records. He brought a message ten
+miles in eight minutes, and he came from Boston in four hours.
+Every moment of the way he had been impelled by the
+master-passion of home-love. But it was a poor home-coming if his
+wife figured at all in his thoughts, for he found her again
+flirting with the Big Blue cock. Tired as he was, the duel was
+renewed, and again would have been to a finish but for Billy's
+interference. He separated the fighters, then shut the Blue cock
+up in a coop, determined to get rid of him in some way. Meanwhile
+the "Any Age Sweepstakes" handicap from Chicago to New York was
+on, a race of nine hundred miles. Arnaux had been entered six
+months before. His forfeit-money was up, and notwithstanding his
+domestic complications, his friends felt that he must not fail to
+appear.
+
+The birds were sent by train to Chicago, to be liberated at
+intervals there according to their handicap, and last of the
+start was Arnaux. They lost no time, and outside of Chicago
+several of these prime Flyers joined by common impulse into a
+racing flock that went through air on the same invisible track. A
+Homer may make a straight line when following his general sense
+of direction, but when following a familiar back track he sticks
+to the well-remembered landmarks. Most of the birds had been
+trained by way of Columbus and Buffalo. Arnaux knew the Columbus
+route, but also he knew that by Detroit, and after leaving Lake
+Michigan, he took the straight line for Detroit. Thus he caught
+up on his handicap and had the advantage of many miles. Detroit,
+Buffalo, Rochester, with their familiar towers and chimneys,
+faded behind him, and Syracuse was near at hand. It was now late
+afternoon; six hundred miles in twelve hours he had flown and was
+undoubtedly leading the race; but the usual thirst of the Flyer
+had attacked him. Skimming over the city roofs, he saw a loft of
+Pigeons, and descending from his high course in two or three
+great circles, he followed the ingoing Birds to the loft and
+drank greedily at the water-trough, as he had often done before,
+and as every pigeon-lover hospitably expects the messengers to
+do. The owner of the loft was there and noted the strange Bird.
+He stepped quietly to where he could inspect him. One of his own
+Pigeons made momentary opposition to the stranger, and Arnaux,
+sparring sidewise with an open wing in Pigeon style, displayed
+the long array of printed records. The man was a fancier. His
+interest was aroused; he pulled the string that shut the flying
+door, and in a few minutes Arnaux was his prisoner.
+
+The robber spread the much-inscribed wings, read record after
+record, and glancing at the silver badge--it should have been
+gold--he read his name--Arnaux; then exclaimed: "Arnaux! Arnaux!
+Oh, I've heard of you, you little beauty, and it's glad I am to
+trap you." He snipped the message from his tail, unrolled it, and
+read: "Arnaux left Chicago this morning at 4 A.M., scratched in
+the Any Age Sweepstakes for New York."
+
+"Six hundred miles in twelve hours! By the powers, that's a
+record-breaker." And the pigeon-stealer gently, almost
+reverently, put the fluttering Bird safely into a padded cage.
+"Well," he added, "I know it's no use trying to make you stay,
+but I can breed from you and have some of your strain."
+
+So Arnaux was shut up in a large and comfortable loft with
+several other prisoners. The man, though a thief, was a lover of
+Homers; he gave his captive everything that could insure his
+comfort and safety. For three months he left him in that loft. At
+first Arnaux did nothing all day but walk up and down the wire
+screen, looking high and low for means of escape; but in the
+fourth month he seemed to have abandoned the attempt, and the
+watchful jailer began the second part of his scheme. He
+introduced a coy young lady Pigeon. But it did not seem to
+answer; Arnaux was not even civil to her. After a time the jailer
+removed the female, and Arnaux was left in solitary confinement
+for a month. Now a different female was brought in, but with no
+better luck; and thus it went on--for a year different charmers
+were introduced. Arnaux either violently repelled them or was
+scornfully indifferent, and at times the old longing to get away,
+came back with twofold power, so that he darted up and down the
+wire front or dashed with all his force against it.
+
+When the storied feathers of his wings began their annual moult,
+his jailer saved them as precious things, and as each new feather
+came he reproduced on it the record of its owner's fame.
+
+Two years went slowly by, and the jailer had put Arnaux in a new
+loft and brought in another lady Pigeon. By chance she closely
+resembled the faithless one at home. Arnaux actually heeded the
+newcomer. Once the jailer thought he saw his famous prisoner
+paying some slight attention to the charmer, and, yes, he surely
+saw her preparing a nest. Then assuming that they had reached a
+full understanding, the jailer, for the first time, opened the
+outlet, and Arnaux was free. Did he hang around in doubt? Did he
+hesitate? No, not for one moment. As soon as the drop of the door
+left open the way, he shot through, he spread those wonderful
+blazoned wings, and, with no second thought for the latest Circe,
+sprang from the hated prison loft--away and away.
+
+
+V
+
+We have no means of looking into the Pigeon's mind; we may go
+wrong in conjuring up for it deep thoughts of love and welcome
+home; but we are safe in this, we cannot too strongly paint, we
+cannot too highly praise and glorify that wonderful
+God-implanted, mankind-fostered home-love that glows unquenchably
+in this noble bird. Call it what you like, a mere instinct
+deliberately constructed by man for his selfish ends, explain it
+away if you will, dissect it, misname it, and it still is there,
+in overwhelming, imperishable master-power, as long as the brave
+little heart and wings can beat.
+
+Home, home, sweet home! Never had mankind a stronger love of home
+than Arnaux. The trials and sorrows of the old pigeon-loft were
+forgotten in that   all-dominating force of his nature. Not years
+of prison bars, not later loves, nor fear of death, could down
+its power; and Arnaux, had the gift of song been his, must surely
+have sung as sings a hero in his highest joy, when sprang he from
+the 'lighting board, up-circling free, soaring, drawn by the only
+impulse that those glorious wings would honor,--up, up, in
+widening, heightening circles of ashy blue in the blue, flashing
+those many-lettered wings of white, till they seemed like jets of
+fire--up and on, driven by that home-love, faithful to his only
+home and to his faithless mate; closing his eyes, they say;
+closing his ears, they tell; shutting his mind,--we all
+believe,--to nearer things, to two years of his life, to one half
+of his prime, but soaring in the blue, retiring, as a saint might
+do, into his inner self, giving himself up to that inmost guide.
+He was the captain of the ship, but the pilot, the chart and
+compass, all, were that deep-implanted instinct. One thousand
+feet above the trees the inscrutable whisper came, and Arnaux in
+arrowy swiftness now was pointing for the south-southeast. The
+little flashes of white fire on each side were lost in the low
+sky, and the reverent robber of Syracuse saw Arnaux nevermore.
+
+The fast express was steaming down the valley. It was far ahead,
+but Arnaux overtook and passed it, as the flying wild Duck passes
+the swimming Muskrat. High in the valleys he went, low over the
+hills of Chenango, where the pines were combing the breezes.
+
+Out from his oak-tree eyrie a Hawk came wheeling and sailing,
+silent, for he had marked the Flyer, and meant him for his prey.
+Arnaux turned neither right nor left, nor raised nor lowered his
+flight, nor lost a wing-beat. The Hawk was in waiting in the gap
+ahead, and Arnaux passed him, even as a Deer in his prime may
+pass by a Bear in his pathway. Home! home! was the only burning
+thought, the blinding impulse.
+
+Beat, beat, beat, those flashing pinions went with speed
+unslacked on the now familiar road. In an hour the Catskills were
+at hand. In two hours he was passing over them. Old friendly
+places, swiftly coming now, lent more force to his wings. Home!
+home! was the silent song that his heart was singing. Like the
+traveller dying of thirst, that sees the palm-trees far ahead,
+his brilliant eyes took in the distant smoke of Manhattan.
+
+Out from the crest of the Catskills there launched a Falcon.
+Swiftest of the race of rapine, proud of his strength, proud of
+his wings, he rejoiced in a worthy prey. Many and many a Pigeon
+had been borne to his nest, and riding the wind he came,
+swooping, reserving his strength, awaiting the proper time. Oh,
+how well he knew the very moment! Down, down like a flashing
+javelin; no wild Duck, no Hawk could elude him, for this was a
+Falcon. Turn back now, O Homer, and save yourself; go round the
+dangerous hills. Did he turn? Not a whit! for this was Arnaux.
+Home! home! home! was his only thought. To meet the danger, he
+merely added to his speed; and the Peregrine stooped; stooped at
+what?--a flashing of color, a twinkling of whiteness--and went
+back empty. While Arnaux cleft the air of the valley as a stone
+from a sling, to be lost--a white-winged bird--a spot with
+flashing halo--and, quickly, a speck in the offing. On down the
+dear valley of Hudson, the well-known highway; for two years he
+had not seen it! Now he dropped low as the noon breeze came north
+and ruffled the river below him. Home! home! home! and the towers
+of a city are coming in view! Home! home! past the great
+spider-bridge of Poughkeepsie, skimming, skirting the
+river-banks. Low now by the bank as the wind arose. Low, alas!
+too low!
+
+What fiend was it tempted a gunner in June to lurk on that hill
+by the margin? what devil directed his gaze to the twinkling of
+white that came from the blue to the northward? Oh, Arnaux,
+Arnaux, skimming low, forget not the gunner of old! Too low, too
+low you are clearing that hill. Too low--too late!  Flash--bang!
+and the death-hail has reached him; reached, maimed, but not
+downed him. Out of the flashing pinions broken feathers printed
+with records went fluttering earthward. The "naught" of his sea
+record was gone. Not two hundred and ten, but twenty-one miles it
+now read. Oh, shameful pillage! A dark stain appeared on his
+bosom, but Arnaux kept on. Home, home, homeward bound. The danger
+was past in an instant. Home, homeward he steered straight as
+before, but the wonderful speed was diminished; not a mile a
+minute now; and the wind made undue sounds in his tattered
+pinions. The stain in his breast told of broken force; but on,
+straight on, he flew. Home, home was in sight, and the pain in
+his breast was forgotten. The tall towers of the city were in
+clear view of his far-seeing eye as he skimmed by the high cliffs
+of Jersey. On, on--the pinion might flag, the eye might darken,
+but the home-love was stronger and stronger.
+
+Under the tall Palisades, to be screened from the wind, he
+passed, over the sparkling water, over the trees, under the
+Peregrines' eyrie, under the pirates' castle where the great grim
+Peregrines sat; peering like black-masked highwaymen they marked
+the on-coming Pigeon. Arnaux knew them of old. Many a message was
+lying undelivered in that nest, many a record-bearing plume had
+fluttered away from its fastness. But Arnaux had faced them
+before, and now he came as before--on, onward, swift, but not as
+he had been; the deadly gun had sapped his force, had lowered his
+speed. On, on; and the Peregrines, biding their time, went forth
+like two bow-bolts; strong and lightning-swift they went against
+one weak and wearied.
+
+Why tell of the race that followed? Why paint the despair of a
+brave little heart in sight of the home he had craved in vain? in
+a minute all was over. The Peregrines screeched in their triumph.
+Screeching and sailing, they swung to their eyrie, and the prey
+in their claws was the body, the last of the bright little
+Arnaux. There on the rocks the beaks and claws of the bandits
+were red with the life of the hero. Torn asunder were those
+matchless wings, and their records were scattered unnoticed. In
+sun and in storm they lay till the killers themselves were killed
+and their stronghold rifled. And none knew the fate of the
+peerless Bird till deep in the dust and rubbish of that
+pirate-nest the avenger found, among others of its kind, a silver
+ring, the sacred badge of the High Homer, and read upon it the
+pregnant inscription: "ARNAUX, 2590 C."
+
+
+
+BADLANDS BILLY
+The Wolf that Won
+
+I
+
+THE HOWL BY NIGHT
+
+Do you know the three calls of the hunting Wolf:--the long-drawn
+deep howl, the muster, that tells of game discovered but too
+strong for the finder to manage alone; and the higher ululation
+that ringing and swelling is the cry of the pack on a hot scent;
+and the sharp bark coupled with a short howl that, seeming least
+of all, is yet a gong of doom, for this is the cry "Close
+in"--this is the finish?
+
+We were riding the Badland Buttes, King and I, with a pack of
+various hunting Dogs stringing behind or trotting alongside. The
+sun had gone from the sky, and a blood-streak marked the spot
+where he died, away over Sentinel Butte. The hills were dim, the
+valleys dark, when from the nearest gloom there rolled a
+long-drawn cry that all men recognize instinctively--melodious,
+yet with a tone in it that sends a shudder up the spine, though
+now it has lost all menace for mankind. We listened for a moment.
+It was the Wolf-hunter who broke silence: "That's Badlands Billy;
+ain't it a voice? He's out for his beef to-night."
+
+
+II
+
+ANCIENT DAYS
+
+In pristine days the Buffalo herds were followed by bands of
+Wolves that preyed on the sick, the weak, and the wounded. When
+the Buffalo were exterminated the Wolves were hard put for
+support, but the Cattle came and solved the question for them by
+taking the Buffaloes' place. This caused the wolf-war. The
+ranchmen offered a bounty for each Wolf killed, and every cowboy
+out of work, was supplied with traps and poison for wolf-killing.
+The very expert made this their sole business and became known as
+wolvers. King Ryder was one of these. He was a quiet,
+gentlespoken fellow, with a keen eye and an insight into animal
+life that gave him especial power over Broncos and Dogs, as well
+as Wolves and Bears, though in the last two cases it was power
+merely to surmise where they were and how best to get at them. He
+had been a wolver for years, and greatly surprised me by saying
+that "never in all his experience had he known a Gray-wolf to
+attack a human being."
+
+We had many camp-fire talks while the other men were sleeping,
+and then it was I learned the little that he knew about Badlands
+Billy. "Six times have I seen him and the seventh will be Sunday,
+you bet. He takes his long rest then." And thus on the very
+ground where it all fell out, to the noise of the night wind and
+the yapping of the Coyote, interrupted sometimes by the
+deep-drawn howl of the hero
+himself, I heard chapters of this history which, with others
+gleaned in many fields, gave me the story of the Big Dark Wolf of
+Sentinel Butte.
+
+
+III
+
+IN THE CANON
+
+Away back in the spring of '92 a wolver was "wolving" on the east
+side of the Sentinel Mountain that so long was a principal
+landmark of the old Plainsmen. Pelts were not good in May, but
+the bounties were high, five dollars a head, and double for
+She-wolves. As he went down to the creek one morning he saw a
+Wolf coming to drink on the other side. He had an easy shot, and
+on killing it found it was a nursing She-wolf. Evidently her
+family were somewhere near, so he spent two or three days
+searching in all the likely places, but found no clue to the den.
+
+Two weeks afterward, as the wolver rode down an adjoining cańon,
+he saw a Wolf come out of a hole. The ever-ready rifle flew up,
+and another ten-dollar scalp was added to his string. Now he dug
+into the den and found the litter, a most surprising one indeed,
+for it consisted not of the usual five or six Wolf-pups, but of
+eleven, and these, strange to say, were of two sizes, five of
+them larger and older than the other six. Here were two distinct
+families with one mother, and as he added their scalps to his
+string of trophies the truth dawned on the hunter. One lot was
+surely the family of the She-wolf he had killed two weeks before.
+The case was clear: the little ones awaiting the mother that was
+never to come, had whined piteously and more loudly as their
+hunger-pangs increased; the other mother passing had heard the
+Cubs; her heart was tender now, her own little ones had so
+recently come, and she cared for the orphans, carried them to her
+own den, and was providing for the double family when the
+rifleman had cut the gentle chapter short.
+
+Many a wolver has dug into a wolf-den to find nothing. The old
+Wolves or possibly the Cubs themselves often dig little side
+pockets and off galleries, and when an enemy is breaking in they
+hide in these. The loose earth conceals the small pocket and thus
+the Cubs escape. When the wolver retired with his scalps he did
+not know that the biggest of all the Cubs, was still in the den,
+and even had he waited about for two hours, he might have been no
+wiser. Three hours later the sun went down and there was a slight
+scratching afar in the hole; first two little gray paws, then a
+small black nose appeared in a soft sand-pile to one side of the
+den. At length the Cub came forth from his hiding. He had been
+frightened by the attack on the den; now he was perplexed by its
+condition.
+
+It was thrice as large as it had been and open at the top now.
+Lying near were things that smelled like his brothers and
+sisters, but they were repellent to him. He was filled with fear
+as he sniffed at them, and sneaked aside into a thicket of grass,
+as a Night-hawk boomed over his head. He crouched all night in
+that thicket. He did not dare to go near the den, and knew not
+where else he could go. The next morning when two Vultures came
+swooping down on the bodies, the Wolf-cub ran off in the thicket,
+and seeking its deepest cover, was led down a ravine to a wide
+valley. Suddenly there arose from the grass a big She-wolf, like
+his mother, yet different, a stranger, and instinctively the
+stray Cub sank to the earth, as the old Wolf bounded on him. No
+doubt the Cub had been taken for some lawful prey, but a whiff
+set that right. She stood over him for an instant. He grovelled
+at her feet. The impulse to kill him or at least give him a shake
+died away. He had the smell of a young Cub. Her own were about
+his age, her heart was touched, and when he found courage enough
+to put his nose up and smell her nose, she made no angry
+demonstration except a short half-hearted growl. Now, however, he
+had smelled something that he sorely needed. He had not fed since
+the day before, and when the old Wolf turned to leave him, he
+tumbled after her on clumsy puppy legs. Had the Mother-wolf been
+far from home he must soon have been left behind, but the nearest
+hollow was the chosen place, and the Cub arrived at the den's
+mouth soon after the Mother-wolf.
+
+A stranger is an enemy, and the old one rushing forth to the
+defense, met the Cub again, and again was restrained by something
+that rose in her responsive to the smell. The Cub had thrown
+himself on his back in utter submission, but that did not prevent
+his nose reporting to him the good thing almost within reach. The
+She-wolf went into the den and curled herself about her brood;
+the Cub persisted in following. She snarled as he approached her
+own little ones, but disarming wrath each time by submission and
+his very cubhood, he was presently among her brood, helping
+himself to what he wanted so greatly, and thus he adopted himself
+into her family. In a few days he was so much one of them that
+the mother forgot about his being a stranger. Yet he was
+different from them in several ways--older by two weeks,
+stronger, and marked on the neck and shoulders with what
+afterward grew to be a dark mane. 
+
+Little Duskymane could not have been happier in his choice of a
+foster-mother, for the Yellow Wolf was not only a good hunter
+with a fund of cunning, but she was a Wolf of modern ideas as
+well. The old tricks of tolling a Prairie Dog, relaying for
+Antelope, houghing a Bronco or flanking a Steer she had learned
+partly from instinct and partly from the example of her more
+experienced relatives, when they joined to form the winter bands.
+But, just as necessary nowadays, she had learned that all men
+carry guns, that guns are irresistible, that the only way to
+avoid them is by keeping out of sight while the sun is up, and
+yet that at night they are harmless. She had a fair comprehension
+of traps, indeed she had been in one once, and though she left a
+toe behind in pulling free, it was a toe most advantageously
+disposed of; thenceforth, though not comprehending the nature of
+the trap, she was thoroughly imbued with the horror of it, with
+the idea indeed that iron is dangerous, and at any price it
+should be avoided.
+
+On one occasion, when she and five others were planning to raid a
+Sheep yard, she held back at the last minute because some
+newstrung wires appeared. The others rushed in to find the Sheep
+beyond their reach, themselves in a death-trap.
+
+Thus she had learned the newer dangers, and while it is unlikely
+that she had any clear mental conception of them she had acquired
+a wholesome distrust of all things strange, and a horror of one
+or two in particular that proved her lasting safeguard. Each year
+she raised her brood successfully and the number of Yellow Wolves
+increased in the country. Guns, traps, men and the new animals
+they brought had been learned, but there was yet another lesson
+before her--a terrible one indeed.
+
+About the time Duskymane's brothers were a month old his
+foster-mother returned in a strange condition. She was frothing
+at the mouth, her legs trembled, and she fell in a convulsion
+near the doorway of the den, but recovering, she came in. Her
+jaws quivered, her teeth rattled a little as she tried to lick
+the little ones; she seized her own front leg and bit it so as
+not to bite them, but at length she grew quieter and calmer. The
+Cubs had retreated in fear to a far pocket, but now they returned
+and crowded about her to seek their usual food. The mother
+recovered, but was very ill for two or three days, and those days
+with the poison in her system worked disaster for the brood. They
+were terribly sick; only the strongest could survive, and when
+the trial of strength was over, the den contained only the old
+one and the Black-maned Cub, the one she had adopted. Thus little
+Duskymane became her sole charge; all her strength was devoted to
+feeding him, and he thrived apace.
+
+Wolves are quick to learn certain things. The reactions of smell
+are the greatest that a Wolf can feel, and thenceforth both Cub
+and foster-mother experienced a quick, unreasoning sense of fear
+and hate the moment the smell of strychnine reached them.
+
+
+IV
+
+THE RUDIMENTS OF WOLF TRAINING
+
+With the sustenance of seven at his service the little Wolf had
+every reason to grow, and when in the autumn he began to follow
+his mother on her hunting trips he was as tall as she was. Now a
+change of region was forced on them, for numbers of little Wolves
+were growing up. Sentinel Butte, the rocky fastness of the
+plains, was claimed by many that were big and strong; the weaker
+must move out, and with them Yellow Wolf and the Dusky Cub.
+
+Wolves have no language in the sense that man has; their
+vocabulary is probably limited to a dozen howls, barks, and
+grunts expressing the simplest emotions; but they have several
+other modes of conveying ideas, and one very special method of
+spreading information--the Wolf-telephone. Scattered over their
+range are a number of recognized "centrals." Sometimes these are
+stones, sometimes the angle of cross-trails, sometimes a
+Buffalo-skull--indeed, any conspicuous object near a main trail
+is used. A Wolf calling here, as a Dog does at a telegraph post,
+or a Muskrat at a certain mud-pie point, leaves his body-scent
+and learns what other visitors have been there recently to do the
+same. He learns also whence they came and where they went, as
+well as something about their condition, whether hunted, hungry,
+gorged, or sick. By this system of registration a Wolf knows
+where his friends, as well as his foes, are to be found. And
+Duskymane, following after the Yellow Wolf, was taught the places
+and uses of the many signal-stations without any conscious
+attempt at teaching on the part of his foster-mother. Example
+backed by his native instincts was indeed the chief teacher, but
+on one occasion at least there was something very like the effort
+of a human parent to guard her child in danger.
+
+The Dark Cub had learned the rudiments of Wolf life: that the way
+to fight Dogs is to run, and to fight as you run, never grapple,
+but snap, snap, snap, and make for the rough country where Horses
+cannot bring their riders.
+
+He learned not to bother about the Coyotes that follow for the
+pickings when you hunt; you cannot catch them and they do you no
+harm.
+
+He knew he must not waste time dashing after Birds that alight on
+the ground; and that he must keep away from the little black and
+white Animal with the bushy tail. It is not very good to eat, and
+it is very, very bad to smell.
+
+Poison! Oh, he never forgot that smell from the day when the den
+was cleared of all his foster-brothers.
+
+He now knew that the first move in attacking Sheep was to scatter
+them; a lone Sheep is a foolish and easy prey; that the way to
+round up a band of Cattle was to frighten a Calf.
+
+He learned that he must always attack a Steer behind, a Sheep in
+front, and a Horse in the middle, that is, on the flank, and
+never, never attack a man at all, never even face him. But an
+important lesson was added to these, one in which the mother
+consciously taught him of a secret foe.
+
+
+V
+
+THE LESSON ON TRAPS
+
+A Calf had died in branding-time and now, two weeks later, was in
+its best state for perfect taste, not too fresh, not
+over-ripe--that is, in a Wolf's opinion -and the wind carried
+this information afar. The Yellow Wolf and Duskymane were out for
+supper, though not yet knowing where, when the tidings of veal
+arrived, and they trotted up the wind. The Calf was in an open
+place, and plain to be seen in the moonlight. A Dog would have
+trotted right up to the carcass, an  old-time Wolf might have
+done so, but constant war had developed constant vigilance in the
+Yellow Wolf, and trusting nothing and no one but her nose, she
+slacked her speed to a walk. On coming in easy view she stopped,
+and for long swung her nose, submitting the wind to the closest
+possible chemical analysis. She tried it with her finest tests,
+blew all the membranes clean again and tried it once more; and
+this was the report of the trusty nostrils, yes, the unanimous
+report. First, rich and racy smell of Calf, seventy per cent.;
+smells of grass, bugs, wood, flowers, trees, sand, and other
+uninteresting negations, fifteen per cent.; smell of her Cub and
+herself, positive but ignorable, ten per cent.; smell of human
+tracks, two per cent.; smell of smoke, one per cent.; of sweaty
+leather smell, one per cent.; of human body-scent (not
+discernible in some samples), one-half per cent.; smell of iron,
+a trace.
+
+The old Wolf crouched a little but sniffed hard with swinging
+nose; the young Wolf imitatively did the same. She backed off to
+a greater distance; the Cub stood. She gave a low whine; he
+followed unwillingly. She circled around the tempting carcass; a
+new smell was recorded--Coyote trail-scent, soon followed by
+Coyote body-scent. Yes, there they were sneaking along a near
+ridge, and now as she passed to one side the samples changed, the
+wind had lost nearly every trace of Calf; miscellaneous,
+commonplace, and uninteresting smells were there instead. The
+human track-scent was as before, the trace of leather was gone,
+but fully one-half per cent, of iron-odor, and body smell of man
+raised to nearly two per cent.
+
+Fully alarmed, she conveyed her fear to the Cub, by her rigid
+pose, her air intent, and her slightly bristling mane.
+
+She continued her round. At one time on a high place the human
+body scent was doubly strong, then as she dropped it faded. Then
+the wind brought the full calf-odor with several track-scents of
+Coyotes and sundry Birds. Her suspicions were lulling as in a
+smalling circle she neared the tempting feast from the windward
+side. She had even advanced straight toward it for a few steps
+when the sweaty leather sang loud and strong again, and smoke and
+iron mingled like two strands of a parti-colored yarn. Centring
+all her attention on this, she advanced within two leaps of the
+Calf. There on the ground was a scrap of leather, telling also of
+a human touch, close at hand the Calf, and now the iron and smoke
+on the full vast smell of Calf were like a snake trail across the
+trail of a whole Beef herd. It was so slight that the Cub, with
+the appetite and impatience of youth, pressed up against his
+mother's shoulder to go past and eat without delay. She seized
+him by the neck and flung him back. A stone struck by his feet
+rolled forward and stopped with a peculiar clink. The danger
+smell was greatly increased at this, and the Yellow Wolf backed
+slowly from the feast, the Cub unwillingly following.
+
+As he looked wistfully he saw the Coyotes drawing nearer, mindful
+chiefly to avoid the Wolves. He watched their really cautious
+advance; it seemed like heedless rushing compared with his
+mother's approach. The Calf smell rolled forth in exquisite and
+overpowering excellence now, for they were tearing the
+meat, when a sharp clank was heard and a yelp from a Coyote. At
+the same time the quiet night was shocked with a roar and a flash
+of fire. Heavy shots spattered Calf and Coyotes, and yelping like
+beaten Dogs they scattered, excepting one that was killed and a
+second struggling in the trap set here by the ever-active
+wolvers. The air was charged with the hateful smells redoubled
+now, and horrid smells additional. The Yellow Wolf glided down a
+hollow and led her Cub away in flight, but, as they went, they
+saw a man rush from the bank near where the mother's nose had
+warned her of the human scent. They saw him kill the caught
+Coyote and set the traps for more.
+
+
+
+VI
+
+THE BEGUILING OF THE YELLOW WOLF
+
+The life game is a hard game, for we may win ten thousand times,
+and if we fail but once our gain is gone. How many hundred times
+had the Yellow Wolf scorned the traps; how many Cubs she had
+trained to do the same! Of all the dangers to her life she best
+knew traps.
+
+October had come; the Cub was now much taller than the mother.
+The wolver had seen them once--a Yellow Wolf followed by another,
+whose long, awkward legs, big, soft feet, thin neck, and skimpy
+tail proclaimed him this year's Cub. The record of the dust and
+sand said that the old one had lost a right front toe, and that
+the young one was of giant size.
+
+It was the wolver that thought to turn the carcass of the Calf to
+profit, but he was disappointed in getting Coyotes instead of
+Wolves. It was the beginning of the trapping season, for this
+month fur is prime. A young trapper often fastens the bait on the
+trap; an experienced one does not. A good trapper will even put
+the bait at one place and the trap ten or twenty feet away, but
+at a spot that the Wolf is likely to cross in circling. A
+favorite plan is to hide three or four traps around an open
+place, and scatter some scraps of meat in the middle. The traps
+are buried out of sight after being smoked to hide the taint of
+hands and iron. Sometimes no bait is used except a little piece
+of cotton or a tuft of feathers that may catch the Wolf's eye or
+pique its curiosity and tempt it to circle on the fateful,
+treacherous ground. A good trapper varies his methods continually
+so that the Wolves cannot learn his ways. Their only safeguards
+are perpetual vigilance and distrust of all smells that are known
+to be of man.
+
+The wolver, with a load of the strongest steel traps, had begun
+his autumn work on the 'Cottonwood.'
+
+An old Buffalo trail crossing the river followed a little draw
+that climbed the hills to the level upland. All animals use these
+trails, Wolves and Foxes as well as Cattle and Deer: they are the
+main thoroughfares. A cottonwood stump not far from where it
+plunged to the gravelly stream was marked with Wolf signs that
+told the wolver of its use. Here was an excellent place for
+traps, not on the trail, for Cattle were here in numbers, but
+twenty yards away on a level, sandy spot he set four traps in a
+twelve-foot square. Near each he scattered two or three scraps of
+meat; three or four white feathers on a spear of grass in the
+middle completed the setting. No human eye, few animal noses,
+could have detected the hidden danger of that sandy ground, when
+the sun and wind and the sand itself had dissipated the man-track
+taint.
+
+The Yellow Wolf had seen and passed, and taught her giant son to
+pass, such traps a thousand times before.
+
+The Cattle came to water in the heat of the day. They strung down
+the Buffalo path as once the Buffalo did. The little Vesper-birds
+flitted before them, the Cowbirds rode on them, and the
+Prairie-dogs chattered at them, just as they once did at the
+Buffalo.
+
+Down from the gray-green mesa with its green-gray rocks, they
+marched with imposing solemnity, importance, and directness of
+purpose. Some frolicsome Calves, playing along-side the trail,
+grew sober and walked behind their mothers as the river flat was
+reached. The old Cow that headed the procession sniffed
+suspiciously as she passed the "trap set," but it was far away,
+otherwise she would have pawed and bellowed over the scraps of
+bloody beef till every trap was sprung and harmless.
+
+But she led to the river. After all had drunk their fill they lay
+down on the nearest bank till late afternoon. Then their unheard
+dinner-gong aroused them, and started them on the backward march
+to where the richest pastures grew.
+
+One or two small birds had picked at the scraps of meat, some
+blue-bottle flies buzzed about, but the sinking sun saw the sandy
+mask untouched.
+
+A brown Marsh Hawk came skimming over the river flat as the sun
+began his color play. Blackbirds dashed into thickets, and easily
+avoided his clumsy pounce. It was too early for the Mice, but, as
+he skimmed the ground, his keen eye caught the flutter of
+feathers by the trap and turned his flight. The feathers in their
+uninteresting emptiness were exposed before he was near, but now
+he saw the scraps of meat. Guileless of cunning, he alighted and
+was devouring a second lump when--clank--the dust was flirted
+high and the Marsh Hawk was held by his toes, struggling vainly
+in the jaws of a powerful wolf-trap. He was not much hurt. His
+ample wings winnowed from time to time, in efforts to be free,
+but he was helpless, even as a Sparrow might be in a rat-trap,
+and when the sun had played his fierce chromatic scale, his
+swan-song sung, and died as he dies only in the blazing west, and
+the shades had fallen on the melodramatic scene of the Mouse in
+the elephant-trap, there was a deep, rich sound on the high flat
+butte, answered by another, neither very long, neither repeated,
+and both instinctive rather than necessary. One was the
+muster-call of an ordinary Wolf, the other the answer of a very
+big male, not a pair in this case, but mother and son -
+Yellow Wolf and Duskymane. They came trotting together down the
+Buffalo trail. They paused at the telephone box on the hill and
+again at the old cottonwood root, and were making for the river
+when the Hawk in the trap fluttered his wings. The old Wolf
+turned toward him,-a wounded bird on the ground surely, and she
+rushed forward. Sun and sand soon burn all trail-scents; there
+was nothing to warn her. She sprang on the flopping bird and a
+chop of her jaws ended his troubles, but a horrid sound--the
+gritting of her teeth on steel--told her of peril. She dropped
+the Hawk and sprang backward from the dangerous ground, but
+landed in the second trap. High on her foot its death-grip
+closed, and leaping with all her strength, to escape, she set her
+fore foot in another of the lurking grips of steel. Never had a
+trap been so baited before. Never was she so unsuspicious. Never
+was catch more sure. Fear and fury filled the old Wolf's heart;
+she tugged and strained, she chewed the chains, she snarled and
+foamed. One trap with its buried log, she might have dragged;
+with two, she was helpless. Struggle as she might, it only worked
+those relentless jaws more deeply into her feet. She snapped
+wildly at the air; she tore the dead Hawk into shreds; she roared
+the short, barking roar of a crazy Wolf. She bit at the traps, at
+her cub, at herself. She tore her legs that were held; she gnawed
+in frenzy at her flank, she chopped off her tail in her madness;
+she splintered all her teeth on the steel, and filled her
+bleeding, foaming jaws with clay and sand.
+
+She struggled till she fell, and writhed about or lay like dead,
+till strong enough to rise and grind the chains again with her
+teeth.
+
+And so the night passed by.
+
+And Duskymane? Where was he? The feeling of the time when his
+foster-mother had come home poisoned, now returned; but he was
+even more afraid of her. She seemed filled with fighting hate. He
+held away and whined a little; he slunk off and came back when
+she lay still, only to retreat again, as she sprang forward,
+raging at him, and then renewed her efforts at the traps. He did
+not understand it, but he knew this much, she was in terrible
+trouble, and the cause seemed to be the same as that which had
+scared them the night they had ventured near the Calf.
+
+Duskymane hung about all night, fearing to go near, not knowing
+what to do, and helpless as his mother.
+
+At dawn the next day a sheepherder seeking lost Sheep discovered
+her from a neighboring hill. A signal mirror called the wolver
+from his camp. Duskymane saw the new danger. He was a mere Cub,
+though so tall; he could not face the man, and fled at his
+approach.
+
+The wolver rode up to the sorry, tattered, bleeding She-wolf in
+the trap. He raised his rifle and soon the struggling stopped.
+
+The wolver read the trail and the signs about, and remembering
+those he had read before, he divined that this was the Wolf with
+the great Cub--the She-wolf of Sentinel Butte.
+
+Duskymane heard the "crack" as he scurried off into cover. He
+could scarcely know what it meant, but he never saw his kind old
+foster-mother again. Thenceforth he must face the world alone.
+
+
+VII
+
+THE YOUNG WOLF WINS A PLACE AND FAME
+
+Instinct is no doubt a Wolf's first and best guide, but gifted
+parents are a great start in life. The dusky-maned cub had had a
+mother of rare excellence and he reaped the advantage of all her
+cleverness. He had inherited an exquisite nose and had absolute
+confidence in its admonitions. Mankind has difficulty in
+recognizing the power of nostrils. A Gray-wolf can glance over
+the morning wind as a man does over his newspaper, and get all
+the latest news. He can swing over the ground and have the
+minutest information of every living creature that has walked
+there within many hours. His nose even tells which way it ran,
+and in a word renders a statement of every animal that recently
+crossed his trail, whence it came, and whither it went.
+
+That power had Duskymane in the highest degree; his broad, moist
+nose was evidence of it to all who are judges of such things.
+Added to this, his frame was of unusual power and endurance, and
+last, he had early learned a deep distrust of everything strange,
+and, call it what we will, shyness, wariness or suspicion, it was
+worth more to him than all his cleverness. It was this as much as
+his physical powers that made a success of his life. Might is
+right in   wolf-land, and Duskymane and his mother had been
+driven out of Sentinel Butte. But it was a very delectable land
+and he kept drifting back to his native mountain. One or two big
+Wolves there resented his coming. They drove him off several
+times, yet each time he returned he was better able to face them;
+and before he was eighteen months old he had defeated all rivals
+and established himself again on his native ground; where he
+lived like a robber baron, levying tribute on the rich lands
+about him and finding safety in the rocky fastness.
+
+Wolver Ryder often hunted in that country, and before long, he
+came across a five-and-one-half-inch track, the foot-print of a
+giant Wolf. Roughly reckoned, twenty to twenty-five pounds of
+weight or six inches of stature is a fair allowance for each inch
+of a Wolf's foot; this Wolf therefore stood thirty-three inches
+at the shoulder and weighed about one hundred and forty pounds,
+by far the largest Wolf he had ever met. King had lived in Goat
+country, and now in Goat language he exclaimed: "You bet, ain't
+that an old Billy?" Thus by trivial chance it was that Duskymane
+was known to his foe, as 'Badlands Billy.'
+
+Ryder was familiar with the muster-call of the Wolves, the long,
+smooth cry, but Billy's had a singular feature, a slurring that
+was always distinctive. Ryder had heard this before, in the
+Cottonwood Cańon, and when at length he got a sight of the big
+Wolf with the black mane, it struck him that this was also the
+Cub of the old Yellow fury that he had trapped.
+
+These were among the things he told me as we sat by the fire at
+night. I knew of the early days when any one could trap or poison
+Wolves, of the passing of those days, with the passing of the
+simple Wolves; of the new race of Wolves with new cunning that
+were defying the methods of the ranchmen, and increasing steadily
+in numbers. Now the wolver told me of the various ventures that
+Penroof had made with different kinds of Hounds; of Foxhounds too
+thin-skinned to fight; of Greyhounds that were useless when the
+animal was out of sight; of Danes too heavy for the rough
+country, and, last, of the composite pack with some of all kinds,
+including at times a Bull-terrier to lead them in the final
+fight.
+
+He told of hunts after Coyotes, which usually were successful
+because the Coyotes sought the plains, and were easily caught by
+the Greyhounds. He told of killing some small Gray-wolves with
+this very pack, usually at the cost of the one that led them; but
+above all he dwelt on the wonderful prowess of "that thar cussed
+old Black Wolf of Sentinel Butte," and related the many attempts
+to run him down or corner him--an unbroken array of failures. For
+the big Wolf, with exasperating persistence, continued to live on
+the finest stock of the Penroof brand, and each year was teaching
+more Wolves how to do the same with perfect impunity.
+
+I listened even as gold-hunters listen to stories of treasure
+trove, for these were the things of my world. These things indeed
+were uppermost in all our minds, for the Penroof pack was lying
+around our camp-fire now. We were out after Badlands Billy.
+
+
+VIII
+
+THE VOICE IN THE NIGHT AND THE BIG
+TRACK IN THE MORNING
+
+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!
+
+
+IX
+
+RUN DOWN AT LAST
+
+It was the roughest of all rough riding. It was a far longer hunt
+than we had expected, and was full of little incidents, for that
+endless line of marks was a minute history of all that the big
+Wolf had done the night before. Here he had circled at the
+telephone box and looked for news; there he had paused to examine
+an old skull; here he had shied off and swung cautiously up wind
+to examine something that proved to be an old tin can; there at
+length he had mounted a low hill and sat down, probably giving
+the muster-howl, for two Wolves had come to him from different
+directions, and they then had descended to the river flat where
+the Cattle would seek shelter during the storm. Here all three
+had visited a Buffalo skull; there they trotted in line; and
+yonder they separated, going three different ways, to
+meet--yes--here--oh, what a sight, a fine Cow ripped open, left
+dead and uneaten. Not to their taste, it seems, for see! within a
+mile is another killed by them. Not six hours ago, they had
+feasted. Here their trails scatter again, but not far, and the
+snow tells plainly how each had lain down to sleep. The Hounds'
+manes bristled as they sniffed those places. King had held the
+Dogs well in hand, but now they were greatly excited. We came to
+a hill whereon the Wolves had turned and faced our way, then fled
+at full speed,--so said the trail,--and now it was clear that
+they had watched us from that hill, and were not far away.
+
+The pack kept well together, because the Greyhounds, seeing no
+quarry, were merely puttering about among the other Dogs, or
+running back with the Horses. We went as fast as we could, for
+the Wolves were speeding. Up mesas and down coulees we rode,
+sticking closely to the Dogs, though it was the roughest country
+that could be picked. One gully after another, an hour and
+another hour, and still the threefold track went bounding on;
+another hour and no change, but interminable climbing, sliding,
+struggling, through brush and over boulders, guided by the
+far-away yelping of the Dogs.
+
+Now the chase led downward to the low valley of the river, where
+there was scarcely any snow. Jumping and scrambling down hills,
+recklessly leaping dangerous gullies and slippery rocks, we felt
+that we could not hold out much longer; when on the lowest,
+dryest level the pack split, some went up, some went down, and
+others straight on. Oh, how King did swear! He knew at once what
+it meant. The Wolves had scattered, and so had divided the pack.
+Three Dogs after a Wolf would have no chance, four could not kill
+him, two would certainly be killed. And yet this was the first
+encouraging sign we had seen, for it meant that the Wolves were
+hard pressed. We spurred ahead to stop the Dogs, to pick for them
+the only trail. But that was not so easy. Without snow here and
+with countless Dog tracks, we were foiled. All we could do was to
+let the Dogs choose, but keep them to a single choice. Away we
+went as before, hoping, yet fearing that we were not on the right
+track. The Dogs ran well, very fast indeed. This was a bad sign,
+King said, but we could not get sight of the track because the
+Dogs overran it before we came.
+
+After a two-mile run the chase led upward again in snow country;
+the Wolf was sighted, but to our disgust, we were on the track of
+the smallest one.
+
+"I thought so," growled young Penroof. "Dogs was altogether too
+keen for a serious proposition. Kind o' surprised it ain't turned
+out a Jack-rabbit."
+
+Within another mile he had turned to bay in a willow thicket. We
+heard him howl the long-drawn howl for help, and before we could
+reach the place King saw the Dogs recoil and scatter. A minute
+later there sped from the far side of the thicket a small
+Gray-wolf and a Black One of very much greater size.
+
+"By golly, if he didn't yell for help, and Billy come back to
+help him; that's great!" exclaimed the wolver. And my heart went
+out to the brave old Wolf that refused to escape by abandoning
+his friend.
+
+The next hour was a hard repetition of the gully riding, but it
+was on the highlands where there was snow, and when again the
+pack was split, we strained every power and succeeded in keeping
+them on the big " five-fifty track," that already was wearing for
+me the glamour of romance.
+
+Evidently the Dogs preferred either of the others, but we got
+them going at last. Another half hour's hard work and far ahead,
+as I rose to a broad flat plain, I had my first glimpse of the
+Big Black Wolf of Sentinel Butte.
+
+"Hurrah! Badlands Billy! Hurrah! Badlands Billy!" I shouted in
+salute, and the others took up the cry.
+
+We were on his track at last, thanks to himself. The Dogs joined
+in with a louder baying, the Greyhounds yelped and made straight
+for him, and the Horses sniffed and sprang more gamely as they
+caught the thrill. The only silent one was the black-maned Wolf,
+and as I marked his size and power, and above all his long and
+massive jaws, I knew why the Dogs preferred some other trail.
+
+With head and tail low he was bounding over the snow. His tongue
+was lolling long; plainly he was hard pressed. The wolvers' hands
+flew to their revolvers, though he was three hundred yards ahead;
+they were out for blood, not sport. But an instant later he had
+sunk from view in the nearest sheltered cańon.
+
+Now which way would he go, up or down the cańon? Up was toward
+his mountain, down was better cover. King and I thought "up," so
+pressed westward along the ridge. But the others rode eastward,
+watching for a chance to shoot.
+
+Soon we had ridden out of hearing. We were wrong--the Wolf had
+gone down, but we heard no shooting. The cańon was crossable
+here; we reached the other side and then turned back at a gallop,
+scanning the snow for a trail, the hills for a moving form, or
+the wind for a sound of life.
+
+"Squeak, squeak," went our saddle leathers, "puff-puff" our
+Horses, and their feet "ka-ka-lump, ka-ka-lump."
+
+
+X
+
+WHEN BILLY WENT BACK TO HIS MOUNTAIN
+
+We were back opposite to where the Wolf had plunged, but saw no
+sign. We rode at an easy gallop, on eastward, a mile, and still
+on, when King gasped out, "Look at that!" A dark spot was moving
+on the snow ahead. We put on speed. Another dark spot appeared,
+and another, but they were not going fast. In five minutes we
+were near them, to find--three of our own Greyhounds. They had
+lost sight of the game, and with that their interest waned. Now
+they were seeking us. We saw nothing there of the chase or of the
+other hunters. But hastening to the next ridge we stumbled on the
+trail we sought and followed as hard as though in view. Another
+cańon came in our path, and as we rode and looked for a place to
+cross, a wild din of Hounds came from its brushy depth. The
+clamor grew and passed up the middle.
+
+We raced along the rim, hoping to see the game. The Dogs appeared
+near the farther side, not in a pack, but a long, straggling
+line. In five minutes more they rose to the edge, and ahead of
+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 cańon 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 cańon dwindled--rough 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 bay--they
+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, and--now all you
+who love the Dogs had better close the book--on--up and
+down--fifteen 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 Tige--but 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 on--down-to their death. Slash, chop and heave, from the
+swiftest to the biggest, to the last, down--down--he 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
+aside--the 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 cańon 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
+nothing--we 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 generous--had 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 ones--half starved before they came--were a double
+drain, for they took the time she might have spent in hunting.
+
+The Northern Hare is the favorite food of the Lynx, and in some
+years she could have killed fifty in one day, but never one did
+she see this season. The plague had done its work too well.
+
+One day she caught a Red-squirrel which had run into a hollow log
+that proved a trap. Another day a fetid Blacksnake was her only
+food. A day was missed, and the little ones whined piteously for
+their natural food and failing drink. One day she saw a large
+black animal of unpleasant but familiar smell. Swiftly and
+silently she sprang to make attack. She struck it once on the
+nose, but the Porcupine doubled his head under, his tail flew up,
+and the mother Lynx was speared in a dozen places with the little
+stinging javelins. She drew them all with her teeth, for she had
+"learned Porcupine" years before, and only the hard push of want
+would have made her strike one now.
+
+A Frog was all she caught that day. On the next, as she ranged
+the farthest woods in a long, hard hunt, she heard a singular
+calling voice. It was new to her. She approached it cautiously,
+up wind, got many new odors and some more strange sounds in
+coming. The loud, clear, rolling call was repeated as the mother
+Lynx came to an opening in the forest. In the middle of it were
+two enormous muskrat or beaver-houses, far bigger than the
+biggest she ever before had seen. They were made partly of logs
+and situated, not in a pond, but on a dry knoll. Walking about
+them were a number of Partridges, that is, birds like Partridges,
+only larger and of various colors, red, yellow, and white.
+
+She quivered with the excitement that in a man would have been
+called buck-fever. Food--food--abundance of food, and the old
+huntress sank to earth. Her breast was on the ground, her elbows
+above her back, as she made stalk, her shrewdest, subtlest stalk;
+one of those Partridges she must have at any price; no trick now
+must go untried, no error in this hunt; if it took hours--all day
+--she must approach with certainty to win before the quarry took
+to flight.
+
+Only a few bounds it was from wood shelter to the great
+rat-house, but she was an hour in crawling that small space. From
+stump to brush, from log to bunch of grass she sneaked, a
+flattened form, and the Partridges saw her not. They fed about,
+the biggest uttering the ringing call that first had fallen on
+her ear.
+
+Once they seemed to sense their peril, but a long await dispelled
+the fear. Now they were almost in reach, and she trembled with
+all the eagerness of the hunting heart and the hungry maw. Her
+eye centred on a white one not quite the nearest, but the color
+seemed to hold her gaze.
+
+There was an open space around the rat-house; outside that were
+tall weeds, and stumps were scattered everywhere. The white bird
+wandered behind these weeds, the red one of the loud voice flew
+to the top of the rat-mound and sang as before. The mother Lynx
+sank lower yet. It seemed an alarm note; but no, the white one
+still was there; she could see its feathers gleaming through the
+weeds. An open space now lay about. The huntress, flattened like
+an empty skin, trailed slow and silent on the ground behind a log
+no thicker than her neck; if she could reach that tuft of brush
+she could get unseen to the weeds and then would be near enough
+to spring. She could smell them now--the rich and potent smell of
+life, of flesh and blood, that set her limbs a-tingle and her
+eyes a-glow.
+
+The Partridges still scratched and fed; another flew to the high
+top, but the white one remained. Five more slow-gliding, silent
+steps, and the Lynx was behind the weeds, the white bird shining
+through; she gauged the distance, tried the footing, swung her
+hind legs to clear some fallen brush, then leaped direct with all
+her force, and the white one never knew the death it died, for
+the fateful gray shadow dropped, the swift and deadly did their
+work, and before the other birds could realize the foe or fly,
+the Lynx was gone, with the white bird squirming in her jaws.
+
+Uttering an unnecessary growl of inborn ferocity and joy she
+bounded into the forest, and bee-like sped for home. The last
+quiver had gone from the warm body of the victim when she heard
+the sound of heavy feet ahead. She leaped on a log. The wings of
+her prey were muffling her eyes, so she laid the bird down and
+held it safely with one paw. The sound drew nearer, the bushes
+bent, and a Boy stepped into view. The old Lynx knew and hated
+his kind. She had watched them at night, had followed them, had
+been hunted and hurt by them. For a moment they stood face to
+face. The huntress growled a warning that was also a challenge
+and a defiance, picked up the bird and bounded from the log into
+the sheltering bushes. It was a mile or two to the den, but she
+stayed not to eat till the sunlit opening and the big basswood
+came to view; then a low "prr-prr" called forth the little ones
+to revel with their mother in a plenteous meal of the choicest
+food.
+
+
+III
+
+THE HOME OF THE LYNX
+
+At first Thor, being town-bred, was timid about venturing into
+the woods beyond the sound of Corney's axe; but day by day he
+went farther, guiding himself, not by unreliable moss on trees,
+but by sun, compass, and landscape features. His purpose was to
+learn about the wild animals rather than to kill them; but the
+naturalist is close kin to the sportsman, and the gun was his
+constant companion. In the clearing, the only animal of any size
+was a fat Woodchuck; it had a hole under a stump some hundred
+yards from the shanty. On sunny mornings it used to lie basking
+on the stump, but eternal vigilance is the price of every good
+thing in the woods. The Woodchuck was always alert and Thor tried
+in vain to shoot or even to trap him.
+
+"Hyar," said Corney one morning, "time we had some fresh meat."
+He took down his rifle, an old-fashioned brass-mounted
+small-bore, and loading with care that showed the true rifleman,
+he steadied the weapon against the door-jamb and fired. The
+Woodchuck fell backward and lay still. Thor raced to the place
+and returned in triumph with the animal, shouting: "Plumb through
+the head--one hundred and twenty yards."
+
+Corney controlled the gratified smile that wrestled with the
+corners of his mouth, but his bright eyes shone a trifle brighter
+for the moment.
+
+It was no mere killing for killing's sake, for the Woodchuck was
+spreading a belt of destruction in the crop around his den. Its
+flesh supplied the family with more than one good meal and Corney
+showed Thor how to use the skin. First the pelt was wrapped in
+hardwood ashes for twenty-four hours. This brought the hair off.
+Then the skin was soaked for three days in soft soap and worked
+by hand, as it dried, till it came out a white strong leather.
+
+Thor's wanderings extended farther in search of the things which
+always came as surprises however much he was looking for them.
+Many days were blanks and others would be crowded with incidents,
+for unexpectedness is above all the peculiar feature of hunting,
+and its lasting charm. One day he had gone far beyond the ridge
+in a new direction and passed through an open glade where lay the
+broken trunk of a huge basswood. The size impressed it on his
+memory. He swung past the glade to make for the lake, a mile to
+the west, and twenty minutes later he started back as his eye
+rested on a huge black animal in the crotch of a hemlock, some
+thirty feet from the ground. A Bear! At last, this was the test
+of nerve he had half expected all summer; had been wondering how
+that mystery "himself" would act under this very trial. He stood
+still; his right hand dived into his pocket and, bringing out
+three or four buckshot, which he carried for emergency, he
+dropped them on top of the birdshot already in the gun, then
+rammed a wad to hold them down.
+
+The Bear had not moved and the boy could not see its head, but
+now he studied it carefully. It was not such a large one--no, it
+was a small one, yes, very small--a cub. A cub! That meant a
+mother Bear at hand, and Thor looked about with some fear, but
+seeing no signs of any except the little one, he levelled the gun
+and fired.
+
+Then to his surprise down crashed the animal quite dead; it was
+not a Bear, but a large Porcupine. As it lay there he examined it
+with wonder and regret, for. he had no wish to kill such a
+harmless creature. On its grotesque face he found two or three
+long scratches which proved that he had not been its only enemy.
+As he turned away he noticed some blood on his trousers, then saw
+that his left hand was bleeding. He had wounded himself quite
+severely on the quills of the animal without knowing it. He was
+sorry to leave the specimen there, and Loo, when she learned of
+it, said it was a shame not to skin it when she "needed
+a fur-lined cape for the winter."
+
+On another day Thor had gone without a gun, as he meant only to
+gather some curious plants he had seen. They were close to the
+clearing; he knew the place by a fallen elm. As he came to it he
+heard a peculiar sound. Then on the log his eye caught two moving
+things. He lifted a bough and got a clear view. They were the
+head and tail of an enormous Lynx. It had seen him and was
+glaring and grumbling; and under its foot on the log was a white
+bird that a second glance showed to be one of their own precious
+hens. How fierce and cruel the brute looked! How Thor hated it!
+and fairly gnashed his teeth with disgust that now, when his
+greatest chance was come, he for once was without his gun. He was
+in not a little fear, too, and stood wondering what to do. The
+Lynx growled louder; its stumpy tail twitched viciously for a
+minute, then it picked up its victim, and leaping from the log
+was lost to view.
+
+As it was a very rainy summer, the ground was soft everywhere,
+and the young hunter was led to follow tracks that would have
+defied an expert in dryer times. One day he came on piglike
+footprints in the woods. He followed them with little difficulty,
+for they were new, and a heavy rain two hours before had washed
+out all other trails. After about half a mile they led him to an
+open ravine, and as he reached its brow he saw across it a flash
+of white; then his keen young eyes made out the forms of a Deer
+and a spotted Fawn gazing at him curiously. Though on their trail
+he was not a little startled. He gazed at them open-mouthed. The
+mother turned and raised the danger flag, her white tail, and
+bounded lightly away, to be followed by the youngster, clearing
+low trunks with an effortless leap, or bending down with catlike
+suppleness when they came to a log upraised so that they might
+pass below.
+
+He never again got a chance to shoot at them, though more than
+once he saw the same two tracks, or believed they were the same,
+as for some cause never yet explained, Deer were scarcer in that
+unbroken forest than they were in later years when clearings
+spread around.
+
+He never again saw them; but he saw the mother once--he thought
+it was the same--she was searching the woods with her nose,
+trying the ground for trails; she was nervous and anxious,
+evidently seeking. Thor remembered a trick that Corney had told
+him. He gently stooped, took up a broad blade of grass, laid it
+between the edges of his thumbs, then blowing through this simple
+squeaker he made a short, shrill bleat, a fair imitation of a
+Fawn's cry for the mother, and the Deer, though a long way off,
+came bounding toward him. He snatched his gun, meaning to kill
+her, but the movement caught her eye. She stopped. Her mane
+bristled a little; she sniffed and looked inquiringly at him. Her
+big soft eyes touched his heart, held back his hand; she took a
+cautious step nearer, got a full whiff of her mortal enemy,
+bounded behind a big tree and away before his merciful impulse
+was gone. "Poor thing," said Thor, "I believe she has lost her
+little one."
+
+Yet once more the Boy met a Lynx in the woods. Half an hour after
+seeing the lonely Deer he crossed the long ridge that lay some
+miles north of the shanty. He had passed the glade where the
+great basswood lay when a creature like a big bob-tailed Kitten
+appeared and looked innocently at him. His gun went up, as usual,
+but the Kitten merely cocked its head on one side and fearlessly
+surveyed him. Then a second one that he had not noticed before
+began to play with the first, pawing at its tail and inviting its
+brother to tussle.
+
+Thor's first thought to shoot was stayed as he watched their
+gambols, but the remembrance of his feud with their race came
+back. He had almost raised the gun when a fierce rumble close at
+hand gave him a start, and there, not ten feet from him, stood
+the old one, looking big and fierce as a Tigress. It was surely
+folly to shoot at the young ones now. The boy nervously dropped
+some buckshot on the charge while the snarling growl rose and
+fell, but before he was ready to shoot at her the old one had
+picked up something that was by her feet; the boy got a glimpse
+of rich brown with white spots--the limp form of a newly killed
+Fawn. Then she passed out of sight. The Kittens followed, and he
+saw her no more until the time when, life against life, they were
+weighed in the balance together.
+
+
+IV
+
+THE TERROR OF THE WOODS
+
+Six weeks had passed in daily routine when one day the young
+giant seemed unusually quiet as he went about. His handsome face
+was very sober and he sang not at all that morning.
+
+He and Thor slept on a hay-bunk in one corner of the main room,
+and that night the Boy awakened more than once to hear his
+companion groaning and tossing in his sleep. Corney arose as
+usual in the morning and fed the horses, but lay down again while
+the sisters got breakfast. He roused himself by an effort and
+went back to work, but came home early. He was trembling from
+head to foot. It was hot summer weather, but he could not be kept
+warm. After several hours a reaction set in and Corney was in a
+high fever. The family knew well now that he had the dreaded
+chills and fever of the backwoods. Margat went out and gathered a
+lapful of pipsissewa to make tea, of which Corney was encouraged
+to drink copiously.
+
+But in spite of all their herbs and nursing the young man got
+worse. At the end of ten days he was greatly reduced in flesh and
+incapable of work, so on one of the "well days" that are usual in
+the course of the disease he said:
+
+"Say, gurruls, I can't stand it no longer. Guess I better go
+home. I'm well enough to drive to-day, for a while anyway; if I'm
+took down I'll lay in the wagon, and the horses will fetch me
+home. Mother'll have me all right in a week or so. If you run out
+of grub before I come back take the canoe to Ellerton's."
+
+So the girls harnessed the horses; the wagon was partly filled
+with hay, and Corney, weak and white-faced, drove away on the
+long rough road, and left them feeling much as though they were
+on a desert island and their only boat had been taken from them.
+
+Half a week had scarcely gone before all three of them, Margat,
+Loo, and Thor, were taken down with a yet more virulent form of
+chills and fever.
+
+Corney had had every other a "well day," but with these three
+there were no "well days" and the house became an abode of
+misery.
+
+Seven days passed, and now Margat could not leave her bed and Loo
+was barely able to walk around the house. She was a brave girl
+with a fund of drollery which did much toward keeping up all
+their spirits, but her merriest jokes fell ghastly from her wan,
+pinched face. Thor, though weak and ill, was the strongest and
+did for the others, cooking and serving each day a simple meal,
+for they could eat very little, fortunately, perhaps, as there
+was very little, and Corney could not return for another week.
+
+Soon Thor was the only one able to rise, and one morning when he
+dragged himself to cut the little usual slice of their treasured
+bacon he found, to his horror, that the whole piece was gone. It
+had been stolen, doubtless by some wild animal, from the little
+box on the shady side of the house, where it was kept safe from
+flies. Now they were down to flour and tea. He was in despair,
+when his eye lighted on the Chickens about the stable; but what's
+the use? In his feeble state he might as well try to catch a Deer
+or a Hawk. Suddenly he remembered his gun and very soon was
+preparing a fat Hen for the pot. He boiled it whole as the
+easiest way to cook it, and the broth was the first really
+tempting food they had had for some time.
+
+They kept alive for three wretched days on that Chicken, and when
+it was finished Thor again took down his gun--it seemed a much
+heavier gun now. He crawled to the barn, but he was so weak and
+shaky that he missed several times before he brought down a fowl.
+Corney had taken the rifle away with him and three charges of gun
+ammunition were all that now remained.
+
+Thor was surprised to see how few Hens there were now, only three
+or four. There used to be over a dozen. Three days later he made
+another raid. He saw but one Hen and he used up his last
+ammunition to get that.
+
+His daily routine now was a monotony of horror. In the morning,
+which was his "well time," he prepared a little food for the
+household and got ready for the night of raging fever by putting
+a bucket of water on a block at the head of each bunk. About one
+o'clock, with fearful regularity, the chills would come on, with
+trembling from head to foot and chattering teeth, and cold, cold,
+within and without. Nothing seemed to give any warmth--fire
+seemed to have lost its power. There was nothing to do but to lie
+and shake and suffer all the slow torture of freezing to death
+and shaking to pieces. For six hours it would keep up, and to the
+torture, nausea lent its horrid aid throughout; then about seven
+or eight o'clock in the evening a change would come; a burning
+fever set in; no ice could have seemed cool to him then;
+water--water--was all he craved, and drank and drank until three
+or four in the morning, when the fever would abate, and a sleep
+of total exhaustion followed.
+
+"If you run out of food take the canoe to Ellerton's," was the
+brother's last word. Who was to take the canoe?
+
+There was but half a Chicken now between them and starvation, and
+no sign of Corney.
+
+For three interminable weeks the deadly program dragged along. It
+went on the same yet worse, as the sufferers grew weaker--a few
+days more and the Boy also would be unable to leave his couch.
+Then what?
+
+Despair was on the house and the silent cry of each was, "Oh,
+God! will Corney never come?"
+
+
+V
+
+THE HOME OF THE BOY
+
+On the day of that last Chicken, Thor was all morning carrying
+water enough for the coming three fevers. The chill attacked him
+sooner than it was due and his fever was worse than ever before.
+
+He drank deeply and often from the bucket at his head. He had
+filled it, and it was nearly emptied when about two in the
+morning the fever left him and he fell asleep.
+
+In the gray dawn he was awakened by a curious sound not far
+away--a splashing of water. He turned his head to see two glaring
+eyes within a foot of his face--a great Beast lapping the water
+in the bucket by his bed.
+
+Thor gazed in horror for a moment, then closed his eyes, sure
+that he was dreaming, certain that this was a nightmare of India
+with a Tiger by his couch; but the lapping continued. He looked
+up; yes, it still was there. He tried to find his voice but
+uttered only a gurgle. The great furry head quivered, a sniff
+came from below the shining eyeballs, and the creature, whatever
+it was, dropped to its front feet and went across the hut under
+the table. Thor was fully awake now; he rose slowly on his elbow
+and feebly shouted "Sssh-hi," at which the shining eyes
+reappeared under the table and the gray form came forth. Calmly
+it walked across the ground and glided under the lowest log at a
+place where an old potato pit left an opening and disappeared.
+What was it? The sick boy hardly knew--some savage Beast of prey,
+undoubtedly. He was totally unnerved. He shook with fear and a
+sense of helplessness, and the night passed in fitful sleep and
+sudden starts awake to search the gloom again for those fearful
+eyes and the great gray gliding form. In the morning he did not
+know whether it were not all a delirium, yet he made a feeble
+effort to close the old cellar hole with some firewood.
+
+The three had little appetite, but even that they restrained
+since now they were down to part of a Chicken, and Corney,
+evidently he supposed they had been to Ellerton's and got all the
+food they needed.
+
+Again that night, when the fever left him weak and dozing, Thor
+was awakened by a noise in the room, a sound of crunching bones.
+He looked around to see dimly outlined against the little window,
+the form of a large animal on the table. Thor shouted; he tried
+to hurl his boot at the intruder. It leaped lightly to the ground
+and passed out of the hole, again wide open.
+
+It was no dream this time, he knew, and the women knew it, too;
+not only had they heard the creature, but the Chicken, the last
+of their food, was wholly gone.
+
+Poor Thor barely left his couch that day. It needed all the
+querulous complaints of the sick women to drive him forth. Down
+by the spring he found a few berries and divided them with the
+others. He made his usual preparations for the chills and the
+thirst, but he added this--by the side of his couch he put an old 
+fish-spear--the only weapon he could find, now the gun was
+useless--a pine-root candle and some matches. He knew the Beast
+was coming back again--was coming hungry. It would find no food;
+what more natural, he thought, than take the living prey lying
+there so helpless? And a vision came of the limp brown form of
+the little Fawn, borne off in those same cruel jaws.
+
+Once again he barricaded the hole with firewood, and the night
+passed as usual, but without any fierce visitor. Their food that
+day was flour and water, and to cook it Thor was forced to use
+some of his barricade. Loo attempted some feeble joke, guessed
+she was light enough to fly now and tried to rise, but she got no
+farther than the edge of the bunk. The same preparations were
+made, and the night wore on, but early in the morning, Thor was
+again awakened rudely by the sound of lapping water by his bed,
+and there, as before, were the glowing eyeballs, the great head,
+the gray form relieved by the dim light from the dawning window.
+
+Thor put all his strength into what was meant for a bold shout,
+but it was merely a feeble screech. He rose slowly and called
+out: "Loo, Margat! The Lynx--here's the Lynx again!"
+
+"May God help ye, for we can't," was the answer.
+
+"Sssh-hi!" Thor tried again to drive the Beast away. It leaped on
+to the table by the window and stood up growling under the
+useless gun. Thor thought it was going to leap through the glass
+as it faced the window a moment; but it turned and glared toward
+the Boy, for he could see both eyes shining. He rose slowly to
+the side of his bunk and he prayed for help, for he felt it was
+kill or be killed. He struck a match and lighted his pine-root
+candle, held that in his left hand and in his right took the old
+fish-spear, meaning to fight, but he was so weak he had to use
+the fish-spear as a crutch. The great Beast stood on the table
+still, but was crouching a little as though for a spring. Its
+eyes glowed red in the torchlight. Its short tail was switching
+from side to side and its growling took a higher pitch. Thor's
+knees were smiting together, but he levelled the spear and made a
+feeble lunge toward the brute. It sprang at the same moment, not
+at him, as he first thought--the torch and the boy's bold front
+had had effect--it went over his head to drop on the ground
+beyond and at once to slink under the bunk.
+
+This was only a temporary repulse. Thor set the torch on a ledge
+of the logs, then took the spear in both hands. He was fighting
+for his life, and he knew it. He heard the voices of the women
+feebly praying. He saw only the glowing eyes under the bed and
+heard the growling in higher pitch as the Beast was nearing
+action. He steadied himself by a great effort and plunged the
+spear with all the force he could give it.
+
+It struck something softer than the logs: a hideous snarl came
+forth. The boy threw all his weight on the weapon; the Beast was
+struggling to get at him; he felt its teeth and claws grating on
+the handle, and in spite of himself it was coming on; its
+powerful arms and claws were reaching for him now; he could not
+hold out long. He put on all his force, just a little more it was
+than before; the Beast lurched, there was a growling, a crack,
+and a sudden yielding; the rotten old spear-head had broken off,
+the Beast sprang out--at him--past him --never touched him, but
+across through the hole and away, to be seen no more.
+
+Thor fell on the bed and lost all consciousness.
+
+He lay there he knew not how long, but was awakened in broad
+daylight by a loud, cheery voice:
+
+"Hello! Hello!--are ye all dead? Loo! Thor! Margat!"
+
+He had no strength to answer, but there was a trampling of horses
+outside, a heavy step, the door was forced open, and in strode
+Corney, handsome and hearty as ever. But what a flash of horror
+and pain came over his face on entering the silent shanty!
+
+"Dead?" he gasped. "Who's dead--where are you? Thor?" Then, "Who
+is it? Loo? Margat?"
+
+"Corney--Corney," came feebly from the bunk. "They're in there.
+They're awful sick. We have nothing to eat."
+
+"Oh, what a fool I be!" said Corney again and again. "I made sure
+ye'd go to Ellerton's and get all ye wanted."
+
+"We had no chance, Corney; we were all three brought down at
+once, right after you left. Then the Lynx came and cleared up the
+Hens, and all in the house, too."
+
+"Well, ye got even with her," and Corney pointed to the trail of
+blood across the mud floor and out under the logs.
+
+Good food, nursing, and medicine restored them all.
+
+A month or two later, when the women wanted a new
+leaching-barrel, Thor said: "I know where there is a hollow
+basswood as big as a hogshead."
+
+He and Corney went to the place, and when they cut off what they
+needed, they found in the far end of it the dried-up bodies of
+two little Lynxes with that of the mother, and in the side of the
+old one was the head of a fish-spear broken from the handle.
+
+
+
+LITTLE WARHORSE
+
+The History of a Jack-rabbit
+
+The Little Warhorse knew practically all the Dogs in town. First,
+there was a very large brown Dog that had pursued him many times,
+a Dog that he always got rid of by slipping through a hole in a
+board fence. Second, there was a small active Dog that could
+follow through that hole, and him he baffled by leaping a
+twenty-foot irrigation ditch that had steep sides and a swift
+current. The Dog could not make this leap. It was "sure medicine"
+for that foe, and the boys still call the place "Old Jacky's
+Jump." But there was a Greyhound that could leap better than the
+Jack, and when he could not follow through a fence, he jumped
+over it. He tried the Warhorse's mettle more than once, and Jacky
+only saved himself by his quick dodging, till they got to an
+Osage hedge, and here the Greyhound had to give it up. Besides
+these, there was in town a rabble of big and little Dogs that
+were troublesome, but easily left behind in the open.
+
+In the country there was a Dog at each farm-house, but only one
+that the Warhorse really feared; that was a long-legged, fierce,
+black Dog, a brute so swift and pertinacious that he had several
+times forced the Warhorse almost to the last extremity.
+
+For the town Cats he cared little; only once or twice had he been
+threatened by them. A huge Tom-cat flushed with many victories
+came crawling up to where he fed one moonlight night. Jack
+Warhorse saw the black creature with the glowing eyes, and a
+moment before the final rush, he faced it, raised up on his
+haunches,--his hind legs,--at full length on his toes,--with his
+broad ears towering up yet six inches higher; then letting out a
+loud churrr-churrr, his best attempt at a roar, he sprang five
+feet forward and landed on the Cat's head, driving in his sharp
+hind nails, and the old Tom fled in terror from the weird
+two-legged giant. This trick he had tried several times with
+success, but twice it turned out a sad failure: once, when the
+Cat proved to be a mother whose Kittens were near; then Jack
+Warhorse had to flee for his life; and the other time was when he
+made the mistake of landing hard on a Skunk.
+
+But the Greyhound was the dangerous enemy, and in him the
+Warhorse might have found his fate, but for a curious adventure
+with a happy ending for Jack.
+
+He fed by night; there were fewer enemies about then, and it was
+easier to hide; but one day at dawn in winter he had lingered
+long at an alfalfa stack and was crossing the open snow toward
+his favorite form, when, as ill-luck would have it, he met the
+Greyhound prowling outside the town. With open snow and growing
+daylight there was no chance to hide, nothing but a run in the
+open with soft snow that hindered the Jack more than it did the
+Hound.
+
+Off they went--superb runners in fine fettle. how they skimmed
+across the snow, raising it in little puff-puff-puffs, each time
+their nimble feet went down. This way and that, swerving and
+dodging, went the chase. Everything favored the Dog,--his empty
+stomach, the cold weather, the soft snow,--while the Rabbit was
+handicapped by his heavy meal of alfalfa. But his feet went
+puff--puff so fast that a dozen of the little snow-jets were in
+view at once. The chase continued in the open; no friendly hedge
+was near, and every attempt to reach a fence was cleverly stopped
+by the Hound. Jack's ears were losing their bold   up-cock, a
+sure sign of failing heart or wind, when all at once these flags
+went stiffly up, as under sudden renewal of strength. The
+Warhorse put forth all his power, not to reach the hedge to the
+north, but over the open prairie eastward. The Greyhound
+followed, and within fifty yards the Jack dodged to foil his
+fierce pursuer; but on the next tack he was on his eastern course
+again, and so tacking and dodging, he kept the line direct for
+the next farm-house, where was a very high board fence with a
+hen-hole, and where also there dwelt his other hated enemy, the
+big black Dog. An outer hedge delayed the Greyhound for a moment
+and gave Jack time to dash through the hen-hole into the yard,
+where he hid to one side. The Greyhound rushed around to the low
+gate, leaped over that among the Hens, and as they fled cackling
+and fluttering, some Lambs bleated loudly. Their natural
+guardian, the big black Dog, ran to the rescue, and Warhorse
+slipped out again by the hole at which he had entered. Horrible
+sounds of Dog hate and fury were heard behind him in the
+hen-yard, and soon the shouts of men were added. How it ended he
+did not know or seek to learn, but it was remarkable that he
+never afterward was troubled by the swift Greyhound that formerly
+lived in Newchusen.
+
+II
+
+Hard times and easy times had long followed in turn and been
+taken as matters of course; but recent years in the State of
+Kaskado had brought to the Jack-rabbits a succession of
+remarkable ups and downs. In the old days they had their endless
+fight with Birds and Beasts of Prey, with cold and heat, with
+pestilence and with flies whose sting bred a loathsome disease,
+and yet had held their own. But the settling of the country by
+farmers made many changes.
+
+Dogs and guns arriving in numbers reduced the ranks of Coyotes,
+Foxes, Wolves, Badgers, and Hawks that preyed on the Jack, so
+that in a few years the Rabbits were multiplied in great swarms;
+but now Pestilence broke out and swept them away. Only the
+strongest--the double-seasoned--remained. For a while a   
+Jack-rabbit was a rarity; but during this time another change
+came in. The Osage-orange hedges planted everywhere afforded a
+new refuge, and now the safety of a Jack-rabbit was less often
+his speed than his wits, and the wise ones, when pursued by a Dog
+or Coyote, would rush to the nearest hedge through a small hole
+and escape while the enemy sought for a larger one by which to
+follow. The Coyotes rose to this and developed the trick of the
+relay chase. In this one Coyote takes one field, another the
+next, and if the Rabbit attempts the "hedge-ruse" they work from
+each side and usually win their prey. The Rabbit remedy for this,
+is keen eyes to see the second Coyote, avoidance of that field,
+then good legs to distance the first enemy.
+ 
+Thus the Jack-rabbits, after being successively numerous, scarce,
+in myriads, and rare, were now again on the increase, and those
+which survived, selected by a hundred hard trials, were enabled
+to flourish where their ancestors could not have outlived a
+single season.
+
+Their favorite grounds were, not the broad open stretches of the
+big ranches, but the complicated, much-fenced fields of the
+farms, where these were so small and close as to be like a big
+straggling village.
+
+One of these vegetable villages had sprung up around the railway
+station of Newchusen. The country a mile away was well supplied
+with Jack-rabbits of the new and selected stock. Among them was a
+little lady Rabbit called "Bright-eyes," from her leading
+characteristic as she sat gray in the gray brush.
+She was a good runner, but was especially successful with the
+fence-play that baffled the Coyotes. She made her nest out in an
+open pasture, an untouched tract of the ancient prairie. Here her
+brood were born and raised. One like herself was bright-eyed, in
+coat of silver-gray, and partly gifted with her ready wits, but
+in the other, there appeared a rare combination of his mother's
+gifts with the best that was in the best strain of the new
+Jack-rabbits of the plains.
+
+This was the one whose adventures we have been following, the one
+that later on the turf won the name of Little Warhorse and that
+afterward achieved a world-wide fame.
+
+Ancient tricks of his kind he revived and put to new uses, and
+ancient enemies he learned to fight with new-found tricks.
+
+When a mere baby he discovered a plan that was worthy of the
+wisest Rabbit in Kaskado. He was pursued by a horrible little
+Yellow Dog, and he had tried in vain to get rid of him by dodging
+among the fields and farms. This is good play against a Coyote,
+because the farmers and the Dogs will often help the Jack,
+without knowing it, by attacking the Coyote. But now the plan did
+not work at all, for the little Dog managed to keep after him
+through one fence after another, and Jack Warhorse, not yet
+full-grown, much less seasoned, was beginning to feel the strain.
+His ears were no longer up straight, but angling back and at
+times drooping to a level, as he darted through a very little
+hole in an Osage hedge, only to find that his nimble enemy had
+done the same without loss of time. In the middle of the field
+was a small herd of cattle and with them a calf.
+
+There is in wild animals a curious impulse to trust any stranger
+when in desperate straits. The foe behind they know means death.
+There is just a chance, and the only one left, that the stranger
+may prove friendly; and it was this last desperate chance that
+drew Jack Warhorse to the Cows.
+
+It is quite sure that the Cows would have stood by in stolid
+indifference so far as the Rabbit was concerned, but they have a
+deep-rooted hatred of a dog, and when they saw the Yellow Cur
+coming bounding toward them, their tails and noses went up; they
+sniffed angrily, then closed up ranks, and led by the Cow that
+owned the Calf, they charged at the Dog, while Jack took refuge
+under a low thorn-bush. The Dog swerved aside to attack the Calf,
+at least the old Cow thought he did, and she followed him so
+fiercely that he barely escaped from that field with his life.
+
+It was a good old plan--one that doubtless came from the days
+when Buffalo and Coyote played the parts of Cow and Dog. Jack
+never forgot it, and more than once it saved his life.
+
+In color as well as in power he was a rarity. 
+
+Animals are colored in one or other of two general plans: one
+that matches them with their surroundings and helps them to
+hide--this is called "protective"; the other that makes them very
+visible for several purposes--this is called "directive."
+Jack-rabbits are peculiar in being painted both ways. As they
+squat in their form in the gray brush or clods, they are soft
+gray on their ears, head, back, and sides; they match the ground
+and cannot be seen until close at hand--they are protectively
+colored. But the moment it is clear to the Jack that the
+approaching foe will find him, he jumps up and dashes away. He
+throws off all disguise now, the gray seems to disappear; he
+makes a lightning change, and his ears show snowy white with
+black tips, the legs are white, his tail is a black spot in a
+blaze of white. He is a black-and-white Rabbit now. His coloring
+is all directive. How is it done? Very simply. The front side of
+the ear is gray, the back, black and white. The black tail with
+its white halo, and the legs, are tucked below. He is sitting on
+them. The gray mantle is pulled down and enlarged as he sits, but
+when he jumps up it shrinks somewhat, all his black-and-white
+marks are now shown, and just as his colors formerly whispered,
+"I am a clod," they now shout aloud, "I am a Jack-rabbit."
+
+Why should he do this? Why should a timid creature running for
+his life thus proclaim to all the world his name instead of
+trying to hide? There must be some good reason. It must pay, or
+the Rabbit would never have done it.
+
+The answer is, if the creature that scared him up was one of his
+own kind--i.e., this was a false alarm--then at once, by showing
+his national colors, the mistake is made right. On the other
+hand, if it be a Coyote, Fox, or Dog, they see at once, this is a
+Jack-rabbit, and know that it would be waste of time for them to
+pursue him. They say in effect, "This is a Jack-rabbit, and I
+cannot catch a Jack in open race." They give it up, and that, of
+course, saves the Jack a great deal of unnecessary running and
+worry. The black-and-white spots are the national uniform and
+flag of the Jacks. In poor specimens they are apt to be dull, but
+in the finest specimens they are not only larger, but brighter
+than usual, and the Little Warhorse, gray when he sat in his
+form, blazed like charcoal and snow, when he flung his defiance
+to the Fox and buff Coyote, and danced with little effort before
+them, first a black-and-white Jack, then a little white spot, and
+last a speck of thistledown, before the distance swallowed him.
+
+Many of the farmers' Dogs had learned the lesson: "A grayish
+Rabbit you may catch, but a very black-and-white one is
+hopeless." They might, indeed, follow for a time, but that was
+merely for the fun of a chivvy, and his growing power often led
+Warhorse to seek the chase for the sake of a little excitement,
+and to take hazards that others less gifted were most careful to
+avoid.
+
+Jack, like all other wild animals, had a certain range or country
+which was home to him, and outside of this he rarely strayed. It
+was about three miles across, extending easterly from the centre
+of the village. Scattered through this he had a number of
+"forms," or "beds" as they are locally called. These were mere
+hollows situated under a sheltering bush or bunch of grass,
+without lining excepting the accidental grass and in-blown
+leaves. But comfort was not forgotten. Some of them were for hot
+weather; they faced the north, were scarcely sunk, were little
+more than shady places. Some for the cold weather were deep
+hollows with southern exposure, and others for the wet were well
+roofed with herbage and faced the west. In one or other of these
+he spent the day, and at night he went forth to feed with his
+kind, sporting and romping on the moonlight nights like a lot of
+puppy Dogs, but careful to be gone by sunrise, and safely tucked
+in a bed that was suited to the weather.
+
+The safest ground for the Jacks was among the farms, where not
+only Osage hedges, but also the newly arrived barb-wire, made
+hurdles and hazards in the path of possible enemies. But the
+finest of the forage is nearer to the village among the
+truck-farms--the finest of forage and the fiercest of dangers.
+Some of the dangers of the plains were lacking, but the greater
+perils of men, guns, Dogs, and impassable fences are much
+increased. Yet those who knew Warhorse best were not at all
+surprised to find that he had made a form in the middle of a
+market-gardener's melon-patch. A score of dangers beset him here,
+but there was also a score of unusual delights and a score of
+holes in the fence for times when he had to fly, with at least
+twoscore of expedients to help him afterward.
+
+
+III
+
+Newchusen was a typical Western town. Everywhere in it, were to
+be seen strenuous efforts at uglification, crowned with
+unmeasured success. The streets were straight level lanes without
+curves or beauty-spots. The houses were cheap and mean structures
+of flimsy boards and tar paper, and not even honest in their
+ugliness, for each of them was pretending to be something better
+than itself. One had a false front to make it look like two
+stories, another was of imitation brick, a third pretended to be
+a marble temple.
+
+But all agreed in being the ugliest things ever used as human
+dwellings, and in each could be read the owner's secret
+thought--to stand it for a year or so, then move out somewhere
+else. The only beauties of the place, and those unintentional,
+were the long lines of hand-planted shade-trees, uglified as far
+as possible with whitewashed trunks and croppy heads, but still
+lovable, growing, living things.
+
+The only building in town with a touch of picturesqueness was the
+grain elevator. It was not posing as a Greek temple or a Swiss
+chalet, but simply a strong, rough, honest, grain elevator. At
+the end of each street was a vista of the prairie, with its
+farm-houses, windmill pumps, and long lines of Osage-orange
+hedges. Here at least was something of interest--the gray-green
+hedges, thick, sturdy, and high, were dotted with their golden
+mock-oranges, useless fruit, but more welcome here than rain in a
+desert; for these balls were things of beauty, and swung on their
+long tough boughs they formed with the soft green leaves a
+color-chord that pleased the weary eye.
+
+Such a town is a place to get out of, as soon as possible, so
+thought the traveller who found himself laid over here for two
+days in late winter. He asked after the sights of the place. A
+white Muskrat stuffed in a case "down to the saloon"; old Baccy
+Bullin, who had been scalped by the Indians forty years ago; and
+a pipe once smoked by Kit Carson, proved unattractive, so he
+turned toward the prairie, still white with snow.
+
+A mark among the numerous Dog tracks caught his eye: it was the
+track of a large Jack-rabbit. He asked a passer-by if there were
+any Rabbits in town.
+
+"No, I reckon not. I never seen none," was the answer. A
+mill-hand gave the same reply, but a small boy with a bundle of
+newspapers said: "You bet there is; there's lots of them out
+there on the prairie, and they come in town a-plenty. Why,
+there's a big, big feller lives right round Si Kalb's
+melon-patch--oh, an awful big feller, and just as black and as
+white as checkers!" and thus he sent the stranger eastward on his
+walk.
+
+The "big, big, awful big one" was the Little Warhorse himself. He
+didn't live in Kalb's melon-patch; he was there only at odd
+times. He was not there now; he was in his west-fronting form or
+bed, because a raw east wind was setting in. It was due east of
+Madison Avenue, and as the stranger plodded that way the Rabbit
+watched him. As long as the man kept the road the Jack was quiet,
+but the road turned shortly to the north, and the man by chance
+left it and came straight on. Then the Jack saw trouble ahead.
+The moment the man left the beaten track, he bounded from his
+form, and wheeling, he sailed across the prairie due east.
+
+A Jack-rabbit running from its enemy ordinarily covers eight or
+nine feet at a bound, and once in five or six bounds, it makes an
+observation hop, leaping not along, but high in the air, so as to
+get above all herbage and bushes and take in the situation. A
+silly young Jack will make an observation hop as often as one in
+four, and so waste a great deal of time. A clever Jack will make
+one hop in eight or nine, do for observation. But Jack Warhorse
+as he sped, got all the information he needed, in one hop out of
+a dozen, while ten to fourteen feet were covered by each of his
+flying bounds. Yet another personal peculiarity showed in the
+trail he left. When a Cottontail or a Wood-hare runs, his tail is
+curled up tight on his back, and does not touch the snow. When a
+Jack runs, his tail hangs downward or backward, with the tip
+curved or straight, according to the individual; in some, it
+points straight down, and so, often leaves a little stroke behind
+the foot-marks. The Warhorse's tail of shining black, was of
+unusual length, and at every bound, it left in the snow, a long
+stroke, so long that that alone was almost enough to tell which
+Rabbit had made the track.
+
+Now some Rabbits seeing only a man without any Dog would have
+felt little fear, but Warhorse, remembering some former stinging
+experiences with a far-killer, fled when the foe was seventy-five
+yards away, and skimming low, he ran southeast to a fence that
+ran easterly. Behind this he went like a low-flying Hawk, till a
+mile away he reached another of his beds; and here, after an
+observation taken   as he stood on his heels, he settled again to
+rest. 
+
+But not for long. In twenty minutes his great megaphone ears, so
+close to the ground, caught a regular sound -crunch, crunch,
+crunch--the tramp of a human foot, and he started up to see the
+man with the shining stick in his hand, now drawing near.
+
+Warhorse bounded out and away for the fence. Never once did he
+rise to a "spy-hop" till the wire and rails were between him and
+his foe, an unnecessary precaution as it chanced, for the man was
+watching the trail and saw nothing of the Rabbit.
+
+Jack skimmed along, keeping low and looking out for other
+enemies. He knew now that the man was on his track, and the old
+instinct born of ancestral trouble with Weasels was doubtless
+what prompted him to do the double trail. He ran in a long,
+straight course to a distant fence, followed its far side for
+fifty yards, then doubling back he retraced his trail and ran off
+in a new direction till he reached another of his dens or forms.
+He had been out all night and was very ready to rest, now that
+the sun was ablaze on the snow; but he had hardly got the place a
+little warmed when the "tramp, tramp, tramp" announced the enemy,
+and he hurried away.
+
+After a half-a-mile run he stopped on a slight rise and marked
+the man still following, so he made a series of wonderful quirks
+in his trail, a succession of blind zigzags that would have
+puzzled most trailers; then running a hundred yards past a
+favorite form, he returned to it from the other side, and settled
+to rest, sure that now the enemy would be finally thrown off the
+scent.
+
+It was slower than before, but still it came--"tramp, tramp,
+tramp."
+
+Jack awoke, but sat still. The man tramped by on the trail one
+hundred yards in front of him, and as he went on, Jack sprang out
+unseen, realizing that this was an unusual occasion needing a
+special effort. They had gone in a vast circle around the home
+range of the Warhorse and now were less than a mile from the
+farm-house of the black Dog. There was that wonderful board fence
+with the happily planned hen-hole. It was a place of good
+memory--here more than once he had won, here especially he had
+baffled the Greyhound.
+
+These doubtless were the motive thoughts rather than any plan of
+playing one enemy against another, and Warhorse bounded openly
+across the snow to the fence of the big black Dog.
+
+The hen-hole was shut, and Warhorse, not a little puzzled,
+sneaked around to find another, without success, until, around
+the front, here was the gate wide open, and inside lying on some
+boards was the big Dog, fast asleep. The Hens were sitting
+hunched up in the warmest corner of the yard. The house Cat was
+gingerly picking her way from barn to kitchen, as Warhorse halted
+in the gateway.
+
+The black form of his pursuer was crawling down the far white
+prairie slope. Jack hopped quietly into the yard. A long-legged
+Rooster, that ought to have minded his own business, uttered a
+loud cackle as he saw the Rabbit hopping near. The Dog lying in
+the sun raised his head and stood up, and Jack's peril was dire.
+He squatted low and turned himself into a gray clod. He did it
+cleverly, but still might have been lost but for the Cat.
+Unwittingly, unwillingly, she saved him. The black Dog had taken
+three steps toward the Warhorse, though he did not know the
+Rabbit was there, and was now blocking the only way of escape
+from the yard, when the Cat came round the corner of the house,
+and leaping to a window-ledge brought a flower-pot rolling down.
+By that single awkward act she disturbed the armed neutrality
+existing between herself and the Dog. She fled to the barn, and
+of course a flying foe is all that is needed to send a Dog on the
+war-path. They passed within thirty feet of the crouching Rabbit.
+As soon as they were well gone, Jack turned, and with-out even a
+"Thank you, Pussy," he fled to the open and away on the
+hard-beaten road.
+
+The Cat had been rescued by the lady of the house; the Dog was
+once more sprawling on the boards when the man on Jack's trail
+arrived. He carried, not a gun, but a stout stick, sometimes
+called "dog-medicine," and that was all that prevented the Dog
+attacking the enemy of his prey.
+
+This seemed to be the end of the trail. The trick, whether
+planned or not, was a success, and the Rabbit got rid of his
+troublesome follower.
+
+Next day the stranger made another search for the Jack and found,
+not himself, but his track. He knew it by its tail-mark, its long
+leaps and few spy-hops, but with it and running by it was the
+track of a smaller Rabbit. Here is where they met, here they
+chased each other in play, for no signs of battle were there to
+be seen; here they fed or sat together in the sun, there they
+ambled side by side, and here again they sported in the snow,
+always together. There was only one conclusion: this was the
+mating season. This was a pair of Jack-rabbits--the Little
+Warhorse and his mate.
+
+
+IV
+
+Next summer was a wonderful year for the Jack-rabbits. A foolish
+law had set a bounty on Hawks and Owls and had caused a general
+massacre of these feathered policemen. Consequently the Rabbits
+had multiplied in such numbers that they now were threatening to
+devastate the country.
+
+The farmers, who were the sufferers from the bounty law, as well
+as the makers of it, decided on a great Rabbit drive. All the
+county was invited to come, on a given morning, to the main road
+north of the county, with the intention of sweeping the whole
+region up-wind and at length driving the Rabbits into a huge
+corral of close wire netting. Dogs were barred as unmanageable,
+and guns as dangerous in a crowd; but every man and boy carried a
+couple of long sticks and a bag full of stones. Women came on
+horseback and in buggies; many carried rattles or horns and tins
+to make a noise. A number of the buggies trailed a string of old
+cans or tied laths to scrape on the wheel-spokes, and thus add no
+little to the deafening clatter of the drive. As Rabbits have
+marvellously sensitive hearing, a noise that is distracting to
+mankind, is likely to prove bewildering to them.
+
+The weather was right, and at eight in the morning the word to
+advance was given. The line was about five miles long at first,
+and there was a man or a boy every thirty or forty yards. The
+buggies and riders kept perforce almost entirely to the roads;
+but the beaters were supposed, as a point of honor, to face
+everything, and keep the front unbroken. The advance was roughly
+in three sides of a square. Each man made as much noise as he
+could, and threshed every bush in his path. A number of Rabbits
+hopped out. Some made for the lines, to be at once assailed by a
+shower of stones that laid many of them low. One or two did get
+through and escaped, but the majority were swept before the
+drive. At first the number seen was small, but before three miles
+were covered the Rabbits were running ahead in every direction.
+After five miles--and that took about three hours--the word for
+the wings to close in was given. The space between the men was
+shortened up till they were less than ten feet apart, and the
+whole drive converged on the corral with its two long guide wings
+or fences; the end lines joined these wings, and the surround was
+complete. The drivers marched rapidly now; scores of the Rabbits
+were killed as they ran too near the beaters. Their bodies
+strewed the ground, but the swarms seemed to increase; and in the
+final move, before the victims were cooped up in the corral, the
+two-acre space surrounded was a whirling throng of skurrying,
+jumping, bounding Rabbits. Round and round they circled and
+leaped, looking for a chance to escape; but the inexorable crowd
+grew thicker as the ring grew steadily smaller, and the whole
+swarm was forced along the chute into the tight corral, some to
+squat stupidly in the middle, some to race round the outer wall,
+some to seek hiding in corners or under each other.
+
+And the Little Warhorse--where was he in all this? The drive had
+swept him along, and he had been one of the first to enter the
+corral. But a curious plan of selection had been established. The
+pen was to be a death-trap for the Rabbits, except the best, the
+soundest. And many were there that were unsound; those that think
+of all wild animals as pure and perfect things, would have been
+shocked to see how many halt, maimed, and diseased there were in
+that pen of four thousand or five thousand Jack-rabbits.
+
+It was a Roman victory--the rabble of prisoners was to be
+butchered. The choicest were to be reserved for the arena. The
+arena? Yes, that is the Coursing Park.
+
+In that corral trap, prepared beforehand for the Rabbits, were a
+number of small boxes along the wall, a whole series of them,
+five hundred at least, each large enough to hold one Jack.
+
+In the last rush of driving, the swiftest Jacks got first to the
+pen. Some were swift and silly; when once inside they rushed
+wildly round and round. Some were swift and wise; they quickly
+sought the hiding afforded by the little boxes; all of these were
+now full. Thus five hundred of the swiftest and wisest had been
+selected, in, not by any means an infallible way, but the
+simplest and readiest. These five hundred were destined to be
+coursed by Greyhounds. The surging mass of over four thousand
+were ruthlessly given to slaughter.
+
+Five hundred little boxes with five hundred bright-eyed
+Jack-rabbits were put on the train that day, and among them was
+Little Jack Warhorse.
+
+
+V
+
+Rabbits take their troubles lightly, and it is not to be supposed
+that any great terror was felt by the boxed Jacks, once the
+uproar of the massacre was over; and when they reached the
+Coursing Park near the great city and were turned out one by one,
+very gently,--yes, gently; the Roman guards were careful of their
+prisoners, being responsible for them,--the Jacks found little to
+complain of, a big inclosure with plenty of good food, and no
+enemies to annoy them.
+
+The very next morning their training began. A score of hatchways
+were opened into a much larger field--the Park. After a number of
+Jacks had wandered out through these doors a rabble of boys
+appeared and drove them back, pursuing them noisily until all
+were again in the smaller field, called the Haven. A few days of
+this taught the Jack-rabbits that when pursued their safety was
+to get back by one of the hatches into the Haven.
+
+Now the second lesson began. The whole band were driven out of a
+side door into a long lane which led around three sides of the
+Park to another inclosure at the far end. This was the Starting
+Pen. Its door into the arena--that is, the Park--was opened, the
+Rabbits driven forth, and then a mob of boys and Dogs in hiding,
+burst forth and pursued them across the open. The whole army went
+bobbing and bounding away, some of the younger ones soaring in a
+spy-hop, as a matter of habit; but low skimming ahead of them all
+was a gorgeous black-and-white one; clean-limbed and bright-eyed,
+he had attracted attention in the pen, but now in the field he
+led the band with easy lope that put him as far ahead of them all
+as they were ahead of the rabble of common Dogs.
+
+"Luk at thot, would ye--but ain't he a Little Warhorse?" shouted
+a villainous-looking Irish stable-boy, and thus he was named.
+When halfway across the course the Jacks remembered the Haven,
+and all swept toward it and in like a snow-cloud over the drifts.
+
+This was the second lesson--to lead straight for the Haven as
+soon as driven from the Pen. In a week all had learned it, and
+were ready for the great opening meet of the Coursing Club.
+
+The Little Warhorse was now well known to the grooms and
+hangers-on; his colors usually marked him clearly, and his
+leadership was in a measure recognized by the long-eared herd
+that fled with him. He figured more or less with the Dogs in the
+talk and betting of the men.
+
+"Wonder if old Dignam is going to enter Minkie this year?"
+
+"Faix, an' if he does I bet the Little Warhorse will take the
+gimp out av her an' her runnin' mate."
+
+"I'll bet three to one that my old Jen will pick the Warhorse up
+before he passes the grand stand," growled a dog-man.
+
+"An' it's meself will take thot bet in dollars," said Mickey,
+"an', moore than thot, Oi'll put up a hull month's stuff thot
+there ain't a dog in the mate thot kin turrn the Warrhorrse oncet
+on the hull coorse."
+
+So they wrangled and wagered, but each day, as they put the
+Rabbits through their paces, there were more of those who
+believed that they had found a wonderful runner in the Warhorse,
+one that would give the best Greyhounds something that is rarely
+seen, a straight stern chase from Start to Grand Stand and Haven.
+
+
+VI
+
+The first morning of the meet arrived bright and promising. The
+Grand Stand was filled with a city crowd. The usual types of a
+racecourse appeared in force. Here and there were to be seen the
+dog-grooms leading in leash single Greyhounds or couples,
+shrouded in blankets, but showing their sinewy legs, their snaky
+necks, their shapely heads with long reptilian jaws, and their
+quick, nervous yellow eyes--hybrids of natural force and human
+ingenuity, the most wonderful running-machines ever made of flesh
+and blood. Their keepers guarded them like jewels, tended them
+like babies, and were careful to keep them from picking up odd
+eatables, as well as prevent them smelling unusual objects or
+being approached by strangers. Large sums were wagered on these
+Dogs, and a cunningly placed tack, a piece of doctored meat, yes,
+an artfully compounded smell, has been known to turn a superb
+young runner into a lifeless laggard, and to the owner this might
+spell ruin. The Dogs entered in each class are paired off, as
+each contest is supposed to be a duel; the winners in the first
+series are then paired again. In each trial, a Jack is driven
+from the Starting-pen; close by in one leash are the rival Dogs,
+held by the slipper. As soon as the Hare is well away, the man
+has to get the Dogs evenly started and slip them together. On the
+field is the judge, scarlet-coated and well mounted. He follows
+the chase. The Hare, mindful of his training, speeds across the
+open, toward the Haven, in full view of the Grand Stand. The Dogs
+follow the Jack. As the first one comes near enough to be
+dangerous, the Hare balks him by dodging. Each time the Hare is
+turned, scores for the Dog that did it, and a final point is made
+by the kill.
+
+Sometimes the kill takes place within one hundred yards of the
+start--that means a poor Jack; mostly it happens in front of the
+Grand Stand; but on rare occasions it chances that the Jack goes
+sailing across the open Park a good half-mile and, by dodging for
+time, runs to safety in the Haven. Four finishes are possible: a
+speedy kill; a speedy winning of the Haven; new Dogs to relieve
+the first runners, who would suffer heart-collapse in the
+terrific strain of their pace, if kept up many minutes in hot
+weather; and finally, for Rabbits that by continued dodging defy
+and jeopardize the Dogs, and yet do not win the Haven, there is
+kept a loaded shotgun.
+
+There is just as much jockeying at a Kaskado coursing as at a
+Kaskado  horse-race, just as many attempts at fraud, and it is
+just as necessary to have the judge and slipper beyond suspicion.
+
+The day before the next meet a man of diamonds saw Irish
+Mickey--by chance. A cigar was all that visibly passed, but it
+had a green wrapper that was slipped off before lighting. Then a
+word: "If you wuz slipper to-morrow and it so came about that
+Dignam's Minkie gets done, wall,--it means another cigar."
+
+"Faix, an' if I wuz slipper I could load the dice so Minkie would
+flyer score a p'int, but her runnin' mate would have the same bad
+luck."
+
+"That so?" The diamond man looked interested. "All right--fix it
+so; it means two cigars."
+
+Slipper Slyman had always dealt on the square, had scorned many
+approaches--that was well known. Most believed in him, but there
+were some malcontents, and when a man with many gold seals
+approached the Steward and formulated charges, serious and
+well-backed, they must perforce suspend the slipper pending an
+inquiry, and thus Mickey Doo reigned in his stead.
+
+Mickey was poor and not over-scrupulous. Here was a chance to
+make a year's pay in a minute, nothing wrong about it, no harm to
+the Dog or the Rabbit either.
+
+One Jack-rabbit is much like another. Everybody knows that; it
+was simply a question of choosing your Jack.
+
+The preliminaries were over. Fifty Jacks had been run and killed.
+Mickey had done his work satisfactorily; a fair slip had been
+given to every leash. He was still in command as slipper. Now
+came the final for the cup--the cup and the large stakes.
+
+
+VII
+
+There were the slim and elegant Dogs awaiting their turn. Minkie
+and her rival were first. Everything had been fair so far, and
+who can say that what followed was unfair? Mickey could turn out
+which Jack he pleased.
+
+"Number three!" he called to his partner.
+
+Out leaped the Little Warhorse,--black and white his great ears,
+easy and low his five-foot bounds; gazing wildly at the unwonted
+crowd about the Park, he leaped high in one surprising spy-hop.
+
+"Hrrrrr!" shouted the slipper, and his partner rattled a stick on
+the fence. The Warhorse's bounds increased to eight or nine feet.
+
+"Hrrrrrr!" and they were ten or twelve feet. At thirty yards the
+Hounds were slipped--an even slip; some thought it could have
+been done at twenty yards.
+
+"Hrrrrrr! Hrrrrrrr!" and the Warhorse was doing fourteen-foot
+leaps, not a spy-hop among them.
+
+"Hrrrrr! "wonderful Dogs! how they sailed; but drifting ahead of
+them, like a white sea-bird or flying scud, was the Warhorse.
+Away past the Grand Stand. And the Dogs--were they closing the
+gap of start? Closing! It was lengthening! In less time than it
+takes to tell it, that black-and-white thistledown had drifted
+away through the Haven door,--the door so like that good old
+hen-hole,--and the Grey-hounds pulled up amidst a roar of
+derision and cheers for the Little Warhorse. How Mickey did
+laugh! How Dignam did swear! How the newspaper men did
+scribble--scribble--scribble!
+
+Next day there was a paragraph in all the papers: "WONDERFUL FEAT
+OF A JACKRABBIT. The Little Warhorse, as he has been styled,
+completely skunked two of the most famous Dogs on the turf," etc.
+
+There was a fierce wrangle among the dog-men. This was a tie,
+since neither had scored, and Minkie and her rival were allowed
+to run again; but that half-mile had been too hot, and they had
+no show for the cup.
+
+Mickey met "Diamonds" next day, by chance.
+
+"Have a cigar, Mickey."
+
+"Oi will thot, sor. Faix, thim's so foine; I'd loike two--thank
+ye, sor."
+
+
+VIII
+
+From that time the Little Warhorse became the pride of the Irish
+boy. Slipper Slyman had been honorably reinstated and Mickey
+reduced to the rank of Jack-starter, but that merely helped to
+turn his sympathies from the Dogs to the Rabbits, or rather to
+the Warhorse, for of all the five hundred that were brought in
+from the drive he alone had won renown. There were several that
+crossed the Park to run again another day, but he alone had
+crossed the course without getting even a turn. Twice a week the
+meets took place; forty or fifty Jacks were killed each time, and
+the five hundred in the pen had been nearly all eaten of the
+arena.
+
+The Warhorse had run each day, and as often had made the Haven.
+Mickey became wildly enthusiastic about his favorite's powers. He
+begot a positive affection for the clean-limbed racer, and
+stoutly maintained against all that it was a positive honor to a
+Dog to be disgraced by such a Jack.
+
+It is so seldom that a Rabbit crosses the track at all, that when
+Jack did it six times without having to dodge, the papers took
+note of it, and after each meet there appeared a notice: "The
+Little Warhorse crossed again today;  old-timers say it shows how
+our Dogs are deteriorating."
+
+After the sixth time the rabbit-keepers grew enthusiastic, and
+Mickey, commander-in-chief of the brigade, became intemperate in
+his admiration. "Be jabers, he has a right to be torned loose. He
+has won his freedom loike ivery Amerikin done," he added, by way
+of appeal to the patriotism of the Steward of the race, who was,
+of course, the real owner of the Jacks.
+
+"All right, Mick; if he gets across thirteen times you can ship
+him back to his native land," was the reply.
+
+"Shure now, an' won't you make it tin, sor?"
+
+"No, no; I need him to take the conceit out of some of the new
+Dogs that are coming."
+
+"Thirteen toimes and he is free, sor; it's a bargain."
+
+A new lot of Rabbits arrived about this time, and one of these
+was colored much like Little Warhorse. He had no such speed, but
+to prevent mistakes Mickey caught his favorite by driving him
+into one of the padded shipping-boxes, and proceeded with the
+gate-keeper's punch to earmark him. The punch was sharp; a clear
+star was cut out of the thin flap, when Mickey exclaimed: "Faix,
+an' Oi'll punch for ivery toime ye cross the coorse." So he cut
+six stars in a row. "Thayer now, Warrhorrse, shure it's a free
+Rabbit ye'll be when ye have yer thirteen stars like our flag of
+liberty hed when we got free."
+
+Within a week the Warhorse had vanquished the new Greyhounds and
+had stars enough to go round the right ear and begin on the left.
+In a week more the thirteen runs were completed, six stars in the
+left ear and seven in the right, and the newspapers had new
+material.
+
+"Whoop!" How Mickey hoorayed! "An' it's a free Jack ye are,
+Warrhorrse! Thirteen always wuz a lucky number. I never knowed it
+to fail."
+
+
+IX
+
+"Yes, I know I did," said the Steward. "But I want to give him
+one more run. I have a bet on him against a new Dog here. It
+won't hurt him now; he can do it. Oh, well. Here now, Mickey,
+don't you get sassy. One run more this afternoon. The Dogs run
+two or three times a day; why not the Jack?"
+
+"They're not shtakin' thayre loives, sor."
+
+"Oh, you get out."
+
+Many more Rabbits had been added to the pen,--big and small,
+peaceful and warlike,--and one big Buck of savage instincts,
+seeing Jack Warhorse's hurried dash into the Haven that morning,
+took advantage of the moment to attack him.
+
+At another time Jack would have thumped his skull, as he once did
+the Cat's, and settled the affair in a minute; but now it took
+several minutes, during which he himself got roughly handled; so
+when the afternoon came he was suffering from one or two bruises
+and stiffening wounds; not serious, indeed, but enough to lower
+his speed.
+
+The start was much like those of previous runs. The Warhorse
+steaming away low and lightly, his ears up and the breezes
+whistling through his thirteen stars.
+
+Minkie with Fango, the new Dog, bounded in eager pursuit, but, to
+the surprise of the starters, the gap grew smaller. The Warhorse
+was losing ground, and right before the Grand Stand old Minkie
+turned him, and a cheer went up from the dog-men, for all knew
+the runners. Within fifty yards Fango scored a turn, and the race
+was right back to the start. There stood Slyman and Mickey. The
+Rabbit dodged, the Greyhounds plunged; Jack could not get away,
+and just as the final snap seemed near, the Warhorse leaped
+straight for Mickey, and in an instant was hidden in his arms,
+while the starter's feet flew out in energetic kicks to repel the
+furious Dogs. It is not likely that the Jack knew Mickey for a
+friend; he only yielded to the old instinct to fly from a certain
+enemy to a neutral or a possible friend, and, as luck would have
+it, he had wisely leaped and well. A cheer went up from the
+benches as Mickey hurried back with his favorite. But the dog-men
+protested "it wasn't a fair run--they wanted it finished." They
+appealed to the Steward. He had backed the Jack against Fango. He
+was sore now, and ordered a new race.
+
+An hour's rest was the best Mickey could get for him. Then he
+went as before, with Fango and Minkie in pursuit. He seemed less
+stiff now--he ran more like himself; but a little past the Stand
+he was turned by Fango and again by Minkie, and back and across,
+and here and there, leaping frantically and barely eluding his
+foes. For several minutes it lasted. Mickey could see that Jack's
+ears were sinking. The new Dog leaped. Jack dodged almost under
+him to escape, and back only to meet the second Dog; and now both
+ears were flat on his back. But the Hounds were suffering too.
+Their tongues were lolling out; their jaws and heaving sides were
+splashed with foam. The Warhorse's ears went up again. His
+courage seemed to revive in their distress. He made a straight
+dash for the Haven; but the straight dash was just what the
+Hounds could do, and within a hundred yards he was turned again,
+to begin another desperate game of zigzag. Then the dog-men saw
+danger for their Dogs, and two new ones were slipped--two fresh
+Hounds; surely they could end the race. But they did not. The
+first two were vanquished--gasping--out of it, but the next two
+were racing near. The Warhorse put forth all his strength. He
+left the first two far behind--was nearly to the Haven when the
+second two came up.
+
+Nothing but dodging could save him now. His ears were sinking,
+his heart was pattering on his ribs, but his spirit was strong.
+He flung himself in wildest zigzags. The Hounds tumbled over each
+other. Again and again they thought they had him. One of them
+snapped off the end of his long black tail, yet he escaped; but
+he could not get to the Haven. The luck was against him. He was
+forced nearer to the Grand Stand. A thousand ladies were
+watching. The time limit was up. The second Dogs were suffering,
+when Mickey came running, yelling like a
+madman--words--imprecations--crazy sounds:
+
+"Ye blackguard hoodlums! Ye dhirty, cowardly bastes!" and he
+rushed furiously at the Dogs, intent to do them bodily harm.
+
+Officers came running and shouting, and Mickey, shrieking hatred
+and defiance, was dragged from the field, reviling Dogs and men
+with every horrid, insulting name he could think of or invent.
+
+"Fair play! Whayer's yer fair play, ye liars, ye dhirty cheats,
+ye bloody cowards!" And they drove him from the arena. The last
+he saw of it was the four foaming Dogs feebly dodging after a
+weak and worn-out Jack-rabbit, and the judge on his Horse
+beckoning to the man with the gun.
+
+The gate closed behind him, and Mickey heard a bang-bang, an
+unusual uproar mixed with yelps of Dogs, and he knew that Little
+Jack Warhorse had been served with finish No. 4.
+
+All his life he had loved Dogs, but his sense of fair play was
+outraged. He could not get in, nor see in from where he was. He
+raced along the lane to the Haven, where he might get a good
+view, and arrived in time to see--Little Jack Warhorse with his
+half-masted ears limp into the Haven; and he realized at once
+that the man with the gun had missed, had hit the wrong runner,
+for there was the crowd at the Stand watching two men who were
+carrying a wounded Greyhound, while a veterinary surgeon was
+ministering to another that was panting on the ground.
+
+Mickey looked about, seized a little shipping-box, put it at the
+angle of the Haven, carefully drove the tired thing into it,
+closed the lid, then, with the box under his arm, he scaled the
+fence unseen in the confusion and was gone.
+
+'It didn't matter; he had lost his job anyway.' He tramped away
+from the city. He took the train at the nearest station and
+travelled some hours, and now he was in Rabbit country again. The
+sun had long gone down; the night with its stars was over the
+plain when among the farms, the Osage and alfalfa, Mickey
+Doo opened the box and gently put the Warhorse out.
+
+Grinning as he did so, he said: "Shure an' it's ould Oireland
+thot's proud to set the thirteen stars at liberty wance moore."
+
+For a moment the Little Warhorse gazed in doubt, then took three
+or four long leaps and a spy-hop to get his bearings. Now
+spreading his national colors and his honor-marked ears, he
+bounded into his hard-won freedom, strong as ever, and melted
+into the night of his native plain.
+
+He has been seen many times in Kaskado, and there have been many
+Rabbit drives in that region, but he seems to know some means of
+baffling them now, for, in all the thousands that have been
+trapped and corralled, they have never since seen the
+star-spangled ears of Little jack Warhorse.
+
+
+SNAP
+
+THE STORY OF A BULL-TERRIER
+
+I
+
+It was dusk on Hallowe'en when first I saw him. Early in the
+morning I had received a telegram from my college chum Jack:
+"Lest we forget. Am sending you a remarkable pup. Be polite to
+him; it's safer." It would have been just like Jack to have sent
+an infernal machine or a Skunk rampant and called it a pup, so I
+awaited the hamper with curiosity. When it arrived I saw it was
+marked "Dangerous," and there came from within a high-pitched
+snarl at every slight provocation. On peering through the wire
+netting I saw it was not a baby Tiger but a small white
+Bull-terrier. He snapped at me and at any one or anything that
+seemed too abrupt or too near for proper respect, and his
+snarling growl was unpleasantly frequent. Dogs have two growls:
+one deep-rumbled, and chesty; that is polite warning--the retort
+courteous; the other mouthy and much higher in pitch: this is the
+last word before actual onslaught. The Terrier's growls were all
+of the latter kind. I was a dog-man and thought I knew all about
+Dogs, so, dismissing the porter, I got out my all-round
+jackknife--toothpick--nailhammer-hatchet-toolbox-fire-shovel, a
+specialty of our firm, and lifted the netting. Oh, yes, I knew
+all about Dogs. The little fury had been growling out a
+whole-souled growl for every tap of the tool, and when I turned
+the box on its side, he made a dash straight for my legs. Had not
+his foot gone through the wire netting and held him, I might have
+been hurt, for his heart was evidently in his work; but I stepped
+on the table out of reach and tried to reason with him. I have
+always believed in talking to animals. I maintain that they
+gather something of our intention at least, even if they do not
+understand our words; but the Dog evidently put me down for a
+hypocrite and scorned my approaches. At first he took his post
+under the table and kept up a circular watch for a leg trying to
+get down. I felt sure I could have controlled him with my eye,
+but I could not bring it to bear where I was, or rather where he
+was; thus I was left a prisoner. I am a very cool person, I
+flatter myself; in fact, I represent a hardware firm, and, in
+coolness, we are not excelled by any but perhaps the nosy
+gentlemen that sell wearing-apparel. I got out a cigar and smoked
+tailor-style on the table, while my little tyrant below kept
+watch for legs. I got out the telegram and read it: "Remarkable
+pup. Be polite to him; it's safer." I think it was my coolness
+rather than my politeness that did it, for in half an hour the
+growling ceased. In an hour he no longer jumped at a newspaper
+cautiously pushed over the edge to test his humor; possibly the
+irritation of the cage was wearing off, and by the time I had lit
+my third cigar, he waddled out to the fire and lay down; not
+ignoring me, however, I had no reason to complain of that kind of
+contempt. He kept one eye on me, and I kept both eyes, not on
+him, but on his stumpy tail. If that tail should swing sidewise
+once I should feel I was winning; but it did not swing. I got a
+book and put in time on that table till my legs were cramped and
+the fire burned low. About 10 P.M. it was chilly, and at
+half-past ten the fire was out. My Hallowe'en present got up,
+yawned and stretched, then walked under my bed, where he found a
+fur rug. By stepping lightly from the table to the dresser, and
+then on to the mantel-shelf, I also reached bed, and, very
+quietly undressing, got in without provoking any criticism from
+my master. I had not yet fallen asleep when I heard a slight
+scrambling and felt "thump-thump" on the bed, then over my feet
+and legs; Snap evidently had found it too cool down below, and
+proposed to have the best my house afforded.
+
+He curled up on my feet in such a way that I was very
+uncomfortable and tried to readjust matters, but the slightest
+wriggle of my toe was enough to make him snap at it so fiercely
+that nothing but thick woollen bedclothes saved me from being
+maimed for life.
+
+I was an hour moving my feet--a hair's-breadth at a time--till
+they were so that I could sleep in comfort; and I was awakened
+several times during the night by angry snarls from the Dog--I
+suppose because I dared to move a toe without his approval,
+though once I believe he did it simply because I was snoring.
+
+In the morning I was ready to get up before Snap was. You see, I
+call him   Snap-Ginger-snap in full. Some Dogs are hard to name,
+and some do not seem to need it--they name themselves.
+
+I was ready to rise at seven. Snap was not ready till eight, so
+we rose at eight. He had little to say to the man who made the
+fire. He allowed me to dress without doing it on the table. As I
+left the room to get breakfast, I remarked:
+
+"Snap, my friend, some men would whip you into a different way,
+but I think I know a better plan. The doctors nowadays favor the
+'no-breakfast cure.' I shall try that."
+
+It seemed cruel, but I left him without food all day. It cost me
+something to repaint the door where he scratched it, but at night
+he was quite ready to accept a little food at my hands.
+
+In a week we were very good friends. He would sleep on my bed now
+and allow me to move my feet without snapping at them, intent to
+do me serious bodily harm. The no-breakfast cure had worked
+wonders; in three months we were--well, simply man and Dog, and
+he amply justified the telegram he came with.
+
+He seemed to be without fear. If a small Dog came near, he would
+take not the slightest notice; if a medium-sized Dog, he would
+stick his stub of a tail rigidly up in the air, then walk around
+him, scratching contemptuously with his hind feet, and looking at
+the sky, the distance, the ground, anything but the Dog, and
+noting his presence only by frequent high-pitched growls. If the
+stranger did not move on at once, the battle began, and then the
+stranger usually moved on very rapidly. Snap sometimes got
+worsted, but no amount of sad experience could ever inspire him
+with a grain of caution. Once, while riding in a cab during the
+Dog Show, Snap caught sight of an elephantine St. Bernard taking
+an airing. Its size aroused such enthusiasm in the Pup's little
+breast that he leaped from the cab window to do battle, and broke
+his leg.
+
+Evidently fear had been left out of his make-up and its place
+supplied with an extra amount of ginger, which was the reason of
+his full name. He differed from all other Dogs I have ever known.
+For example, if a boy threw a stone at him, he ran, not away, but
+toward the boy, and if the crime was repeated, Snap took the law
+into his own hands; thus he was at least respected by all. Only
+myself and the porter at the office seemed to realize his good
+points, and we only were admitted to the high honor of personal
+friendship, an honor which I appreciated more as months went on,
+and by midsummer not Carnegie, Vanderbilt, and Astor together
+could have raised money enough to buy a quarter of a share in my
+little Dog Snap.
+
+
+II
+
+Though not a regular traveller, I was ordered out on the road in
+the autumn, and then Snap and the landlady were left together,
+with unfortunate developments. Contempt on his part--fear on
+hers; and hate on both.
+
+I was placing a lot of barb-wire in the northern tier of States.
+My letters were forwarded once a week, and I got several
+complaints from the landlady about Snap.
+
+Arrived at Mendoza, in North Dakota, I found a fine market for
+wire. Of course my dealings were with the big storekeepers, but I
+went about among the ranchmen to get their practical views on the
+different styles, and thus I met the Penroof Brothers'
+Cow-outfit.
+
+One cannot be long in Cow country now without hearing a great
+deal about the depredations of the ever wily and destructive
+Gray-wolf. The day has gone by when they can be poisoned
+wholesale, and they are a serious drain on the rancher's profits.
+The Penroof Brothers, like most live cattle-men, had given up all
+attempts at poisoning and trapping, and were trying various
+breeds of Dogs as Wolf-hunters, hoping to get a little sport out
+of the necessary work of destroying the pests.
+
+Foxhounds had failed--they were too soft for fighting; Great
+Danes were too clumsy, and Greyhounds could not follow the game
+unless they could see it. Each breed had some fatal defect, but
+the cow-men hoped to succeed with a mixed pack, and the day when
+I was invited to join in a Mendoza Wolf-hunt, I was amused by the
+variety of Dogs that followed. There were several mongrels, but
+there were also a few highly bred Dogs--in particular, some
+Russian Wolfhounds that must have cost a lot of money.
+
+Hilton Penroof, the oldest boy, "The Master of Hounds," was
+unusually proud of them, and expected them to do great things.
+
+"Greyhounds are too thin-skinned to fight a Wolf, Danes are too
+slow, but you'll see the fur fly when the Russians take a hand."
+
+Thus the Greyhounds were there as runners, the Danes as heavy
+backers, and the Russians to do the important fighting. There
+were also two or three Foxhounds, whose fine noses were relied on
+to follow the trail if the game got out of view.
+
+It was a fine sight as we rode away among the Badland Buttes that
+October day. The air was bright and crisp, and though so late,
+there was neither snow nor frost. The Horses were fresh, and once
+or twice showed me how a Cow-pony tries to get rid of his rider.
+
+The Dogs were keen for sport, and we did start one or two gray
+spots in the plain that Hilton said were Wolves or Coyotes. The
+Dogs trailed away at full cry, but at night, beyond the fact that
+one of the Greyhounds had a wound on his shoulder, there was
+nothing to show that any of them had been on a Wolf-hunt.
+
+It's my opinion yer fancy Russians is no good, Hilt," said
+Garvin, the younger brother. "I'll back that little black Dane
+against the lot, mongrel an' all as he is."
+
+"I don't unnerstan' it," growled Hilton. "There ain't a Coyote,
+let alone a Gray-wolf, kin run away from them Greyhounds; them
+Foxhounds kin folly a trail three days old, an' the Danes could
+lick a Grizzly."
+
+"I reckon," said the father, "they kin run, an' they kin track,
+an' they kin lick a Grizzly, maybe, but the fac' is they don't
+want to tackle a Gray-wolf. The hull darn pack is scairt--an' I
+wish we had our money out o' them."
+
+Thus the men grumbled and discussed as I drove away and left
+them.
+
+There seemed only one solution of the failure. The Hounds were
+swift and strong, but a Gray-wolf seems to terrorize all Dogs.
+They have not the nerve to face him, and so, each time he gets
+away, and my thoughts flew back to the fearless little Dog that
+had shared my bed for the last year. How I wished he was out
+here, then these lubberly giants of Hounds would find a leader
+whose nerve would not fail at the moment of trial.
+
+At Baroka, my next stop, I got a batch of mail including two
+letters from the landlady; the first to say that "that beast of a
+Dog was acting up scandalous in my room," and the other still
+more forcible, demanding his immediate removal.
+"Why not have him expressed to Mendoza?" I thought. "It's only
+twenty hours; they'll be glad to have him. I can take him home
+with me when I go through."
+
+
+III
+
+My next meeting with Gingersnap was not as different from the
+first as one might have expected. He jumped on me, made much
+vigorous pretense to bite, and growled frequently, but it was a
+deep-chested growl and his stump waggled hard.
+
+The Penroofs had had a number of Wolf-hunts since I was with
+them, and were much disgusted at having no better success than
+before. The Dogs could find a Wolf nearly every time they went
+out, but they could not kill him, and the men were not near
+enough at the finish to learn why.
+
+Old Penroof was satisfied that "thar wasn't one of the hull
+miserable gang that had the grit of a Jack-rabbit."
+
+We were off at dawn the next day--the same procession of fine
+Horses and superb riders; the big blue Dogs, the yellow Dogs, the
+spotted Dogs, as before; but there was a new feature, a little
+white Dog that stayed close by me, and not only any Dogs, but
+Horses that came too near were apt to get a surprise from his
+teeth. I think he quarrelled with every man, Horse, and Dog in
+the country, with the exception of a Bull-terrier belonging to
+the Mendoza hotel man. She was the only one smaller than himself,
+and they seemed very good friends.
+
+I shall never forget the view of the hunt I had that day. We were
+on one of those large, flat-headed buttes that give a kingdom to
+the eye, when Hilton, who had been scanning the vast country with
+glasses, exclaimed: "I see him. There he goes, toward Skull
+Creek. Guess it's a Coyote."
+
+Now the first thing is to get the Greyhounds to see the prey--not
+an easy matter, as they cannot use the glasses, and the ground
+was covered with sage-brush higher than the Dogs' heads.
+
+But Hilton called, "Hu, hu, Dander," and leaned aside from his
+saddle, holding out his foot at the same time. With one agile
+bound Dander leaped to the saddle and there stood balancing on
+the Horse while Hilton kept pointing. "There he is, Dander; sic
+him--see him down there." The Dog gazed earnestly where his
+master pointed, then seeming to see, he sprang to the ground with
+a slight yelp and sped away. The other Dogs followed after, in an
+ever-lengthening procession, and we rode as hard as we could
+behind them, but losing time, for the ground was cut with
+gullies, spotted with badger-holes, and covered with rocks and
+sage that made full speed too hazardous.
+
+We all fell behind, and I was last, of course, being least
+accustomed to the saddle. We got several glimpses of the Dogs
+flying over the level plain or dropping from sight in gullies to
+reappear at the other side. Dander, the Greyhound, was the
+recognized leader, and as we mounted another ridge we got sight
+of the whole chase--a Coyote at full speed, the Dogs a quarter of
+a mile behind, but gaining. When next we saw them the Coyote was
+dead, and the Dogs sitting around panting, all but two of the
+Foxhounds and Gingersnap.
+
+"Too late for the fracas," remarked Hilton, glancing at these
+last Foxhounds. Then he proudly petted Dander. "Didn't need yer
+purp after all, ye see."
+
+"Takes a heap of nerve for ten big Dogs to face one little
+Coyote," remarked the father, sarcastically. "Wait till we run
+onto a Gray."
+
+Next day we were out again, for I made up my mind to see it to a
+finish.
+
+From a high point we caught sight of a moving speck of gray. A
+moving white speck stands for Antelope, a red speck for Fox, a
+gray speck for either Gray-wolf or Coyote, and which of these is
+determined by its tail. If the glass shows the tail down, it is a
+Coyote; if up, it is the hated Gray-wolf.
+
+Dander was shown the game as before and led the motley mixed
+procession--as he had before--Greyhounds, Wolfhounds, Foxhounds,
+Danes, Bull-terrier, horsemen. We got a momentary view of the
+pursuit; a Gray-wolf it surely was, loping away ahead of the
+Dogs. Somehow I thought the first Dogs were not running so fast
+now as they had after the Coyote. But no one knew the finish of
+the hunt. The Dogs came back to us one by one, and we saw no more
+of that Wolf.
+
+Sarcastic remarks and recrimination were now freely indulged in
+by the hunters.
+
+"Pah--scairt, plumb scairt," was the father's disgusted comment
+on the pack. 
+"They could catch up easy enough, but when he turned on them,
+they lighted out for home--pah!"
+
+"Where's that thar onsurpassable, fearless, scaired-o'-nort
+Tarrier?" asked Hilton, scornfully.
+ 
+"I don't know," said I. "I am inclined to think he never saw the
+Wolf; but if he ever does, I'll bet he sails in for death or
+glory."
+
+That night several Cows were killed close to the ranch, and we
+were spurred on to another hunt.
+
+It opened much like the last. Late in the afternoon we sighted a
+gray fellow with tail up, not half a mile off. Hilton called
+Dander up on the saddle. I acted on the idea and called Snap to
+mine. His legs were so short that he had to leap several times
+before he made it, scrambling up at last with my foot as a
+half-way station. I pointed and "sic-ed" for a minute before he
+saw the game, and then he started out after the Greyhounds,
+already gone, with energy that was full of promise.
+
+The chase this time led us, not to the rough brakes along the
+river, but toward the high open country, for reasons that
+appeared later. We were close together as we rose to the upland
+and sighted the chase half a mile off, just as Dander came up
+with the Wolf and snapped at his haunch. The Gray-wolf turned
+round to fight, and we had a fine view. The Dogs came up by twos
+and threes, barking at him in a ring, till last the little white
+one rushed up. He wasted no time barking, but rushed straight at
+the Wolf's throat and missed it, yet seemed to get him by the
+nose; then the ten big Dogs closed in, and in two minutes the
+Wolf was dead. We had ridden hard to be in at the finish, and
+though our view was distant, we saw at least that Snap had lived
+up to the telegram, as well as to my promises for him.
+
+Now it was my turn to crow, and I did not lose the chance. Snap
+had shown them how, and at last the Mendoza pack had killed a
+Gray-wolf without help from the men.
+
+There were two things to mar the victory somewhat: first, it was
+a young Wolf, a mere Cub, hence his foolish choice of country;
+second, Snap was wounded--the Wolf had given him a bad cut in the
+shoulder.
+
+As we rode in proud procession home, I saw he limped a little.
+"Here," I cried, "come up, Snap." He tried once or twice to jump
+to the saddle, but could not. "Here, Hilton, lift him up to me."
+
+"Thanks; I'll let you handle your own rattlesnakes," was the
+reply, for all knew now that it was not safe to meddle with his
+person. "Here, Snap, take hold," I said, and held my quirt to
+him. He seized it, and by that I lifted him to the front of my
+saddle and so carried him home. I cared for him as though he had
+been a baby. He had shown those Cattle-men how to fill the weak
+place in their pack; the Foxhounds may be good and the Greyhounds
+swift and the Russians and Danes fighters, but they are no use at
+all without the crowning moral force of grit, that none can
+supply so well as a Bull-terrier. On that day the Cattlemen
+learned how to manage the Wolf question, as you will find if ever
+you are at Mendoza; for every successful Wolf pack there has with
+it a Bull-terrier, preferably of the Snap-Mendoza breed.
+
+
+IV
+
+Next day was Hallowe'en, the anniversary of Snap's advent. The
+weather was clear, bright, not too cold, and there was no snow on
+the ground. The men usually celebrated the day with a hunt of
+some sort, and now, of course, Wolves were the one object. To the
+disappointment of all, Snap was in bad shape with his wound. He
+slept, as usual, at my feet, and bloody stains now marked the
+place. He was not in condition to fight, but we were bound to
+have a Wolf-hunt, so he was beguiled to an outhouse and locked
+up, while we went off, I, at least, with a sense of impending
+disaster. I knew we should fail without my Dog, but I did not
+realize how bad a failure it was to be.
+
+Afar among the buttes of Skull Creek we had roamed when a white
+ball appeared bounding through the sage-brush, and in a minute
+more Snap came, growling and stump-waggling, up to my Horse's
+side. I could not send him back; he would take no such orders,
+not even from me. His wound was looking bad, so I called him,
+held down the quirt, and jumped him to my saddle.
+
+"There," I thought, "I'll keep you safe till we get home." 'Yes,
+I thought; but I reckoned not with Snap. The voice of Hilton,
+"Hu, hu," announced that he had sighted a Wolf. Dander and Riley,
+his rival, both sprang to the point of observation, with the
+result that they collided and fell together, sprawling, in the
+sage. But Snap, gazing hard, had sighted the Wolf, not so very
+far off, and before I knew it, he leaped from the saddle and
+bounded zigzag, high, low, in and under the sage, straight for
+the enemy, leading the whole pack for a few minutes. Not far, of
+course. The great Greyhounds sighted the moving speck, and the
+usual procession strung out on the plain. It promised to be a
+fine hunt, for the Wolf had less than half a mile start and all
+the Dogs were fully interested.
+
+"They 'ye turned up Grizzly Gully," cried Garvin. "This way, and
+we can head them off."
+
+So we turned and rode hard around the north side of Hulmer's
+Butte, while the chase seemed to go round the south.
+
+We galloped to the top of Cedar Ridge and were about to ride
+down, when Hilton shouted, "By George, here he is! We're right
+onto him." He leaped from his Horse, dropped the bridle, and ran
+forward. I did the same. A great Gray-wolf came lumbering across
+an open plain toward us. His head was low, his tail out level,
+and fifty yards behind him was Dander, sailing like a Hawk over
+the ground, going twice as fast as the Wolf. In a minute the
+Hound was alongside and snapped, but bounded back, as the Wolf
+turned on him. They were just below us now and not fifty feet
+away. Garvin drew his revolver, but in a fateful moment Hilton
+interfered: " No; no; let's see it out." In a few seconds the
+next Greyhound arrived, then the rest in order of swiftness. Each
+came up full of fight and fury, determined to go right in and
+tear the Gray-wolf to pieces; but each in turn swerved aside, and
+leaped and barked around at a safe distance. After a minute or so
+the Russians appeared--fine big Dogs they were.  Their distant
+intention no doubt was to dash right at the old Wolf; but his
+fearless front, his sinewy frame and death-dealing jaws, awed
+them long before they were near him, and they also joined the
+ring, while the desperado in the middle faced this way and that,
+ready for any or all.
+
+Now the Danes came up, huge-limbed creatures, any one of them as
+heavy as the Wolf.  I heard their heavy breathing tighten into a
+threatening sound as they plunged ahead; eager to tear the foe to
+pieces; but when they saw him there, grim fearless, mighty of
+jaw, tireless of limb, ready to die if need be, but sure of this,
+he would not die alone--well, those great Danes--all three of
+them--were stricken, as the rest had been, with a sudden
+bashfulness: Yes, they would go right in presently--not now, but
+as soon as they had got their breath; they were not afraid of a
+Wolf, oh, no.  I could read their courage in their voices.  They
+knew perfectly well that the first Dog to go in was going to get
+hurt, but never mind that--presently; they would bark a little
+more to get up enthusiasm.
+
+And as the ten big Dogs were leaping round the silent Wolf at
+bay, there was a rustling in the sage at the far side of place;
+then a snow-white rubber ball, it seemed, came bounding, but grew
+into a little Bull-terrier, and Snap, slowest of the pack, and
+last, came panting hard, so hard he seemed gasping.  Over the
+level open he made, straight to the changing ring around the
+Cattle-killer whom none dared face.  Did he hesitate? Not for an
+instant; through the ring of the yelping pack, straight for the
+old despot of range, right for his throat he sprang; and the
+Gray-wolf struck with his twenty scimitars. But the little one,
+if fooled at all, sprang again, and then what came I hardly knew.
+There was a whirling mass of Dogs. I thought I saw the little
+White One clinched on the Gray-wolf's nose. The pack was all
+around; we could not help them now.  But they did not need us;
+they had a leader of dauntless mettle, and when in a little while
+the final scene was done, there on the ground lay the Gray-wolf,
+a giant of his kind, and clinched on his nose was the little
+white Dog.
+
+We were standing around within fifteen feet, ready to help, but
+had no chance till were not needed.
+
+The Wolf was dead, and I hallooed to Snap, but he did not move. 
+I bent over him. "Snap--Snap, it's all over; you've killed him."
+But the Dog was very still, and now I saw two deep wounds in his
+body.  I tried to lift him. "Let go, old fellow; it's all over."
+He growled feebly, and at last go of the Wolf. The rough
+cattle-men were kneeling around him now; old Penroof's voice was
+trembling as he muttered, "I wouldn't had him hurt for twenty
+steers."  I lifted him in my arms, called to him and stroked his
+head.  He snarled a little, a farewell as it proved, for he
+licked my hand as he did so, then never snarled again.
+
+That was a sad ride home for me. There was the skin of a
+monstrous Wolf, but no other hint of triumph.  We buried the
+fearless one on a butte back of the
+Ranch-house.  Penroof, as he stood by, was heard to grumble: "By
+jingo, that was grit--cl'ar grit!  Ye can't raise Cattle without
+grit."
+
+
+THE WINNIPEG WOLF
+
+I
+
+It was during the great blizzard of 1882 that I first met the
+Winnipeg Wolf. I had left St. Paul in the middle of March to
+cross the prairies to Winnipeg, expecting to be there in
+twenty-four hours, but the Storm King had planned it otherwise
+and sent a heavy-laden eastern blast. The snow came down in a
+furious, steady torrent, hour after hour. Never before had I seen
+such a storm. All the world was lost in snow--snow, snow,
+snow--whirling, biting, stinging, drifting snow--and the puffing,
+monstrous engine was compelled to stop at the command of those
+tiny feathery crystals of spotless purity.
+
+Many strong hands with shovels came to the delicately curled
+snowdrifts that barred our way, and in an hour the engine could
+pass--only to stick in another drift yet farther on. It was
+dreary work--day after day, night after night, sticking in the
+drifts, digging ourselves out, and still the snow went whirling
+and playing about us.
+
+"Twenty-two hours to Emerson," said the official; but nearly two
+weeks of digging passed before we did reach Emerson, and the
+poplar country where the thickets stop all drifting of the snow.
+Thenceforth the train went swiftly, the poplar woods grew more
+thickly--we passed for miles through solid forests, then perhaps
+through an open space. As we neared St. Boniface, the eastern
+outskirts of Winnipeg, we dashed across a little glade fifty
+yards wide, and there in the middle was a group that stirred me
+to the very soul.
+
+In plain view was a great rabble of Dogs, large and small, black,
+white, and yellow, wriggling and heaving this way and that way in
+a rude ring; to one side was a little yellow Dog stretched and
+quiet in the snow; on the outer part of the ring was a huge black
+Dog bounding about and barking, but keeping ever behind the
+moving mob. And in the midst, the centre and cause of it all, was
+a great, grim, Wolf.
+
+Wolf? He looked like a Lion. There he stood, all
+alone--resolute-calm- with bristling mane, and legs braced
+firmly, glancing this way and that, to be ready for an attack in
+any direction. There was a curl on his lips--it looked like
+scorn, but I suppose it was really the fighting snarl of tooth
+display. Led by a wolfish-looking Dog that should have been
+ashamed, the pack dashed in, for the twentieth time no doubt. But
+the great gray form leaped here and there, and chop, chop, chop
+went those fearful jaws, no other sound from the lonely warrior;
+but a death yelp from more than one of his foes, as those that
+were able again sprang back, and left him statuesque as before,
+untamed, unmaimed, and contemptuous of them all.
+
+How I wished for the train to stick in a snowdrift now, as so
+often before, for all my heart went out to that Gray-wolf; I
+longed to go and help him. But the snow-deep glade flashed by,
+the poplar trunks shut out the view, and we went on to our
+journey's end.
+
+This was all I saw, and it seemed little; but before many days
+had passed I knew surely that I had been favored with a view, in
+broad daylight, of a rare and wonderful creature, none less than
+the Winnipeg Wolf.
+
+His was a strange history--a Wolf that preferred the city to the
+country, that passed by the Sheep to kill the Dogs, and that
+always hunted alone.
+
+In telling the story of le Garou, as he was called by some,
+although I speak of these things as locally familiar, it is very
+sure that to many citizens of the town they were quite unknown.
+The smug shopkeeper on the main street had scarcely heard of him
+until the day after the final scene at the slaughter-house, when
+his great carcass was carried to Hine's taxidermist shop and
+there mounted, to be exhibited later at the Chicago World's Fair,
+and to be destroyed, alas! in the fire that reduced the Mulvey
+Grammar School to ashes in 1896.
+
+
+II
+
+It seems that Fiddler Paul, the handsome ne'er-do-well of the
+half-breed world, readier to hunt than to work, was prowling with
+his gun along the wooded banks of the Red River by Kildonan, one
+day in the June of 1880. He saw a Gray-wo1f come out of a hole in
+a bank and fired a chance shot that killed it. Having made sure,
+by sending in his Dog, that no other large Wolf was there, he
+crawled into the den, and found, to his utter amazement and
+delight, eight young Wolves --nine bounties of ten dollars each.
+How much is that? A fortune surely. He used a stick vigorously,
+and with the assistance of the yellow Cur, all the little ones
+were killed but one. There is a superstition about the last of a
+brood--it is not lucky to kill it. So Paul set out for town with
+the scalp of the old Wolf, the scalps of the seven young, and the
+last Cub alive.
+
+The saloon-keeper, who got the dollars for which the scalps were
+exchanged, soon got the living Cub. He grew up at the end of a
+chain, but developed a chest and jaws that no Hound in town could
+match. He was kept in the yard for the amusement of customers,
+and this amusement usually took the form of baiting the captive
+with Dogs. The young Wolf was bitten and mauled nearly to death
+on several occasions, but he recovered, and each month there were
+fewer Dogs willing to face him. His life was as hard as it could
+be. There was but one gleam of gentleness in it all, and that was
+the friendship that grew up between himself and Little Jim, the
+son of the saloonkeeper.
+
+Jim was a wilful little rascal with a mind of his own. He took to
+the Wolf because it had killed a Dog that had bitten him. He
+thenceforth fed the Wolf and made a pet of it, and the Wolf
+responded by allowing him to take liberties which no one else
+dared venture.
+
+Jim's father was not a model parent. He usually spoiled his son,
+but at times would get in a rage and beat him cruelly for some
+trifle. The child was quick to learn that he was beaten, not
+because he had done wrong, but because he had made his father
+angry. If, therefore, he could keep out of the way until that
+anger had cooled, he had no further cause for worry. One day,
+seeking safety in flight with his father behind him, he dashed
+into the Wolf's kennel, and his grizzly chum thus unceremoniously
+awakened turned to the door, displayed a double row of ivories,
+and plainly said to the father: "Don't you dare to touch him."
+
+If Hogan could have shot the Wolf then and there he would have
+done so, but the chances were about equal of killing his son, so
+he let them alone and, half an hour later, laughed at the whole
+affair. Thenceforth Little Jim made for the Wolf's den whenever
+he was in danger, and sometimes the only notice any one had that
+the boy had been in mischief was seeing him sneak in behind the
+savage captive.
+
+Economy in hired help was a first principle with Hogan. Therefore
+his "barkeep" was a Chinaman. He was a timid, harmless creature,
+so Paul des Roches did not hesitate to bully him. One day,
+finding Hogan out, and the Chinaman alone in charge, Paul,
+already tipsy, demanded a drink on credit, and Tung Ling, acting
+on standing orders, refused. His artless explanation, "No good,
+neber pay," so far from clearing up the difficulty, brought Paul
+staggering back of the bar to avenge the insult. The Celestial
+might have suffered grievous bodily hurt, but that Little Jim was
+at hand and had a long stick, with which he adroitly tripped up
+the Fiddler and sent him sprawling. He staggered to his feet
+swearing he would have Jim's life. But the child was near the
+back door and soon found refuge in the Wolf's kennel.
+
+Seeing that the boy had a protector, Paul got the long stick, and
+from a safe distance began to belabor the Wolf, The grizzly
+creature raged at the end of the chain, but, though he parried
+many cruel blows by seizing the stick in his teeth, he was
+suffering severely, when Paul realized that Jim, whose tongue had
+not been idle, was fumbling away with nervous fingers to set the
+Wolf loose, and soon would succeed. Indeed, it would have been
+done already but for the strain that the Wolf kept on the chain.
+
+The thought of being in the yard at the mercy of the huge animal
+that he had so enraged, gave the brave Paul a thrill of terror.
+
+Jim's wheedling voice was heard -"Hold on now, Wolfie; back up
+just a little, and you shall have him. Now do; there's a good
+Wolfie"--that was enough; the Fiddler fled and carefully closed
+all doors behind him.
+
+Thus the friendship between Jim and his pet grew stronger, and
+the Wolf, as he developed his splendid natural powers, gave daily
+evidence also of the mortal hatred he bore to men that smelt of
+whiskey and to all Dogs, the causes of his sufferings. This
+peculiarity, coupled with his love for the child--and all
+children seemed to be included to some extent--grew with his
+growth and seemed to prove the ruling force of his life.
+
+
+III
+
+At this time--that is, the fall of 1881--there were great
+complaints among the Qu'Appelle ranchmen that the Wolves were
+increasing in their country and committing great depredations
+among the stock. Poisoning and trapping had proved failures, and
+when a distinguished German visitor appeared at the Club in
+Winnipeg and announced that he was bringing some Dogs that could
+easily rid the country of Wolves, he was listened to with unusual
+interest. For the cattle-men are fond of sport, and the idea of
+helping their business by establishing a kennel of Wolfhounds was
+very alluring.
+
+The German soon produced as samples of his Dogs, two magnificent
+Danes, one white, the other blue with black spots and a singular
+white eye that completed an expression of unusual ferocity. Each
+of these great creatures weighed nearly two hundred pounds. They
+were muscled like Tigers, and the German was readily believed
+when he claimed that these two alone were more than a match for
+the biggest Wolf. He thus described their method of hunting: "All
+you have to do is show them the trail and, even if it is a day
+old, away they go on it. They cannot be shaken off. They will
+soon find that Wolf, no matter how he doubles and hides. Then
+they close on him. He turns to run, the blue Dog takes him by the
+haunch and throws him like this," and the German jerked a roll of
+bread into the air; "then before he touches the ground the white
+Dog has his head, the other his tail, and they pull him apart
+like that."
+
+It sounded all right; at any rate every one was eager to put it
+to the proof. Several of the residents said there was a fair
+chance of finding a Gray-wolf along the Assiniboine, so a hunt
+was organized. But they searched in vain for three days and were
+giving it up when some one suggested that down at Hogan's saloon
+was a Wolf chained up, that they could get for the value of the
+bounty, and though little more than a year old he would serve to
+show what the Dogs could do.
+
+The value of Hogan's Wolf went up at once when he knew the
+importance of the occasion; besides, "he had conscientious
+scruples." All his scruples vanished, however, when his views as
+to price were met. His first care was to get Little Jim out of
+the way by sending him on an errand to his grandma's; then the
+Wolf was driven into his box and nailed in. The box was put in a
+wagon and taken to the open prairie along the Portage trail.
+
+The Dogs could scarcely be held back, they were so eager for the
+fray, as soon as they smelt the Wolf. But several strong men held
+their leash, the wagon was drawn half a mile farther, and the
+Wolf was turned out with some difficulty. At first he looked
+scared and sullen. He tried to get out of sight, but made no
+attempt to bite. However, on finding himself free, as well as
+hissed and hooted at, he started off at a slinking trot toward
+the south, where the land seemed broken. The Dogs were released
+at that moment, and, baying furiously, they bounded away after
+the young Wolf. The men cheered loudly and rode behind them. From
+the very first it was clear that he had no chance. The Dogs were
+much swifter; the white one could run like a Greyhound. The
+German was wildly enthusiastic as she flew across the prairie,
+gaining visibly on the Wolf at every second. Many bets were
+offered on the Dogs, but there were no takers. The only bets
+accepted were Dog against Dog. The young Wolf went at speed now,
+but within a mile the white Dog was right behind him--was closing
+in.
+
+The German shouted: "Now watch and see that Wolf go up in the
+air."
+
+In a moment the runners were together. Both recoiled, neither
+went up in the air, but the white Dog rolled over with a fearful
+gash in her shoulder--out of the fight, if not killed. Ten
+seconds later the Blue-spot arrived, open-mouthed. This meeting
+was as quick and almost as mysterious as the first. The animals
+barely touched each other. The gray one bounded aside, his head
+out of sight for a moment in the flash of quick movement. Spot
+reeled and showed a bleeding flank. Urged on by the men, he
+assaulted again, but only to get another wound that taught him to
+keep off.
+
+Now came the keeper with four more huge Dogs. They turned these
+loose, and the men armed with clubs and lassos were closing to
+help in finishing the Wolf, when a small boy came charging over
+the plain on a Pony. He leaped to the ground and wriggling
+through the ring flung his arms around the Wolf's neck. He called
+him his "Wolfie pet," his "dear Wolfie"--the Wolf licked his face
+and wagged its tail--then the child turned on the crowd and
+through his streaming tears, he--Well it would not do to print
+what he said. He was only nine, but he was very old-fashioned, as
+well as a rude little boy. He had been brought up in a low
+saloon, and had been an apt pupil at picking up the vile talk of
+the place. He cursed them one and all and for generations back;
+he did not spare even his own father.
+
+If a man had used such shocking and insulting language he might
+have been lynched, but coming from a baby, the hunters did not
+know what to do, so finally did the best thing. They laughed
+aloud--not at themselves, that is not considered good form--but
+they all laughed at the German whose wonderful Dogs had been
+worsted by a half-grown Wolf.
+
+Jimmie now thrust his dirty, tear-stained little fist down into
+his   very-much-of-a-boy's pocket, and from among marbles and
+chewing-gum, as well as tobacco, matches, pistol cartridges, and
+other contraband, he fished out a flimsy bit of grocer's twine
+and fastened it around the Wolf's neck. Then, still blubbering a
+little, he set out for home on the Pony, leading the Wolf and
+hurling a final threat and anathema at the German nobleman: "Fur
+two cents I'd sic him on you, gol darn ye."
+
+
+IV
+
+Early that winter Jimmie was taken down with a fever. The Wolf
+howled miserably in the yard when he missed his little friend,
+and finally on the boy's demand was admitted to the sick-room,
+and there this great wild Dog--for that is all a Wolf
+is--continued faithfully watching by his friend's bedside.
+
+The fever had seemed slight at first, so that every one was
+shocked when there came suddenly a turn for the worse, and three
+days before Christmas Jimmie died. He had no more sincere mourner
+than his "Wolfie." The great gray creature howled in miserable
+answer to the church-bell tolling when he followed the body on
+Christmas Eve to the graveyard at St. Boniface. He soon came back
+to the premises behind the saloon, but when an attempt was made
+to chain him again, he leaped a board fence and was finally lost
+sight of.
+
+Later that same winter old Renaud, the trapper, with his pretty
+half-breed daughter, Ninette, came to live in a little log-cabin
+on the river bank. He knew nothing about Jimmie Hogan, and he was
+not a little puzzled to find Wolf tracks and signs along the
+river on both sides between St. Boniface and Fort Garry. He
+listened with interest and doubt to tales that the Hudson Bay
+Company's men told of a great Gray-wolf that had come to live in
+the region about, and even to enter the town at night, and that
+was in particular attached to the woods about St. Boniface
+Church.
+
+On Christmas Eve of that year when the bell tolled again as it
+had done for Jimmie, a lone and melancholy howling from the woods
+almost convinced Renaud that the stories were true. He knew the
+wolf-cries--the howl for help, the love song, the lonely wail,
+and the sharp defiance of the Wolves. This was the lonely wail.
+
+The trapper went to the riverside and gave an answering howl. A
+shadowy form left the far woods and crossed on the ice to where
+the man sat, log-still, on a log. It came up near him, circled
+past and sniffed, then its eye glowed; it growled like a Dog that
+is a little angry, and glided back into the night.
+
+Thus Renaud knew, and before long many townfolk began to learn,
+that a huge Gray-wolf was living in their streets, "a Wolf three
+times as big as the one that used to be chained at Hogan's
+gin-mill." He was the terror of Dogs, killing them on all
+possible occasions, and some said, though it was never proven,
+that he had devoured more than one half-breed who was out on a
+spree.
+
+And this was the Winnipeg Wolf that I had seen that day in the
+wintry woods. I had longed to go to his help, thinking the odds
+so hopelessly against him, but later knowledge changed the
+thought. I do not know how that fight ended, but I do know that
+he was seen many times afterward and some of the Dogs were not.
+
+Thus his was the strangest life that ever his kind had known.
+Free of all the woods and plains, he elected rather to lead a
+life of daily hazard in the town--each week at least some close
+escape, and every day a day of daring deeds; finding momentary
+shelter at times under the very boardwalk crossings. Hating the
+men and despising the Dogs, he fought his daily way and held the
+hordes of Curs at bay or slew them when he found them few or
+single; harried the drunkard, evaded men with guns, learned
+traps--learned poison, too--just how, we cannot tell, but learn
+it he did, for he passed it again and again, or served it only
+with a Wolf's contempt.
+
+Not a street in Winnipeg that he did not know; not a policeman in
+Winnipeg that had not seen his swift and shadowy form in the gray
+dawn as he passed where he would; not a Dog in Winnipeg that did
+not cower and bristle when the telltale wind brought proof that
+old Garou was crouching near. His only path was the warpath, and
+all the world his foes. But throughout this lurid, semi-mythic
+record there was one recurring pleasant thought--Garou never was
+known to harm a child.
+
+
+V
+
+Ninette was a desert-born beauty like her Indian mother, but
+gray-eyed like her Normandy father, a sweet girl of sixteen, the
+belle of her set. She might have married any one of the richest
+and steadiest young men of the country, but of course, in
+feminine perversity her heart was set on that ne'er-do-well, Paul
+des Roches. A handsome fellow, a good dancer and a fair
+violinist, Fiddler Paul was in demand at all festivities, but he
+was a shiftless drunkard and it was even whispered that he had a
+wife already in Lower Canada. Renaud very properly dismissed him
+when he came to urge his suit, but dismissed him in vain.
+Ninette, obedient in all else, would not give up her lover. The
+very day after her father had ordered him away she promised to
+meet him in the woods just across the river. It was easy to
+arrange this, for she was a good Catholic, and across the ice to
+the church was shorter than going around by the bridge. As she
+went through the snowy wood to the tryst she noticed that a large
+gray Dog was following. It seemed quite friendly, and the child
+(for she was still that) had no fear, but when she came to the
+place where Paul was waiting, the gray Dog went forward rumbling
+in its chest. Paul gave one look, knew it for a huge Wolf, then
+fled like the coward he was. He afterward said he ran for his
+gun. He must have forgotten where it was, as he climbed the
+nearest tree to find it. Meanwhile Ninette ran home across the
+ice to tell Paul's friends of his danger. Not finding any
+firearms up the tree, the valiant lover made a spear by fastening
+his knife to a branch and succeeded in giving Garou a painful
+wound on the head. The savage, creature growled horribly but
+thenceforth kept at a safe distance, though plainly showing his
+intention to wait till the man came down. But the approach of a
+band of rescuers changed his mind, and he went away.
+
+Fiddler Paul found it easier to explain matters to Ninette than
+he would to any one else. He still stood first in her affections,
+but so hopelessly ill with her father that they decided on an
+elopement, as soon as he should return from Fort Alexander,
+whither he was to go for the Company, as dog-driver. The Factor
+was very proud of his train Dogs--three great Huskies with curly,
+bushy tails, big and strong as Calves, but fierce and lawless as
+pirates. With these the Fiddler Paul was to drive to Fort
+Alexander from Fort Garry--the bearer of several important
+packets. He was an expert Dog-driver, which usually means
+relentlessly cruel. He set off blithely down the river in the
+morning, after the several necessary drinks of whiskey. He
+expected to be gone a week, and would then come back with twenty
+dollars in his pocket, and having thus provided the sinews of
+war, would carry out the plan of elopement. Away they went down
+the river on the ice. The big Dogs pulled swiftly but sulkily as
+he cracked the long whip and shouted, "Allez, allez, marchez."
+They passed at speed by Renaud's shanty on the bank, and Paul,
+cracking his whip and running behind the train, waved his hand to
+Ninette as she stood by the door. Speedily the cariole with the
+sulky Dogs and drunken driver disappeared around the bend--and
+that was the last ever seen of Fiddler Paul.
+
+That evening the Huskies came back singly to Fort Garry. They
+were spattered with frozen blood, and were gashed in several
+places. But strange to tell they were quite "unhungry."
+
+Runners went on the back trail and recovered the packages. They
+were lying on the ice unharmed. Fragments of the sled were strewn
+for a mile or more up the river; not far from the packages were
+shreds of clothing that had belonged to the Fiddler.
+
+It was quite clear, the Dogs had murdered and eaten their driver.
+
+The Factor was terribly wrought up over the matter. It might cost
+him his Dogs. He refused to believe the report and set off to
+sift the evidence for himself. Renaud was chosen to go with him,
+and before they were within three miles of the fatal place Renaud
+pointed to a very large track crossing from the east to the west
+bank of the river, just after the Dog sled. He ran it backward
+for a mile or more on the eastern bank, noted how it had walked
+when the Dogs walked and run when they ran, before he turned to
+the Factor and said: "A beeg Voolf--he come after ze cariole all
+ze time."
+
+Now they followed the track where it had crossed to the west
+shore. Two miles above Kildonan woods the Wolf had stopped his
+gallop to walk over to the sled trail, had followed it a few
+yards, then had returned to the woods.
+
+"Paul he drop somesin' here, ze packet maybe; ze Voolf he come
+for smell. He follow so--now he know zat eez ze drunken Paul vot
+slash heem on ze head."
+
+A mile farther the Wolf track came galloping on the ice behind
+the cariole. The man track disappeared now, for the driver had
+leaped on the sled and lashed the Dogs. Here is where he cut
+adrift the bundles. That is why things were scattered over the
+ice. See how the Dogs were bounding under the lash. Here was the
+Fiddler's knife in the snow. He must have dropped it in trying to
+use it on the Wolf. And here-what! the Wolf track disappears, but
+the sled track speeds along. The Wolf has leaped on the sled. The
+Dogs, in terror, added to their speed; but on the sleigh behind
+them there is a deed of vengeance done. In a moment it is over;
+both roll off the sled; the Wolf track reappears on the east side
+to seek the woods. The sled swerves to the west bank, where,
+after half a mile, it is caught and wrecked on a root.
+
+The snow also told Renaud how the Dogs, entangled in the harness,
+had fought with each other, had cut themselves loose, and
+trotting homeward by various ways up the river, had gathered at
+the body of their late tyrant and devoured him at a meal.
+
+Bad enough for the Dogs, still they were cleared of the murder.
+That certainly was done by the Wolf, and Renaud, after the shock
+of horror was past, gave a sigh of relief and added, "Eet is le
+Garou. He hab save my leel girl from zat Paul. He always was good
+to children."
+
+
+VI
+
+This was the cause of the great final hunt that they fixed for
+Christmas Day just two years after the scene at the grave of
+Little Jim. It seemed as though all the Dogs in the country were
+brought together. The three Huskies were   there--the Factor
+considered them essential--there were Danes and trailers and a
+rabble of farm Dogs and nondescripts. They spent the morning
+beating all the woods east of St. Boniface and had no success.
+But a telephone message came that the trail they sought had been
+seen near the Assiniboine woods west of the city, and an hour
+later the hunt was yelling on the hot scent of the Winnipeg Wolf.
+
+Away they went, a rabble of Dogs, a motley rout of horsemen, a
+mob of men and boys on foot. Garou had no fear of the Dogs, but
+men he knew had guns and were dangerous. He led off for the dark
+timber line of the Assiniboine, but the horsemen had open country
+and they headed him back. He coursed along the Colony Creek
+hollow and so eluded the bullets already flying. He made for a
+barb-wire fence, and passing that he got rid of the horsemen for
+a time, but still must keep the hollow that baffled the bullets.
+The Dogs were now closing on him. All he might have asked would
+probably have been to be left alone with them--forty or fifty to
+one as they were--he would have taken the odds. The Dogs were all
+around him now, but none dared to close in, A lanky Hound,
+trusting to his speed, ran alongside at length and got a side
+chop from Garou that laid him low. The horsemen were forced to
+take a distant way around, but now the chase was toward the town,
+and more men and Dogs came running out to join the fray.
+
+The Wolf turned toward the slaughter-house, a familiar resort,
+and the shooting ceased on account of the houses, as well as the
+Dogs, being so near. These were indeed now close enough to
+encircle him and hinder all further flight. He looked for a place
+to guard his rear for a final stand, and seeing a wooden
+foot-bridge over a gutter he sprang in, there faced about and
+held the pack at bay. The men got bars and demolished the bridge.
+He leaped out, knowing now that he had to die, but ready, wishing
+only to make a worthy fight, and then for the first time in broad
+day view of all his foes he stood--the shadowy Dog-killer, the
+disembodied voice of St. Boniface woods, the wonderful Winnipeg
+Wolf.
+
+
+VII
+
+At last after three long years of fight he stood before them
+alone, confronting twoscore Dogs, and men with guns to back
+them--but facing them just as resolutely as I saw him that day in
+the wintry woods. The same old curl was on his lips--the
+hard-knit flanks heaved just a little, but his green and yellow
+eye glowed steadily. The Dogs closed in, led not by the huge
+Huskies from the woods--they evidently knew too much for
+that--but by a Bulldog from the town; there was scuffling of many
+feet; a low rumbling for a time replaced the yapping of the pack;
+a flashing of those red and grizzled jaws, a momentary hurl back
+of the onset, and again he stood alone and braced, the grim and
+grand old bandit that he was. Three times they tried and
+suffered. Their boldest were lying about him. The first to go
+down was the Bulldog. Learning wisdom now, the Dogs held back,
+less sure; but his square-built chest showed never a sign of
+weakness yet, and after waiting impatiently he advanced a few
+steps, and thus, alas! gave to the gunners their long-expected
+chance. Three rifles rang, and in the snow Garou went down at
+last, his life of combat done.
+
+He had made his choice. His days were short and crammed with
+quick events. His tale of many peaceful years was spent in three
+of daily brunt. He picked his trail, a new trail, high and short.
+He chose to drink his cup at a single gulp, and break the
+glass-but he left a deathless name.
+
+Who can look into the mind of the Wolf? Who can show us his
+wellspring of motive? Why should he still cling to a place of
+endless tribulation? It could not be because he knew no other
+country, for the region is limitless, food is everywhere, and he
+was known at least as far as Selkirk. Nor could his motive be
+revenge. No animal will give up its whole life to seeking
+revenge; that evil kind of mind is found in man alone. The brute
+creation seeks for peace.
+
+There is then but one remaining bond to chain him, and that the
+strongest claim that anything can own--the mightiest force on
+earth.
+
+The Wolf is gone. The last relic of him was lost in the burning
+Grammar School, but to this day the sexton of St. Boniface Church
+avers that the tolling bell on Christmas Eve never fails to
+provoke that weird and melancholy Wolf-cry from the wooded
+graveyard a hundred steps away, where they laid his Little Jim,
+the only being on earth that ever met him with the touch of love.
+
+
+THE LEGEND OF THE WHITE REINDEER
+
+
+Skoal! Skoal! For Norway Skoal!
+Sing ye the song of the Vand-dam troll.
+When I am hiding
+Norway's luck
+On a White Storbuk
+Comes riding, riding.
+
+Bleak, black, deep, and cold is Utrovand, a long pocket of
+glacial water, a crack in the globe, a wrinkle in the high
+Norwegian mountains, blocked with another mountain, and flooded
+with a frigid flood, three thousand feet above its
+Mother Sea, and yet no closer to its Father Sun.
+
+Around its cheerless shore is a belt of stunted trees, that sends
+a long tail up the high valley, till it dwindles away to sticks
+and moss, as it also does some half-way up the granite hills that
+rise a thousand feet, encompassing the lake. This is the limit of
+trees, the end of the growth of wood. The birch and willow are
+the last to drop out of the long fight with frost. Their
+miniature thickets are noisy with the cries of Fieldfare, Pipit,
+and Ptarmigan, but these are left behind on nearing the upper
+plateau, where shade of rock and sough of wind are all that take
+their place. The chilly Hoifjeld rolls away, a rugged, rocky
+plain, with great patches of snow in all the deeper hollows, and
+the distance blocked by snowy peaks that rise and roll and whiter
+gleam, till, dim and dazzling in the north, uplifts the
+Jotunheim, the home of spirits, of glaciers, and of the lasting
+snow.
+
+The treeless stretch is one vast attest to the force of heat.
+Each failure of the sun by one degree is marked by a lower realm
+of life. The northern slope of each hollow is less boreal than
+its southern side. The pine and spruce have given out long ago;
+the mountain-ash went next; the birch and willow climbed up half
+the slope. Here, nothing grows but creeping plants and moss. The
+plain itself is pale grayish green, one vast expanse of
+reindeer-moss, but warmed at spots into orange by great beds of
+polytrichum, and, in sunnier nooks, deepened to a herbal green.
+The rocks that are scattered everywhere are of a delicate lilac,
+but each is variegated with spreading frill-edged plasters of
+gray-green lichen or orange powder-streaks and beauty-spots of
+black. These rocks have great power to hold the heat, so that
+each of them is surrounded by a little belt of heat-loving plants
+that could not otherwise live so high. Dwarfed representatives of
+the birch and willow both are here, hugging the genial rock, as
+an old French habitant hugs his stove in winter-time, spreading
+their branches over it, instead of in the frigid air. A foot away
+is seen a chillier belt of heath, and farther off, colder, where
+none else can grow, is the omnipresent gray-green reindeer-moss
+that gives its color to the upland. The hollows are still filled
+with snow, though now it is June. But each of these white
+expanses is shrinking, spending itself in ice-cold streams that
+somehow reach the lake. These snö-flaks show no sign of life, not
+even the 'red-snow' tinge, and around each is a belt of barren
+earth, to testify that life and warmth can never be divorced.
+
+Birdless and lifeless, the gray-green snow-pied waste extends
+over all the stretch that is here between the timber-line and the
+snow-line, above which winter never quits its hold. Farther north
+both come lower, till the timber-line is at the level of the sea;
+and all the land is in that treeless belt called Tundra in the
+Old World, and Barrens in the New, and that everywhere is the
+Home of the Reindeer--the Realm of the Reindeer-moss.
+
+
+I
+
+In and out it flew, in and out, over the water and under, as the
+Varsimle', the leader doe of the Reindeer herd, walked past on
+the vernal banks, and it sang:--
+
+"Skoal! Skoal! Gamle Norge Skoal!" and more about "a White
+Reindeer and Norway's good luck," as though the singer were
+gifted with special insight.
+
+When old Sveggum built the Vand-dam on the Lower Hoifjeld, just
+above the Utrovand, and set his ribesten a-going, he supposed
+that he was the owner of it all. But some one was there before
+him. And in and out of the spouting stream this some one dashed,
+and sang songs that he made up to fit the place and the time. He
+skipped from skjaeke to skjaeke of the wheel, and did many things
+which Sveggum could set down only to luck--whatever that is; and
+some said that Sveggum's luck was a Wheel-troll, a Water-fairy,
+with a brown coat and a white beard, one that lived on land or in
+water, as he pleased.
+
+But most of Sveggum's neighbors saw only a Fossekal, the little
+Waterfall Bird that came each year and danced in the stream, or
+dived where the pool is deep. And maybe both were right, for some
+of the very oldest peasants will tell you that a Fairy-troll may
+take the form of a man or the form of a bird. Only this bird
+lived a life no bird can live, and sang songs that men never had
+sung in Norway. Wonderful vision had he, and sights he saw that
+man never saw. For the Fieldfare would build before him, and the
+Lemming fed its brood under his very eyes. Eyes were they to see;
+for the dark speck on Suletind that man could barely glimpse was
+a Reindeer, with half-shed coat, to him and the green slime on
+the Vandren was beautiful green pasture with a banquet spread.
+
+Oh, Man is so blind, and makes himself so hated! But Fossekal
+harmed none, so none were afraid of him. Only he sang, and his
+songs were sometimes mixed with fun and prophecy, or perhaps a
+little scorn.
+
+From the top of the tassel-birch he could mark the course of the
+Vand-dam stream past the Nystuen hamlet to lose itself in the
+gloomy waters of Utrovand or by a higher flight he could see
+across the barren upland that rolled to Jotunheim in the north.
+
+The great awakening was on now. The springtime had already
+reached the woods; the valleys were a-throb with life; new birds
+coming from the south, winter sleepers reappearing, and the
+Reindeer that had wintered in the lower woods should soon again
+be seen on the uplands.
+
+Not without a fight do the Frost Giants give up the place so long
+their own; a great battle was in progress; but the Sun was
+slowly, surely winning, and driving them back to their Jotunheim.
+At every hollow and shady place they made another stand, or
+sneaked back by night, only to suffer another defeat. Hard
+hitters these, as they are stubborn fighters; many a granite rock
+was split and shattered by their blows in reckless fight, so that
+its inner fleshy tints were shown and warmly gleamed among the
+gray-green rocks that dotted the plain, like the countless flocks
+of Thor. More or less of these may be found at every place of
+battle-brunt, and straggled along the slope of Suletind was a
+host that reached for half a mile. But stay! these moved. Not
+rocks were they, but living creatures.
+
+They drifted along erratically, yet one way, all up the wind.
+They swept out of sight in a hollow, to reappear on a ridge much
+nearer, and serried there against the sky, we marked their
+branching horns, and knew them for the Reindeer in their home.
+
+The band came drifting our way, feeding like Sheep, grunting like
+only themselves. Each one found a grazing-spot, stood there till
+it was cleared off, then trotted on crackling hoofs to the front
+in search of another. So the band was ever changing in rank and
+form. But one there was that was always at or near the van--a
+large and well-favored Simle', or Hind. However much the band
+might change and spread, she was in the forefront, and the
+observant would soon have seen signs that she had an influence
+over the general movement--that she, indeed, was the leader. Even
+the big Bucks, in their huge velvet-clad antlers, admitted this
+untitular control; and if one, in a spirit of independence,
+evinced a disposition to lead elsewhere, he soon found himself
+uncomfortably alone.
+
+The Varsimle', or leading Hind, had kept the band hovering, for
+the last week or two, along the timber-line, going higher each
+day to the baring uplands, where the snow was clearing and the
+deer-flies were blown away. As the pasture zone had climbed she
+had followed in her daily foraging, returning to the sheltered
+woods at sundown, for the wild things fear the cold night wind
+even as man does. But now the deer-flies were rife in the woods,
+and the rocky hillside nooks warm enough for the nightly bivouac,
+so the woodland was deserted.
+
+Probably the leader of a band of animals does not consciously
+pride itself on leadership, yet has an uncomfortable sensation
+when not followed. But there are times with all when solitude is
+sought. The Varsimle' had been fat and well through the winter,
+yet now was listless, and lingered with drooping head as the
+grazing herd moved past her.
+
+Sometimes she stood gazing blankly while the unchewed bunch of
+moss hung from her mouth, then roused to go on to the front as
+before; but the spells of vacant stare and the hankering to be
+alone grew stronger. She turned downward to seek the birch woods,
+but the whole band turned with her. She stood stock-still, with
+head down. They grazed and grunted past, leaving her like a
+statue against the hillside. When all had gone on, she slunk
+quietly away; walked a few steps, looked about, made a pretense
+of grazing, snuffed the ground, looked after the herd, and
+scanned the hills; then downward fared toward the sheltering
+woods.
+
+Once as she peered over a bank she sighted another Simle', a doe
+Reindeer, uneasily wandering by itself. But the Varsimle' wished
+not for company. She did not know why, but she felt that she must
+hide away somewhere.
+
+She stood still until the other had passed on, then turned aside,
+and went with faster steps and less wavering, till she came in
+view of Utrovand, away down by the little stream that turns old
+Sveggum's ribesten. Up above the dam she waded across the limpid
+stream, for deep-laid and sure is the instinct of a wild animal
+to put running water between itself and those it shuns. Then, on
+the farther bank, now bare and slightly green, she turned, and
+passing in and out among the twisted trunks, she left the noisy
+Vand-dam. On the higher ground beyond she paused, looked this way
+and that, went on a little, but returned; and here, completely
+shut in by softly painted rocks, and birches wearing little
+springtime hangers, she seemed inclined to rest; yet not to rest,
+for she stood uneasily this way and that, driving away the flies
+that settled on her legs, heeding not at all the growing grass,
+and thinking she was hid from all the world.
+
+But nothing escapes the Fossekal. He had seen her leave the herd,
+and now he sat on a gorgeous rock that overhung, and sang as
+though he had waited for this and knew that the fate of the
+nation might turn on what passed in this far glen. He sang:
+
+Skoal! Skoal! For Norway Skoal!
+Sing ye the song of the Vand-dam troll.
+When I am hiding
+Norway's luck
+On a White Storbuk
+Comes riding, riding.
+
+
+There are no Storks in Norway, and yet an hour later there was a
+wonderful little Reindeer lying beside the Varsimle'. She was
+brushing his coat, licking and mothering him, proud and happy as
+though this was the first little Renskalv ever born. There might
+be hundreds born in the herd that month, but probably no more
+like this one, for he was snowy white, and the song of the singer
+on the painted rock was about
+
+Good luck, good luck,
+And a White Storbuk,
+
+as though he foresaw clearly the part that the White Calf was to
+play when he grew to be a Storbuk.
+
+But another wonder now came to pass. Before an hour, there was a
+second little Calf--a brown one this time. Strange things happen,
+and hard things are done when they needs must. Two hours later,
+when the Varsimle' led the White Calf away from the place, there
+was no Brown Calf, only some flattened rags with calf-hair on
+them.
+
+The mother was wise: better one strongling than two weaklings.
+Within a few days the Simle' once more led the band, and running
+by her side was the White Calf. The Varsimle' considered him in
+all things, so that he really set the pace for the band, which
+suited very well all the mothers that now had Calves with them.
+Big, strong, and wise was the Varsimle', in the pride of her
+strength, and this White Calf was the flower of her prime. He
+often ran ahead of his mother as she led the herd, and Rol,
+coming on them one day, laughed aloud at the sight as they
+passed, old and young, fat Simle' and antlered Storbuk, a great
+brown herd, all led, as it seemed, by a little White Calf.
+
+So they drifted away to the high mountains, to be gone all
+summer. "Gone to be taught by the spirits who dwell where the
+Black  Loon laughs on the ice," said Lief of the Lower Dale; but
+Sveggum, who had always been among the Reindeer, said: "Their
+mothers are the teachers, even as ours are."
+
+When the autumn came, old Sveggum saw a moving sno-flack far off
+on the brown moor-land; but the Troll saw a white yearling, a
+Nekbuk; and when they ranged alongside of Utrovand to drink, the
+still sheet seemed fully to reflect the White One, though it
+barely sketched in the others, with the dark hills behind.
+
+Many a little Calf had come that spring, and had drifted away on
+the moss-barrens, to come back no more; for some were weaklings
+and some were fools; some fell by the way, for that is law; and
+some would not learn the rules, and so died. But the White Calf
+was strongest of them all, and he was wise, so he learned of his
+mother, who was wisest of them all. He learned that the grass on
+the sun side of a rock is sweet, and though it looks the same in
+the dark hollows, it is there worthless. He learned that when his
+mother's hoofs crackled he must be up and moving, and when all
+the herd's hoofs crackled there was danger, and he must keep by
+his mother's side. For this crackling is like the whistling of a
+Whistler Duck's wings: it is to keep the kinds together. He
+learned that where the little Bomuldblomster hangs its Cotton
+tufts is dangerous bog; that the harsh cackle of the Ptarmigan
+means that close at hand are Eagles, as dangerous for Fawn as for
+Bird. He learned that the little troll-berries are deadly, that
+when the verra-flies come stinging he must take refuge on a   
+snow-patch, and that of all animal smells only that of his mother
+was to be fully trusted. He learned that he was growing. His flat
+calf sides and big joints were changing to the full barrel and
+clean limbs of the Yearling, and the little bumps which began to
+show on his head when he was only a fortnight old were now sharp,
+hard spikes that could win in fight.
+
+More than once they had smelt that dreaded destroyer of the north
+that men call the Gjerv or Wolverene; and one day, as this
+danger-scent came suddenly and in great strength, a huge blot of
+dark brown sprang rumbling from a rocky ledge, and straight for
+the foremost--the White Calf. His eye caught the flash of a
+whirling, shaggy mass, with gleaming teeth and eyes, hot-breathed
+and ferocious. Blank horror set his hair on end; his nostrils
+flared in fear: but before he fled there rose within another
+feeling--one of anger at the breaker of his peace, a sense that
+swept all fear away, braced his legs, and set his horns at
+charge. The brown brute landed with a deep-chested growl, to be
+received on the young one's spikes. They pierced him deeply, but
+the shock was overmuch; it bore the White One down, and he might
+yet have been killed but that his mother, alert and ever near,
+now charged the attacking monster, and heavier, better armed, she
+hurled and speared him to the ground. And the White Calf, with a
+very demon glare in his once mild eyes, charged too; and even
+after the Wolverene was a mere hairy mass, and his mother had
+retired to feed, he came, snorting out his rage, to drive his
+spikes into the hateful thing, till his snowy head was stained
+with his adversary's blood.
+
+Thus he showed that below the ox-like calm exterior was the
+fighting beast; that he was like the men of the north, rugged,
+square-built, calm, slow to wrath, but when aroused "seeing red."
+
+When they ranked together by the lake that fall, the Fossekal
+sang his old song:
+
+When I am hiding
+Norway's luck
+On a White Storbuk
+Comes riding, riding,
+
+as though this was something he had awaited, then disappeared no
+one knew where. Old Sveggum had seen it flying through the
+stream, as birds fly through the air, walking in the bottom of a
+deep pond as a Ptarmigan walks on the rocks, living as no bird
+can live; and now the old man said it had simply gone southward
+for the winter. But old Sveggum could neither read nor write: how
+should he know?
+
+
+II
+
+Each springtime when the Reindeer passed over Sveggum's mill-run,
+as they moved from the lowland woods to the bleaker shore of
+Utrovand, the Fossekal was there to sing about the White Storbuk,
+which each year became more truly the leader.
+
+That first spring he stood little higher than a Hare. When he
+came to drink in the autumn, his back was above the rock where
+Sveggum's stream enters Utrovand. Next year he barely passed
+under the stunted birch, and the third year the Fossekal on the
+painted rock was looking up, not down, at him as he passed. This
+was the autumn when Rol and Sveggum sought the Hoifjeld to round
+up their   half-wild herd and select some of the strongest for
+the sled. There was but one opinion about the Storbuk. Higher
+than the others, heavier, white as snow, with a mane that swept
+the shallow drifts, breasted like a Horse and with horns like a
+storm-grown oak, he was king of the herd, and might easily be
+king of the road.
+
+There are two kinds of deer-breakers, as there are two kinds of
+horse-breakers: one that tames and teaches the animal, and gets a
+spirited, friendly helper; one that aims to break its spirit, and
+gets only a sullen slave, ever ready to rebel and wreak its hate.
+Many a Lapp and many a Norsk has paid with his life for brutality
+to his Reindeer, and Rol's days were shortened by his own
+pulk-Ren. But Sveggum was of gentler sort. To him fell the
+training of the White Storbuk. It was slow, for the Buck resented
+all liberties from man, as he did from his brothers; but
+kindness, not fear, was the power that tamed him, and when he had
+learned to obey and glory in the sled race, it was a noble sight
+to see the great white mild-eyed beast striding down the long
+snow-stretch of Utrovand, the steam jetting from his nostrils,
+the snow swirling up before like the curling waves on a steamer's
+bow, sled, driver, and Deer all dim in flying white.
+
+Then came the Yule-tide Fair, with the races on the ice, and
+Utrovand for once was gay. The sullen hills about reechoed with
+merry shouting. The Reindeer races were first, with many a mad
+mischance for laughter. Rol himself was there with his swiftest
+sled Deer, a tall, dark, five-year-old, in his primest prime. But
+over-eager, over-brutal, he harried the sullen, splendid slave
+till in mid-race--just when in a way to win--it turned at a cruel
+blow, and Rol took refuge under the upturned sled until it had
+vented its rage against the wood; and so he lost the race, and
+the winner was the young White Storbuk. Then he won the  
+five-mile race around the lake; and for each triumph Sveggum hung
+a little silver bell on his harness, so that now he ran and won
+to merry music.
+
+Then came the Horse races,--running races these; the Reindeer
+only trots,--and when Balder, the victor Horse, received his
+ribbon and his owner the purse, came Sveggum with all his
+winnings in his hand, and said: "Ho, Lars, thine is a fine Horse,
+but mine is a better Storbuk; let us put our winnings together
+and race, each his beast, for all."
+
+A Ren against a Race-horse--such a race was never seen till now.
+Off at the pistol-crack they flew. "Ho, Balder! (cluck!) Ho, hi,
+Balder!" Away shot the beautiful Racer, and the Storbuk, striding
+at a slower trot, was left behind.
+
+"Ho, Balder!" "Hi, Storbuk!" How the people cheered as the Horse
+went bounding and gaining! But he had left the line at his top
+speed; the Storbuk's rose as he flew--faster--faster. The Pony
+ceased to gain. A mile whirled by; the gap began to close. The
+Pony had over-spurted at the start, but the Storbuk was warming
+to his work--striding evenly, swiftly, faster yet, as Sveggum
+cried in encouragement: "Ho, Storbuk! good Storbuk!" or talked to
+him only with a gentle rein. At the turning-point the pair were
+neck and neck; then the Pony--though well driven and well
+shod-slipped on the ice, and thenceforth held back as though in
+fear, so the Storbuk steamed away. The Pony and his driver were
+far behind when a roar from every human throat in Filefjeld told
+that the Storbuk had passed the wire and won the race. And yet
+all this was before the White Ren had reached the years of his
+full strength and speed.
+
+Once that day Rol essayed to drive the Storbuk. They set off at a
+good pace, the White Buk ready, responsive to the single rein,
+and his mild eyes veiled by his drooping lashes. But, without any
+reason other than the habit of brutality, Rol struck him. In a
+moment there was a change. The Racer's speed was checked, all
+four legs braced forward till he stood; the drooping lids were
+raised, the eyes rolled--there was a green light in them now.
+Three puffs of steam were jetted from each nostril. Rol shouted,
+then, scenting danger, quickly upset the sled and hid beneath.
+The Storbuk turned to charge the sled, sniffing and tossing the
+snow with his foot; but little Knute, Sveggum's son, ran forward
+and put his arms around the Storbuk's neck; then the fierce look
+left the Reindeer's eye, and he suffered the child to lead him
+quietly back to the starting-point. Beware, O driver! the
+Reindeer, too, "sees red."
+
+This was the coming of the White Storbuk for the folk of
+Filefjeld.
+
+In the two years that followed he became famous throughout that
+country as Sveggum's Storbuk, and many a strange exploit was told
+of him. In twenty minutes he could carry old Sveggum round the
+six-mile rim of Utrovand. When the snow-slide buried all the
+village of Holaker, it was the Storbuk that brought the word for
+help to Opdalstole and returned again over the forty miles of
+deep snow in seven hours, to carry brandy, food, and promise of
+speedy aid.
+
+When over-venturesome young Knute Sveggumsen broke through the
+new thin ice of Utrovand, his cry for help brought the Storbuk to
+the rescue; for he was the gentlest of his kind and always ready
+to come at call.
+
+He brought the drowning boy in triumph to the shore, and as they
+crossed the Vand-dam stream, there was the Troll-bird to sing:
+
+Good luck, good luck,
+With the White Storbuk.
+
+After which he disappeared for months--doubtless dived into some
+subaqueous cave to feast and revel all winter; although Sveggum
+did not believe it was so.
+
+
+III
+
+How often is the fate of kingdoms given into child hands, or even
+committed to the care of Bird or Beast! A She-wolf nursed the
+Roman Empire. A Wren pecking crumbs on a drum-head aroused the
+Orange army, it is said, and ended the Stuart reign in Britain.
+Little wonder, then, that to a noble Reindeer Buk should be
+committed the fate of Norway: that the Troll on the wheel should
+have reason in his rhyme.
+
+These were troublous times in Scandinavia. Evil men, traitors at
+heart, were sowing dissension between the brothers Norway and
+Sweden. "Down with the Union!" was becoming the popular cry.
+
+Oh, unwise peoples! If only you could have been by Sveggum's
+wheel to hear the
+Troll when he sang:
+
+The Raven and the Lion
+They held the Bear at bay;
+But he picked the bones of both
+When they quarrelled by the way.
+
+Threats of civil war, of a fight for independence, were heard
+throughout Norway. Meetings were held more or less secretly, and
+at each of them was some one with well-filled pockets and glib
+tongue, to enlarge on the country's wrongs, and promise
+assistance from an outside irresistible power as soon as they
+showed that they meant to strike for freedom. No one openly named
+the power. That was not necessary; it was everywhere felt and
+understood. Men who were real patriots began to believe in it.
+Their country was wronged. Here was one to set her right. Men
+whose honor was beyond question became secret agents of this
+power. The state was honeycombed and mined; society was a tangle
+of plots. The king was helpless, though his only wish was for the
+people's welfare. Honest and straightforward, what could he do
+against this far-reaching machination? The very advisers by his
+side were corrupted through mistaken patriotism. The idea that
+they were playing into the hands of the foreigner certainly never
+entered into the minds of these dupes--at least, not those of the
+rank and file. One or two, tried, selected, and bought by the
+arch-enemy, knew the real object in view, and the chief of these
+was Borgrevinck, a former lansman of Nordlands. A man of unusual
+gifts, a member of the Storthing, a born leader, he might have
+been prime minister long ago, but for the distrust inspired by
+several unprincipled dealings. Soured by what he considered want
+of appreciation, balked in his ambition, he was a ready tool when
+the foreign agent sounded him. At first his patriotism had to be
+sopped, but that necessity disappeared as the game went on, and
+perhaps he alone, of the whole far-reaching conspiracy, was
+prepared to strike at the Union for the benefit of the foreigner.
+
+Plans were being perfected,--army officers being secretly misled
+and won over by the specious talk of "their country's wrongs,"
+and each move made Borgrevinck more surely the head of it
+all,--when a quarrel between himself and the "deliverer" occurred
+over the question of recompense. Wealth untold they were willing
+to furnish; but regal power, never. The quarrel became more
+acute. Borgrevinck continued to attend all meetings, but was ever
+more careful to centre all power in himself, and even prepared to
+turn round to the king's party if necessary to further his
+ambition. The betrayal of his followers would purchase his own
+safety. But proofs he must have, and he set about getting
+signatures to a declaration of rights which was simply a veiled
+confession of treason. Many of the leaders he had deluded into
+signing this before the meeting at Laersdalsoren. Here they met
+in the early winter, some twenty of the patriots, some of them
+men of position, all of them men of brains and power. Here, in
+the close and stifling parlor, they planned, discussed, and
+questioned. Great hopes were expressed, great deeds were
+forecast, in that stove-hot room.
+
+Outside, against the fence, in the winter night, was a Great
+White Reindeer, harnessed to a sled, but lying down with his head
+doubled back on his side as he slept, calm, unthoughtful,
+ox-like. Which seemed likelier to decide the nation's fate, the
+earnest thinkers indoors, or the ox-like sleeper without? Which
+seemed more vital to Israel, the bearded council in King Saul's
+tent, or the light-hearted shepherd-boy hurling stones across the
+brook at Bethlehem? At Laersdalsoren it was as before: deluded by
+Borgrevinck's eloquent plausibility, all put their heads in the
+noose, their lives and country in his hands, seeing in this
+treacherous monster a very angel of self-sacrificing patriotism.
+All? No, not all. Old Sveggum was there. He could neither read
+nor write. That was his excuse for not signing. He could not read
+a letter in a book, but he could read something of the hearts of
+men. As the meeting broke up he whispered to Axel Tanberg: "Is
+his own name on that paper?" And Axel, starting at the thought,
+said: "No." Then said Sveggum: "I don't trust that man. They
+ought to know of this at Nystuen." For there was to be the really
+important meeting. But how to let them know was the riddle.
+Borgrevinck was going there at once with his fast Horses.
+
+Sveggum's eye twinkled as he nodded toward the Storbuk, standing
+tied to the fence. Borgrevinck leaped into his sleigh and went
+off at speed, for he was a man of energy. Sveggum took the bells
+from the harness, untied the Reindeer, stepped into the pulk. He
+swung the single rein, clucked to the Storbuk, and also turned
+his head toward Nystuen. The fast Horses had a long start, but
+before they had climbed the eastward hill Sveggum needs must
+slack, so as not to overtake them. He held back till they came to
+the turn above the woods at Maristuen; then he quit the road, and
+up the river flat he sped the Buk, a farther way, but the only
+way to bring them there ahead.
+
+Squeak, crack-squeak, crack-squeak, crack--at regular intervals
+from the great spreading snow-shoes of the Storbuk, and the
+steady sough of his breath was like the Nordland as she passes up
+the Hardanger Fjord. High up, on the smooth road to the left,
+they could hear the jingle of the horse-bells and the shouting of
+Borgrevinck's driver, who, under orders, was speeding hard for
+Nystuen.
+
+The highway was a short road and smooth, and the river valley was
+long and rough; but when, in four hours, Borgrevinck got to
+Nystuen, there in the throng was a face that he had just left at
+Laersdalsoren. He appeared not to notice, though nothing ever
+escaped him.
+
+At Nystuen none of the men would sign. Some one had warned them.
+This was serious; might be fatal at such a critical point. As he
+thought it over, his suspicions turned more and more to Sveggum,
+the old fool that could not write his name at Laersdalsoren. But
+how did he get there before himself with his speedy Horses?
+
+There was a dance at Nystuen that night; the dance was necessary
+to mask the meeting; and during that Borgrevinck learned of the
+swift White Ren.
+
+The Nystuen trip had failed, thanks to the speed of the White
+Buk. Borgrevinck must get to Bergen before word of this, or all
+would be lost. There was only one way, to be sure of getting
+there before any one else. Possibly word had already gone from
+Laersdalsoren. But even at that, Borgrevinck could get there and
+save himself, at the price of all Norway, if need be, provided he
+went with the White Storbuk. He would not be denied. He was not
+the man to give up a point, though it took all the influence he
+could bring to bear, this time, to get old Sveggum's leave.
+
+The Storbuk was quietly sleeping in the corral when Sveggum came
+to bring him. He rose leisurely, hind legs first, stretched one,
+then the other, curling his tail tight on his back as he did so,
+shook the hay from the great antlers as though they were a bunch
+of twigs, and slowly followed Sveggum at the end of the tight
+halter. He was so sleepy and slow that Borgrevinck impatiently
+gave him a kick, and got for response a short snort from the Buk,
+and from Sveggum an earnest warning, both of which were somewhat
+scornfully received. The tinkling bells on the harness had been
+replaced, but Borgrevinck wanted them removed. He wished to go in
+silence. Sveggum would not be left behind when his favorite Ren
+went forth, so he was given a seat in the horse-sleigh which was
+to follow, and the driver thereof received from his master a
+secret hint to delay.
+
+Then, with papers on his person to death-doom a multitude of
+misguided men, with fiendish intentions in his heart as well as
+the power to carry them out, and with the fate of Norway in his
+hands, Borgrevinck was made secure in the sled, behind the White
+Storbuk, and sped at dawn on his errand of desolation.
+
+At the word from Sveggum the White Ren set off with a couple of
+bounds that threw Borgrevinck back in the pulk. This angered him,
+but he swallowed his wrath on seeing that it left the
+horse-sleigh behind. He shook the line, shouted, and the Buk
+settled down to a long, swinging trot. His broad hoofs clicked
+double at every stride. His nostrils, out level, puffed steady
+blasts of steam in the frosty morning as he settled to his pace.
+The pulk's prow cut two long shears of snow, that swirled up over
+man and sled till all were white. And the great ox-eyes of the
+King Ren blazed joyously in the delight of motion, and of 
+conquest too, as the sound of the horse-bells faded far behind.
+
+Even masterful Borgrevinck could not but mark with pleasure the
+noble creature that had balked him last night and now was lending
+its speed to his purpose; for it was his intention to arrive
+hours before the horse-sleigh, if possible.
+
+Up the rising road they sped as though downhill, and the driver's
+spirits rose with the exhilarating speed. The snow groaned
+ceaselessly under the prow of the pulk, and the frosty creaking
+under the hoofs of the flying Ren was like the gritting of mighty
+teeth. Then came the level stretch from Nystuen's hill to
+Dalecarl's, and as they whirled by in the early day, little Carl
+chanced to peep from a window, and got sight of the Great White
+Ren in a white pulk with a white driver, just as it is in the
+stories of the Giants, and clapped his hands, and cried, "Good,
+good!"
+
+But his grandfather, when he caught a glimpse of the white wonder
+that went without even sound of bells, felt a cold chill in his
+scalp, and went back to light a candle that he kept at the window
+till the sun was high, for surely this was the Storbuk of
+Jotunheim.
+
+But the Ren whirled on, and the driver shook the reins and
+thought only of Bergen. He struck the White Steed with the loose
+end of the rope. The Buk gave three great snorts and three great
+bounds, then faster went, and as they passed by Dyrskaur, where
+the Giant sits on the edge, his head was muffled in scud, which
+means that a storm is coming. The Storbuk knew it. He sniffed,
+and eyed the sky with anxious look, and even slacked a little;
+but Borgrevinck yelled at the speeding beast, though going yet as
+none but he could go, and struck him once, twice, and thrice, and
+harder yet. So the pulk was whirled along like a skiff in a
+steamer's wake; but there was blood in the Storbuk's eye now; and
+Borgrevinck was hard put to balance the sled. The miles flashed
+by like roods till Sveggum's bridge appeared. The storm-wind now
+was blowing, but there was the Troll. Whence came he now, none
+knew, but there he was, hopping on the keystone and singing of
+
+Norway's fate and Norway's luck,
+Of the hiding Troll and the riding Buk.
+
+Down the winding highway they came, curving inward as they swung
+around the corner. At the voice on the bridge the Deer threw back
+his ears and slackened his pace. Borgrevinck, not knowing whence
+it came, struck savagely at the Ren. The red light gleamed in
+those ox-like eyes. He snorted in anger and shook the great
+horns, but he did not stop to avenge the blow. For him was a
+vaster vengeance still. He onward sped as before, but from that
+time Borgrevinck had lost all control. The one voice that the Ren
+would hear had been left behind. They whirled aside, off the
+road, before the bridge was reached. The pulk turned over, but
+righted itself, and Borgrevinck would have been thrown out and
+killed but for the straps. It was not to be so; it seemed rather
+as though the every curse of Norway had been gathered into the
+sled for a purpose. Bruised and battered, he reappeared. The
+Troll from the bridge leaped lightly to the Storbuk's head, and
+held on to the horns as he danced and sang his ancient song, and
+a new song, too:
+
+Ha! at last! Oh, lucky day,
+Norway's curse to wipe away!
+
+Borgrevinck was terrified and furious. He struck harder at the
+Storbuk as he bounded over the rougher snow, and vainly tried to
+control him. He lost his head in fear. He got out his knife, at
+last, to strike at the wild Buk's hamstrings, but a blow from the
+hoof sent it flying from his hand. Their speed on the road was
+slow to that they now made: no longer striding at the trot, but
+bounding madly, great five-stride bounds, the wretched
+Borgrevinck strapped in the sled, alone and helpless through his
+own contriving, screaming, cursing, and praying. The Storbuk with
+bloodshot eyes, madly steaming, careered up the rugged ascent, up
+to the broken, stormy Hoifjeld; mounting the hills as a Petrel
+mounts the rollers, skimming the flats as a Fulmar skims the
+shore, he followed the trail where his mother had first led his
+tottering steps, up from the Vand-dam nook. He followed the old
+familiar route that he had followed for five years, where the
+white-winged Rype flies aside, where the black rock mountains,
+shining white, come near and block the sky, "where the Reindeer
+find their mysterie."
+
+On like the little snow-wreath that the storm-wind sends dancing
+before the storm, on like a whirlwind over the shoulder of
+Suletind, over the knees of Torholmenbrae--the Giants that sit at
+the gateway. Faster than man or beast could follow,
+up--up--up--and on; and no one saw them go, but a Raven that
+swooped behind, and flew as Raven never flew, and the Troll, the
+same old Troll that sang by the Vand-dam, and now danced and sang
+between the antlers:
+
+Good luck, good luck for Norway
+With the White Storbuk comes riding.
+
+Over Tvindehoug they faded like flying scud on the moorlands, on
+to the gloomy distance, away toward Jotunheim, the home of the
+Evil Spirits, the Land of the Lasting Snow. Their every sign and
+trail was wiped away by the drifting storm, and the end of them
+no man knows.
+
+The Norse folk awoke as from a horrid nightmare. Their national
+ruin was averted; there were no deaths, for there were no proofs;
+and the talebearer's strife was ended.
+
+The one earthly sign remaining from that drive is the string of
+silver bells that Sveggum had taken from the Storbuk's neck--the
+victory bells, each the record of a triumph won; and when the old
+man came to understand, he sighed, and hung to the string a final
+bell, the largest of them all.
+
+Nothing more was ever seen or heard of the creature who so nearly
+sold his country, or of the White Storbuk who balked him. Yet
+those who live near Jotunheim say that on stormy nights, when the
+snow is flying and the wind is raving in the woods, there
+sometimes passes, at frightful speed, an enormous White Reindeer
+with fiery eyes, drawing a snow-white pulk, in which is a
+screaming wretch in white, and on the head of the Deer, balancing
+by the horns, is a brown-clad, white-bearded Troll, bowing and
+grinning pleasantly at him, and singing
+
+Of Norway's luck
+And a White Storbuk--
+
+the same, they say, as the one that with prophetic vision sang by
+Sveggum's Vand-dam on a bygone day when the birches wore their
+springtime hangers, and a great mild-eyed Varsimle' came alone,
+to go away with a little white Renskalv walking slowly, demurely,
+by her side.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg Etext Animal Heroes, by Ernest Thompson Seton
+
diff --git a/old/anhro10.zip b/old/anhro10.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ee072a4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/anhro10.zip