diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 2284-8.txt | 6049 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 2284-8.zip | bin | 0 -> 130749 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 2284-h.zip | bin | 0 -> 133043 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 2284-h/2284-h.htm | 7654 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 2284.txt | 6049 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 2284.zip | bin | 0 -> 130723 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/anhro10.txt | 6320 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/anhro10.zip | bin | 0 -> 129122 bytes |
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 Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..89a04d9 --- /dev/null +++ b/2284-8.zip diff --git a/2284-h.zip b/2284-h.zip Binary files differnew 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>—The Chronicle of a Homing Pigeon<BR> + <A HREF="#badlands">BADLANDS BILLY</A>—The Wolf that Won<BR> + <A HREF="#lynx">THE BOY AND THE LYNX</A><BR> + <A HREF="#warhorse">LITTLE WARHORSE</A>—The History of a Jack-rabbit<BR> + <A HREF="#snap">SNAP</A>—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—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,—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—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—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—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. +</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—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,—Cats do not do that way much,—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—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—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—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?" +</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—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—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—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—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. +</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—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—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. +</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—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—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. +</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—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—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. +</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—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." +</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—the old junk-yard. Another turn, and the block was in +sight. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</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—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,—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. +</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—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—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. +</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—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. +</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—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—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." +</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—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—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,—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. +</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?—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! +</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—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. +</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—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:—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? +</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—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—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—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—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. +</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—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. +</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—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—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—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. +</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—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—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—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—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—eight beauties—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,—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—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. +</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—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—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—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—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—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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</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—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—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—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—half starved before they came—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—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. +</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—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—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—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. +</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—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." +</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—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—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—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. +</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—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—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. +</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—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—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. +</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—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—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. +</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—at him—past +him—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!—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—where are you? Thor?" Then, "Who is it? +Loo? Margat?" +</P> + +<P> +"Corney—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,—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. +</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—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. +</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—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. +</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—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—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." +</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—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. +</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—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—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—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—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—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. +</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—"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—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—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—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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</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,—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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</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—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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</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—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—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—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." +</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—fix it so; it +means two cigars." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</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—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,—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—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—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! +</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—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,—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. +</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—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—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. +</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—words—imprecations—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—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—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. +</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—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. +</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—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—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—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—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. +</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—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—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—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—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—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—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. +</P> + +<P> +Sarcastic remarks and recrimination were now freely indulged in by the +hunters. +</P> + +<P> +"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!" +</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—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—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—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. +</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—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—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—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. +</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—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. +</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—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—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. +</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—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—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. +</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—"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. +</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—and all children seemed to be included to some +extent—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—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. +</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—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—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"—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. +</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—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. +</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—for that is all a Wolf is—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—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—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. +</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—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—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. +</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—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—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—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. +</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—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. +</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—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—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. +</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—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—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:— +</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—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—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. +</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—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—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. +</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—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. +</P> + +<P> +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." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</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—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. +</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—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—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—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,—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. +</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—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—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: +</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—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—<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 Binary files differnew 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 Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ee072a4 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/anhro10.zip |