Lobo, generally, came into this part of the range in the early part of
each week, and passed the latter part, it was supposed. around the
base of Sierra Grande. This was Monday, and that same evening,
as we were about to retire, I heard the deep bass howl of his
majesty. On hearing it one of the boys briefly remarked, "There he
is, we'll see."

The next morning I went forth, eager to know the result. I soon
came on the fresh trail of the robbers, with Lobo in the lead--his
track was always easily distinguished. An ordinary wolf's forefoot
is 4 1/2 inches long, that of a large wolf 4 3/4 inches, but Lobo's,
as measured a number of times, was 5 1/2 inches from claw to
heel; I afterward found that his other proportions were
commensurate, for he stood three feet high at the shoulder, and
weighed 150 pounds. His trail, therefore, though obscured by those
of his followers, was never difficult to trace. The pack had soon
found the track of my drag, and as usual followed it. I could see
that Lobo had come to the first bait, sniffed about it, and finally
had picked it up.

Then I could not conceal my delight. "I've got him at last," I
exclaimed; "I shall find him stark within a mile," and I galloped on
with eager eyes fixed on the great broad track in the dust. It led me
to the second bait and that also was gone. How I exulted--I surely
have him now and perhaps several of his band. But there was the
broad pawmark still on the drag; and though I stood in the stirrup
and scanned the plain I saw nothing that looked like a dead wolf.
Again I followed--to find now that the third bait was gone--and the
king-wolf's track led on to the fourth, there to learn that he had not
really taken a bait at all, but had merely carried them in his mouth,