might howl half the night about the herdsman's bivouac without
attracting more than a passing notice, but when the deep roar of
the old king came booming down the canon, the watcher bestirred
himself and prepared to learn in the morning that fresh and serious
inroads had been made among the herds.

Old Lobo's band was but a small one. This I never quite
understood, for usually, when a wolf rises to the position and
power that he had, he attracts a numerous following. It may be that
he had as many as he desired, or perhaps his ferocious temper
prevented the increase of his pack. Certain is it that Lobo had only
five followers during the latter part of his reign. Each of these,
however, was a wolf of renown, most of them were above the
ordinary size, one in particular, the second in command, was a
veritable giant, but even he was far below the leader in size and
prowess. Several of the band, besides the two leaders, were
especially noted. One of those was a beautiful white wolf, that the
Mexicans called Blanca; this was supposed to be a female,
possibly Lobo's mate. Another was a yellow wolf of remarkable
swiftness, which, according to current stories had, on several
occasions, captured an antelope for the pack.

It will be seen, then, that these wolves were thoroughly
well-known to the cowboys and shepherds. They were frequently
seen and oftener heard, and their lives were intimately associated
with those of the cattlemen, who would so gladly have destroyed
them. There was not a stockman on the Currumpaw who would
not readily have given the value of many steers for the scalp of any
one of Lobo's band, but they seemed to possess charmed lives, and
defied all manner of devices to kill them. They scorned all hunters,