Garner's Creek, and every little while he would go with the Hounds and
scour the Little Missouri south and east of the Chimney-pot Ranch; for
it was understood that he must never run the Dogs in country where traps
and poison were laid. He worked in his erratic way all winter, and
certainly did have some success. He killed a couple of Grey Wolves, said
to be the last of their race, and several Coyotes, some of which, no
doubt, were of the Bobtailed pack, which thereby lost those members
which were lacking in wisdom.

Yet that winter was marked by a series of Coyote raids and exploits; and
usually the track in the snow or the testimony of eye-witnesses told
that the master spirit of it all was a little Bobtailed Coyote.

One of these adventures was the cause of much talk. The Coyote challenge
sounded close to the Chimney-pot Ranch after sundown. A dozen Dogs
responded with the usual clamour. But only the Bull-terrier dashed away
toward the place whence the Coyotes had called, for the reason that he
only was loose. His chase was fruitless, and he came back growling.
Twenty minutes later there was another Coyote yell close at hand. Off
dashed the Terrier as before. In a minute his excited yapping; told that
he had sighted his game and was in full chase. Away he went, furiously
barking, until his voice was lost afar, and nevermore was heard. In the
morning the men read in the snow the tale of the night. The first cry
of the Coyotes was to find out if all the Dogs were loose; then, having
found that only one was free, they laid a plan. Five Coyotes hid along
the side of the trail; one went forward and called till it had decoyed
the rash Terrier, and then led him right into the ambush. What chance
had he with six? They tore him limb from limb, and devoured him, too, at
the very spot where once he had worried Coyotito. And next morning,
when the men came, they saw by the signs that the whole thing had been