The Coyotes had learned to avoid the open. They generally went homeward
along the sheltered hollows; but this was not always possible, and one
day, while exercising his arduous profession in the country west of
Chimney Butte, Jake's glasses and glance fell by chance on a dark spot
which moved along an open hillside. It was grey, and it looked like
this: and even Jake knew that that meant Coyote. If it had been a grey
Wolf it would have been so: with tail up. A Fox would have looked so:
the large ears and tail and the yellow colour would have marked it. And
a Deer would have looked so: That dark shade from the front end meant
something in his mouth--probably something being carried home--and that
would mean a den of little ones.

[Illustration]

He made careful note of the place, and returned there next day to watch,
selecting a high butte near where he had seen the Coyote carrying the
food. But all day passed, and he saw nothing. Next day, however, he
descried a dark Coyote, old Saddleback, carrying a large Bird, and by
the help of the glasses he made out that it was a Turkey, and then he
knew that the yard at home was quite empty, and he also knew where the
rest of them had gone, and vowed terrible vengeance when he should find
the den. He followed Saddleback with his eyes as far as possible, and
that was no great way, then went to the place to see if he could track
him any farther; but he found no guiding signs, and he did not chance on
the little hollow the was the playground of Tito's brood.

Meanwhile Saddleback came to the little hollow and gave the low call
that always conjured from the earth the unruly procession of the nine
riotous little pups, and they dashed at the Turkey and pulled and