still, as he thought, the Jack-rabbit she had been bringing to her
brood, and wondered at her strange persistence.

"Why doesn't she drop that weight when flying for her life?" But on she
went and gamely bore her load over the hills, the man cursing his luck
that he had not brought his Horse, and the mongrel bounding in deadly
earnest but thirty feet behind her. Then suddenly in front of Tito
yawned a little cut-bank gully. Tired and weighted, she dared not try
the leap; she skirted around. But the Dog was fresh; he cleared it
easily, and the mother's start was cut down by half. But on she went,
straining to hold the little one high above the scratching brush and the
dangerous bayonet-spikes; but straining too much, for the helpless cub
was choking in his mother's grip. She must lay him down or strangle him;
with such a weight she could not much longer keep out of reach. She
tried to give the howl for help, but her voice was muffled by the cub,
now struggling for breath, and as she tried to ease her grip on him a
sudden wrench jerked him from her mouth into the grass--into the power
of the merciless Hound. Tito was far smaller than the Dog; ordinarily
she would have held him in fear; but her [Illustration: Tito's Race For
Life] little one, her baby, was the only thought now, and as the brute
sprang forward to tear it in his wicked jaws, she leaped between and
stood facing him with all her mane erect, her teeth exposed, and plainly
showed her resolve to save her young one at any price. The Dog was not
brave, only confident that he was bigger and had the man behind him.
But the man was far away, and balked in his first rush at the trembling
little Coyote, that tried to hide in the grass, the cur hesitated a
moment, and Tito howled the long howl for help--the muster-call:

Yap-yap-yap-yah-yah-yah-h-h-h-h Yap-yap-yap-yah-yah-yah-h-h-h-h,