Johnny Bear, and Other Stories from Lives of the Hunted

  The Hen he now took to a broad open place near where he had seenSaddle-back, and there he tethered her to a stick of wood that she couldbarely drag. Then he made himself comfortable on a look-out that wasnear, and lay still to watch. The Hen, of course, ran to the end of thestring, and then lay on the ground flopping stupidly. Presently the loggave enough to ease the strain, she turned by mere chance in anotherdirection, and so, for a time, stood up to look around.

  The day went slowly by, and Jake lazily stretched himself on the blanketin his spying-place. Toward evening Tito came by on a hunt. This was notsurprising, for the den was only half a mile away. Tito had learned,among other rules, this, "Never show yourself on the sky-line." Informer days the Coyotes used to trot along the tops of the ridges forthe sake of the chance to watch both sides. But men and guns had taughtTito that in this way you are sure to be seen. She therefore made apractice of running along near the top, and once in a while peepingover.

  This was what she did that evening as she went out to hunt for thechildren's supper, and her keen eyes fell on the white Hen, stupidlystalking about and turning up its eyes in a wise way each time aharmless Turkey-buzzard came in sight against a huge white cloud.

  Tito was puzzled. This was something new. It _looked_ like game, butshe feared to take any chances. She circled all around without showingherself, then decided that, whatever it might be, it was better letalone. As she passed on, a fault whiff of smoke caught her attention.She followed cautiously, and under a butte far from the Hen she foundJake's camp. His bed was there, his Horse was picketed, and on theremains of the fire was a pot which gave out a smell which she well knewabout men's camps--the smell of coffee. Tito felt uneasy at this proofthat a man was staying so near her home, but she went off quietly on herhunt, keeping out of sight, and Jake knew nothing of her visit.

  About sundown he took in his decoy Hen, as Owls were abundant, and wentback to his camp.

  XI.

  Next day the Hen was again put out, and late that afternoon Saddlebackcame trotting by. As soon as his eye fell on the white Hen he stoppedshort, his head on one side, and gazed. Then he circled to get the wind,and went cautiously sneaking nearer, very cautiously, somewhat puzzled,till he got a whiff that reminded him of the place where he had foundthose Turkeys. The Hen took alarm, and tried to run away; but Saddlebackmade a rush, seized the Hen so fiercely that the string was broken, andaway he dashed toward the home valley.

  Jake had fallen asleep, but the squawk of the Hen happened to awakenhim, and he sat up in time to see her borne away in old Saddleback'sjaws.

  As soon as they were out of sight Jake took up the white-feather trail.At first it was easily followed, for the Hen had shed plenty of plumesin her struggles; but once she was dead in Saddleback's jaws, very fewfeathers were dropped except where she was carried through the brush.But Jake was following quietly and certainly, for Saddleback had gonenearly in a straight line home to the little ones with the dangeroustell-tale prize. Once or twice there was a puzzling delay when theCoyote had changed his course or gone over an open place; but one whitefeather was good for fifty yards, and when the daylight was gone, Jakewas not two hundred yards from the hollow, in which at that very momentwere the nine little pups, having a perfectly delightful time with theHen, pulling it to pieces, feasting and growling, sneezing the whitefeathers from their noses or coughing them from their throats.

  If a puff of wind had now blown from them toward Jake, it might havecarried a flurry of snowy plumes or even the merry cries of the littlerevellers, and the den would have been discovered at once. But, as luckwould have it, the evening lull was on, and all distant sounds werehidden by the crashing that Jake made in trying to trace his featherguides through the last thicket.

  About this time Tito was returning home with a Magpie that she hadcaptured by watching till it went to feed within the ribs of a deadHorse, when she ran across Jake's trail. Now, a man on foot is alwaysa suspicious character in this country. She followed the trail for alittle to see where he was going, and that she knew at once from thescent. How it tells her no one can say, yet all hunters know that itdoes. And Tito marked that it was going straight toward her home.Thrilled with new fear, she hid the bird she was carrying, then followedthe trail of the man. Within a few minutes she could hear him in thethicket, and Tito realized the terrible danger that was threatening. Shewent swiftly, quietly around to the den hollow, came on the heedlesslittle roisterers, after giving the signal-call, which prevented themtaking alarm at her approach; but she must have had a shock when shesaw how marked the hollow and the den were now, all drifted over withfeathers white as snow. Then she gave the danger-call that sent them allto earth, and the little glade was still.

  Her own nose was so thoroughly and always her guide that it was notlikely she thought of the white-feathers being the telltale. But now sherealized that a man, one she knew of old as a treacherous character, onewhose scent had always meant mischief to her, that had been associatedwith all her own troubles and the cause of nearly all her desperatedanger, was close to her darlings; was tracking them down, in a fewminutes would surely have them in his merciless power.

  Oh, the wrench to the mother's heart at the thought of what she couldforesee! But the warmth of the mother-love lent life to the mother-wit.Having sent her little ones out of sight, and by a sign conveyed toSaddleback her alarm, she swiftly came back to the man, then she crossedbefore him, thinking, in her half-reasoning way, that the man _must_be following a foot-scent just as she herself would do, but would, ofcourse, take the stronger line of tracks she was now laying. She did notrealize that the failing daylight made any difference. Then she trottedto one side, and to make doubly sure of being followed, she uttered thefiercest challenge she could, just as many a time she had done to makethe Dogs pursue her:

  Grrr-wow-wow-wa-a-a-a-h,

  and stood still; then ran a little nearer and did it again, and thenagain much nearer, and repeated her bark, she was so determined that thewolver should follow her.

  Of course the wolver could see nothing of the Coyote, for the shadeswere falling. He had to give up the hunt anyway. His understanding ofthe details was as different as possible from that the Mother Coyotehad, and yet it came to the same thing. He recognized that the Coyote'sbark was the voice of the distressed mother trying to call him away. Sohe knew the brood must be close at hand, and all he now had to do wasreturn in the morning and complete his search. So he made his way backto his camp.

  XII.

  Saddleback thought they had won the victory. He felt secure, because thefoot-scent that he might have supposed the man to be following would bestale by morning. Tito did not feel so safe. That two-legged beast wasclose to her home and her little ones; had barely been turned aside;might come back yet.

  The wolver watered and repicketed his Horse, kindled the fire anew, madehis coffee and ate his evening meal, then smoked awhile before lyingdown to sleep, thinking occasionally of the little woolly scalps heexpected to gather in the morning.

  He was about to roll up in his blanket when, out of the dark distance,there sounded the evening cry of the Coyote, the rolling challenge ofmore than one voice. Jake grinned in fiendish glee, and said: "There youare all right. Howl some more. I'll see you in the morning."

  It was the ordinary, or rather _one_ of the ordinary, camp-calls of theCoyote. It was sounded once, and then all was still. Jake soon forgot itin his loggish slumber.

  The callers were Tito and Saddleback. The challenge was not an emptybluff. It had a distinct purpose behind it--to know for sure whether theenemy had any dogs with him; and because there was no responsive barkTito knew that he had none.

  Then Tito waited for an hour or so till the flickering fire had gonedead, and the only sound of life about the camp was the cropping of thegrass by the picketed Horse. Tito crept near softly, so softly that theHorse did not see her till she was within twenty feet; then he gave astart that swung the tightened picket-rope up into the air, and snortedgently. Tito we
nt quietly forward, and opening her wide gape, took therope in, almost under her ears, between the great scissor-like backteeth, then chewed it for a few seconds. The fibres quickly frayed, and,aided by the strain the nervous Horse still kept up, the last of thestrands gave way, and the Horse was free. He was not much alarmed; heknew the smell of Coyote; and after jumping three steps and walking six,he stopped.

  The sounding thumps of his hoofs on the ground awoke the sleeper. Helooked up, but, seeing the Horse standing there, he went calmly off tosleep again, supposing that all went well.

  Tito had sneaked away, but she now returned like a shadow, avoided thesleeper, but came around, sniffed doubtfully at the coffee, and thenpuzzled over a tin can, while Saddleback examined the frying-pan full of"camp-sinkers" and then defiled both cakes and pan with dirt. The bridlehung on a low bush; the Coyotes did not know what it was, but just forluck they cut it into several pieces, then, taking the sacks that heldJake's bacon and flour, they carried them far away and buried them inthe sand.

  Having done all the mischief she could, Tito, followed by her mate, nowset off for a wooded gully some miles away, where was a hole that hadbeen made first by a Chipmunk, but enlarged by several other animals,including a Fox that had tried to dig out its occupants. Tito stoppedand looked at many possible places before she settled on this. Then sheset to work to dig. Saddleback had followed in a half-comprehending way,till he saw what she was doing. Then when she, tired with digging, cameout, he went into the hole, and after snuffing about went on with thework, throwing out the earth between his hind legs; and when it waspiled up behind he would come out and push it yet farther away.

  And so they worked for hours, not a word said and yet with a sufficientcomprehension of the object in view to work in relief of each other. Andby the time the morning came they had a den big enough to do for theirhome, in case they must move, though it would not compare with the onein the grassy hollow.

  XIII.

  It was nearly sunrise before the wolver awoke. With the true instinctof a plainsman he turned to look for his Horse. _It was gone_. What hisship is to the sailor, what wings are to the Bird, what money is to themerchant, the Horse is to the plainsman. Without it he is helpless, lostat sea, wing broken, crippled in business. Afoot on the plains is thesum of earthly terrors. Even Jake realized this, and ere his foggy witshad fully felt the shock he sighted the steed afar on a flat, grazingand stepping ever farther from the camp. At a second glance Jake noticedthat the Horse was trailing the rope. If the rope had been left behindJake would have known that it was hopeless to try to catch him; he wouldhave finished his den-hunt and found the little Coyotes. But, with thetrailing rope, there was a good chance of catching the Horse; so Jakeset out to try.

  Of all the maddening things there is nothing worse than to be almost,but not quite, able to catch your Horse. Do what he might, Jake couldnot get quite near enough to seize that short rope, and the Horse ledhim on and on, until at last they were well on the homeward trail.

  Now Jake was afoot anyhow, so seeing no better plan, he set out tofollow that Horse right back to the Ranch.

  But when about seven miles were covered Jake succeeded in catching him.He rigged up a rough _jaquima_ with the rope and rode barebacked infifteen minutes over the three miles that lay between him and theSheep-ranch, giving vent all the way to his pent-up feelings in cruelabuse of that Horse. Of course it did not do any good, and he knew that,but he considered it was heaps of satisfaction. Here Jake got a mealand borrowed a saddle and a mongrel Hound that could run a trail, andreturned late in the afternoon to finish his den-hunt. Had he known it,he now could have found it without the aid of the cur, for it was reallyclose at hand when he took up the feather-trail where he last had leftit. Within one hundred yards he rose to the top of the little ridge;then just over it, almost face to face, he came on a Coyote, carrying inits mouth a large Rabbit. The Coyote leaped just at the same moment thatJake fired his revolver, and the Dog broke into a fierce yelling anddashed off in pursuit, while Jake blazed and blazed away, withouteffect, and wondered why the Coyote should still hang on to that Rabbitas she ran for her life with the Dog yelling at her heels. Jake followedas far as he could and fired at each chance, but scored no hit. So whenthey had vanished among the buttes he left the Dog to follow or comeback as he pleased, while he returned to the den, which, of course, wasplain enough now. Jake knew that the pups were there yet. Had he notseen the mother bringing a Rabbit for them?

  So he set to work with pick and shovel all the rest of that day. Therewere plenty of signs that the den had inhabitants, and, duly encouraged,he dug on, and after several hours of the hardest work he had ever done,he came to the end of the den--_only to find it empty_. After cursinghis luck at the first shock of disgust, he put on his strong leatherglove and groped about in the nest. He felt something firm and drew itout. It was the head and neck of his own Turkey Gobbler, and that wasall he got for his pains.

  XIV.

  Tito had not been idle during the time that the enemy was Horse-hunting.Whatever Saddleback might have done, Tito would live in no fool'sparadise. Having finished the new den, she trotted back to the littlevalley of feathers, and the first young one that came to meet her at thedoor of this home was a broad-headed one much like herself. She seizedhim by the neck and set off, carrying him across country toward thenew den, a couple of miles away. Every little while she had to put heroffspring down to rest and give it a chance to breathe. This made themoving slow, and the labour of transporting the pups occupied all thatday, for Saddleback was not allowed to carry any of them, probablybecause he was too rough. Beginning with the biggest and brightest, theywere carried away one at a time, and late in the afternoon only the runtwas left. Tito had not only worked at digging all night, she had alsotrotted over thirty miles, half of it with a heavy baby to carry. Butshe did not rest. She was just coming out of the den, carrying heryoungest in her mouth, when over the very edge of this hollow appearedthe mongrel Hound, and a little way behind him Wolver Jake.

  Away went Tito, holding the baby tight, and away went the Dog behindher.

  _Bang! bang! bang!_ said the revolver.

  But not a shot touched her. Then over the ridge they dashed, where therevolver could not reach her, and sped across a flat, the tired Coyoteand her baby, and the big fierce Hound behind her, bounding his hardest.Had she been fresh and unweighted she could soon have left the clumsycur that now was barking furiously on her track and rather gaining thanlosing in the race. But she put forth all her strength, careered along aslope, where she gained a little, then down across a brushy flat wherethe cruel bushes robbed her of all she had gained. But again into theopen they came, and the wolver, labouring far behind, got sight of themand fired again and again with his revolver, and only stirred the dust,but still it made her dodge and lose time, and it also spurred the Dog.The hunter saw the Coyote, his old acquaintance of the bobtail, carryingstill, as he thought, the Jack-rabbit she had been bringing to herbrood, and wondered at her strange persistence.

  "Why doesn't she drop that weight when flying for her life?" But on shewent and gamely bore her load over the hills, the man cursing his luckthat he had not brought his Horse, and the mongrel bounding in deadlyearnest but thirty feet behind her. Then suddenly in front of Titoyawned a little cut-bank gully. Tired and weighted, she dared not trythe leap; she skirted around. But the Dog was fresh; he cleared iteasily, 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 thedangerous bayonet-spikes; but straining too much, for the helpless cubwas 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. Shetried 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 asudden wrench jerked him from her mouth into the grass--into the powerof the merciless Hound. Tito was far smaller than the Dog; ordinarilyshe would have held him in fear; but her {Illu
stration: Tito's Race ForLife} little one, her baby, was the only thought now, and as the brutesprang forward to tear it in his wicked jaws, she leaped between andstood facing him with all her mane erect, her teeth exposed, and plainlyshowed her resolve to save her young one at any price. The Dog was notbrave, 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 tremblinglittle Coyote, that tried to hide in the grass, the cur hesitated amoment, 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,

  and made the buttes around re-echo so that Jake could not tell where itcame from; but someone else there was that heard and did know whence itcame. The Dog's courage revived on hearing something like a far-awayshout. Again he sprang at the little one, but again the mother balkedhim with her own body, and then they closed in deadly struggle. "Oh, ifSaddleback would only come!" But no one came, and now she had no furtherchance to call. Weight is everything in a closing fight, and Tito soonwent down, bravely fighting to the last, but clearly worsted; and theHound's courage grew with the sight of victory, and all he thought ofnow was to finish her and then kill her helpless baby in its turn. Hehad no ears or eyes for any other thing, till out of the nearest sagethere flashed a streak of grey, and in a trice the big-voiced cowardwas hurled back by a foe almost as heavy as himself--hurled back with acrippled shoulder. Dash, chop, and staunch old Saddleback sprang on himagain. Tito struggled to her feet, and they closed on him together. Hiscourage fled at once when he saw the odds, and all he wanted now wassafe escape--escape from Saddleback, whose speed was like the wind,escape from Tito, whose baby's life was at stake. Not twenty jumps awaydid he get; not breath enough had he to howl for help to his master inthe distant hills; not fifteen yards away from her little one that hemeant to tear, they tore him all to bits.