Hunting in Many Lands 



and for the next few minutes all my ener- 

 gies were devoted to sticking to my horse, 

 who then and there in the creek bed pro- 

 ceeded to give an illustration of bucking that 

 would have put the wild West buckers to 

 shame. Lead had jumped a coyote that put 

 off with all the speed that deadly terror could 

 impart — all the dogs after him full tilt. It re- 

 quired quite a display of energy upon the part 

 of Zach and his pinto to whip the dogs off; 

 and, had it not been for the fact that Dan and 

 Scotty — who had jerked Steamboat literally 

 out of the buckboard and raced off together 

 with the slips dangling about their heels — ran 

 into a bush, and the slips catching held them 

 fast, we would have been called upon to par- 

 ticipate in a coyote and not a wolf-hunt — as, 

 when once slipped, no human power could 

 have stopped these dogs until they had tested 

 the metal of Brer Coyote. By the time Zach 

 and the dogs returned, I had convinced my 

 broncho that I was not a tenderfoot, having 

 "been there before," and he was contented to 

 keep at least two feet upon the ground at the 

 same time. 



We rode probably five or six miles, carefully 

 scanning the trackless plains, without sighting 



330 



