THE SCAVENGERS 



trail, ankle deep in bitter dust that gets 

 up in the slow wind and moves along the 

 backs of the crawling cattle. In the worst 

 of times one in three will pine and fall out 

 by the way. In the defiles of Red Rock, 

 the sheep piled up a stinking lane ; it was 

 the sun smiting by day. To these sham- 

 bles came buzzards, vultures, and coyotes 

 from all the country round, so that on the 

 Tejon, the Ceriso, and the Little Antelope 

 there were not scavengers enough to keep 

 the country clean. All that summer the 

 dead mummified in the open or dropped 

 slowly back to earth in the quagmires of 

 the bitter springs. Meanwhile from Red 

 Rock to Coyote Holes, and from Coyote 

 Holes to Haiwai the scavengers gorged 

 and gorged. 



The coyote is not a scavenger by choice, 

 preferring his own kill, but being on the 

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