The Last of the Plainsmen 



eyes it was even stranger to drive a train of mad 

 dogs. Yet that was what Rea and he did, and lashed 

 them, beat them to cover many miles in the long day s 

 journey. Rabies had broken out in several dogs so 

 alarmingly that Jones had to kill them at the end of 

 the run. And hardly had the sound of the shots 

 died when faint and far away, but clear as a bell, 

 bayed on the wind the same haunting mourn of a 

 trailing wolf. 



&quot; Ho ! Ho ! where are the wolves? &quot; cried Rea. 



A waiting, watching, sleepless night followed. 

 Again the hunters faced the south. Hour after 

 hour, riding, running, walking, they urged the poor, 

 jaded, poisoned dogs. At dark they reached the 

 head of Artillery Lake. Rea placed the tepee 

 between two huge stones. Then the hungry hunters, 

 tired, grim, silent, desperate, awaited the familiar 

 cry. 



It came on the cold wind, the same haunting 

 mourn, dreadful in its significance. 



Absence of fire inspirited the wary wolves. Out 

 of the pale gloom gaunt white forms emerged, agile 

 and stealthy, slipping on velvet-padded feet, closer, 

 closer, closer. The dogs wailed in terror. 



&quot; Into the tepee! &quot; yelled Rea, 



Jones plunged in after his comrade. The despair 

 ing howls of the dogs, drowned in more savage, 



186 



