among the ranchmen, and each year a larger 

 price was set on his head, until at last ft reached 

 $i,ooo, an unparalleled wolf-bounty, surely; 

 many a good man has been hunted down for 

 less. Tempted by the promised reward, a 

 Texan ranger named Tannerey came one day 

 galloping up the canon of the Currumpaw, He 

 had a superb outfit for wolf-hunting — the best 

 of guns and horses, and a pack of enormous 

 wolf-hounds. Far out on the plains of the Pan»^ 

 handle, he and his dogs had killed many a wolf, 

 and now he never doubted that, within a few 

 days, old Lobo's scalp would dangle at his sad» 

 die-bow. 



Away they went bravely on their hunt in the 

 gray dawn of a summer morning, and soon the 

 great dogs gave jovous tongue to say that they 

 were already on the track of their quarry. 

 Within two miles, the grizzly band of Currura- 

 paw leaped into view, and the chase grew fast 

 and furious. The part of the wolf-hounds was 

 merely to hold the wolves at bay till the huwtcir 

 could ride up and shoot them, and this usually 

 was easy on the open plains of Texas ; but 

 here a new feature of the country came into 

 play, and showed how well Lobo had chosen 

 his range ; for the rocky canons of the Currum- 

 paw and its tributaries intersect the prairies in 



