THE COYOTE OF PELICAN POINT 35 



ually turned a back handspring and started for the 

 point. 



The dogs were hardly two hundred yards behind 

 him, and were making short work of the space be- 

 tween. It seemed hardly fair, and I must say that I 

 felt something like sympathy for the under dog, wild 

 dog though he was; the odds against him were so 

 great. 



But the coyote knew his track thoroughly, and 

 was taking advantage of the rough, loose, shelving 

 ground. For the farther out toward the end of the 



o 



point they ran, the narrower, rockier, and steeper 

 grew the peninsula, the more difficult and danger- 

 ous the footing. 



The coyote slanted along the side of the ridge, 

 and took a sloping slab of rock ahead of him with a 

 slow side-step and a climb that brought the dogs close 

 up behind him. They took the rock at a leap, slid 

 halfway across, and scrambling, rolled several yards 

 down the slope and lost all the gain they had 

 made. 



Things began to even up. The chase began to be 

 interesting. Here judgment was called for, as well as 

 speed. The cliff swallows swarmed out of their nests 

 under the overhanging rocks; the black cormorants 

 and great-winged pelicans saw their old enemy com- 

 ing, and rose, flapping, over the water; the circling 

 gulls dropped low between the runners; their strange 

 clangor and the stranger tropical shapes thick in 



