36 SUMMER 



the air gave the scene a wildness altogether new 

 to me. 



On fled the coyote; on bounded the dogs. He 

 would never escape ! Nothing without wings could 

 ever do it! Mere feet could never stand such a test! 

 The chances that pursued and pursuers took the 

 leaps the landings ! The whole slope seemed roll- 

 ing with stones, started by the feet of the runners. 



They were nearing the high, rough rocks of the 

 tip of the point. Between them and the ledges of the 

 point, and reaching from the edge of the water nearly 

 to the top of the ridge, lay the steep golden garden 

 of California poppies, blooming in the dry lava soil 

 that had crumbled and drifted down on the rocky 

 side. 



The coyote veered, and dashed down toward the 

 middle of the poppies ; the hounds hit the bed two 

 jumps behind. There was a cloud of dust, and 

 in it we saw an avalanche of dogs ploughing a wide 

 furrow through the flowers nearly down to the 

 water. Climbing slowly out near the upper edge of 

 the bed was the coyote, again with a good margin of 

 lead. 



But the beast was at the end of the point, and 

 nearing the end of his race. Had we been out of the 

 way, he might have turned and yet given the dogs 

 the slip for behind us lay the open desert^ 



Straight toward the rocks he headed, with the 

 hounds laboring up the slope after him. He was 



