THE GREYHOUND IN ACTION. 185 * 



trichina. The cactus may be set down as Dame Na- 

 ture's pin-cushions. 



Endless prairie-dog villages covered the country, 

 and occasionally cayotes, about the size of setters, 

 with brushy, fox-like tails, started out of ravines and 

 ran off with a hang-dog sort of look, stopping occa- 

 sionally to see if they were being pursued. Our guide 

 ran one of these down with his horse and it was al- 

 most with sympathy that we watched the tired wolf, 

 when he found running useless, dodging between the 

 horse's legs, rendering the rider's aim false. It was 

 finally dispatched by a greyhound. The latter de- 

 served his name only from courtesy of species, as his 

 color was inky black. He belonged to one of our 

 hostlers, who got him from a Mexican train-master, 

 and was a wonderful fighter. I saw him afterward 

 in combats with not only the cayote, but the 

 large timber wolf, and in every instance he came off 

 the victor. On one occasion, I remember, he whipped 

 the combined curs of a railroad tie camp, making 

 every antagonist take to his heels. Very nearly as 

 high as a table, with powerful chest and immense 

 spring, the hound's movements were like flashes 

 of light. He danced round and over his foe, his 

 fangs clicking like a steel trap, first on one side and 

 now on the other, and again, ere his enemy had closed 

 its jaws on the shadow in front, he was at the rear 

 I have seen a gray wolf bleeding and helpless, and 

 the hound untouched, after a half hour's combat. 



On the north fork of Big Creek we frightened a 

 dozen antelopes out of the brakes, and had a fine 

 opportunity of witnessing a chase by the hound which 



