226 BUFFALO LAND. 



" Where ? " " Hallo, Doctor ! " cried the guide, and 

 a voice from the woods, which was not echo, answered, 

 "Coming!" Again Buffalo Bill gifted his voice in 

 the solitude, and again came an answer, this time in 

 a form of query, "Is it developed, my boy ? If so, 

 classify it." And we answered that the birth in the 

 air had developed into wolves, and been classified as 

 the canis latrans, noisy and harmless. 



Finding that this new lesson in natural history had 

 taken away all desire for sleep, I finished the study 

 by the fire, with our guide for a tutor. 



The cayote (pronounced Ki-o-te), in its habits, is' a 

 villainous cross between a jackal and a wolf, feasting 

 on any kind of animal food obtainable, even unearth- 

 ing corpses negligently buried. With the large gray 

 wolf, the cayotes follow the herds of bison, generally 

 skulking along their outskirts, and feeding upon, the 

 wounded and outcasts. These latter are the old bulls 

 which, gaunt and stiff from age and spotted all over 

 with scars, are driven out of the herd by the stout 

 and jealous youngsters. Feeding alone, and weak 

 with the burden of years upon his immense shoulders, 

 the old bull is surrounded by the hungry pack. But 

 they dare not attack. One blow of that ponderous 

 head, with the weight of that shaggy hump be- 

 hind it, is still capable of knocking down a horse. 

 The veteran could fling his adversaries as nearly over 

 the moon as the cow ever jumped, if they only gave 

 him a chance. Like a grim old castle, he stands 

 there more than a match for any direct assault of 

 the army around. 



With the tact of our modern generals, a line of in- 



