Lobo 



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 saddle-bow. 



Away they went bravely on their hunt in the 

 gray dawn of a summer morning, and soon the 

 great dogs gave joyous tongue to say that they 

 were already on the track of their quarry. 

 Within two miles, the grizzly band of Cur- 

 rumpaw 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 

 hunter 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 

 every direction. The old wolf at once made 

 for the nearest of these and by crossing it 

 got rid of the horsemen. His band then scat- 

 tered and thereby scattered the dogs, and when 

 they reunited at a distant point of course all of 



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