Following the Lowland Wolf I09 



The dogs relieved each other in running ; one would 

 take the lead for a few moments, then drop back as 

 another surged to the front, the effort of keeping to 

 the fore being exhausting. But gradually they drew 

 ahead. Suddenly the coyote swerved, turned sharp 

 around, and dashed down into a narrow wash over 

 which we went ; some caving in the treacherous earth ; 

 others cleaving it ; the dogs piling in, then on franti- 

 cally as the coyote appeared farther down. 



The trick was well played, the game gaining two 

 hundred feet, and then it was a race for the foothills. 

 It is the unexpected that happens. Suddenly a barb- 

 wire fence appeared. In some marvellous manner the 

 coyote squirmed beneath it and sped away to the hills, 

 while the hunt lined up and the master of the hounds 

 leaped to the ground to prevent the hounds from cut- 

 ting themselves in their desperate attempt to follow. 

 The horses had made a splendid run of three or four 

 miles at racing speed, and after a rest the fence was 

 opened and the hunt continued. 



The coyote by this time was in the Mission Hills, so 

 the riders and hounds followed up one of the caftons 

 that cut through the range, reaching the south slope ; 

 then, in pursuance of a definite plan, spread out in a 

 long line and mounted the steep slopes, using the sheep- 

 trails as pathways. The hills were like green velvet 

 mounds, and part of a range called the Puente or Mis- 

 sion Hills, running parallel with the Sierra Madre, and 

 farther down growing larger, near Santiago Cafton, there 



