ALONG FOUR-FOOTED TRAILS 



and touched her nose with his. This was their 

 introduction. Then they talked to each other 

 in wolf language, by little low barks and whines, 

 as well as by touch and smell. This was re- 

 peated night after night for nearly three weeks 

 but seemed to have been only a preparation for 

 another episode. One evening in early March 

 the strange coyote sneaked through the grass 

 and over the fence earlier than usual. Finding 

 Bruno, he gnawed the strap from her neck and 

 led her away, unchained and free. The sun 

 had just sunk down below the western horizon, 

 leaving a deep and beautiful red border, which 

 tinted the whole heaven where earth and sky 

 seemed to meet. It was while enjoying this 

 beautiful sunset that 1 had noticed the large 

 coyote trotting up the hill with my little Bruno 

 limping along close by his side. I ran to the 

 kennel ; there was the chain and the torn strap. 

 My little coyote was gone. She had left of her 

 own free will to enter upon the wild life for 

 which she was intended. Perhaps she would 

 be happier with a mate. I loved her and would 

 be lonesome without her but should she be 

 happier I would be content. I was aroused 

 [.6] 



