Iv THE HOUND OF THE PLAINS Ill 
of her den, and the four whelps romping in the 
sunshine. The father of this family kept out of 
sight, but the second day I caught sight of him in 
pursuit of a doe antelope and her fawn. 
The doe was backing away on the plain, keep- 
ing the little one, who seemed to understand its 
part perfectly, close to her hind legs. Following 
her closely was the wolf, frequently making a dash 
to the right or left, to get at the fawn, but each 
time the brave little mother, whirling alertly, would 
present to him her lowered head, and make a dash 
at his skull with her sharp fore hoofs. Thus she 
retreated; but I fear that the pursuer’s longer 
breath and varied tactics won the day at last. It 
is said that this wolf can even kill the rattlesnake, 
by sheer quickness of onslaught. 
A prime characteristic of the coyote is his aston- 
ishing voice, which differs so much from the well- 
known wolfish howl of other members of his race 
as to have suggested the specific name Canzs 
latvans, or barking wolf. It begins with a series 
of sharp yelps which quickly run into a prolonged 
howl that may strike you as dismal or simply in- 
teresting — hardly alarming —as you happen to 
feel. Often these yelps and howls are repeated 
with such rapidity and ventriloquistic force, as to 
seem to fill the whole horizon, and the unsophisti- 
cated traveller will be certain a large pack is near 
him, when in fact the whole clamor is raised by 
one, or at most two, lean and hungry barkers. 
