THE CLOWN OF THE PRAIRIES 97 
times relayed for miles. A leader mounts a lonely 
butte and proclaims his orders over the silent 
prairie. This proclamation is answered by re- 
peating coyotes a mile or more away. Farther 
away, at all points of the compass, it is repeated 
by others. And so, within a fraction of a 
minute, most of the coyotes within a ‘radius of 
miles have the latest news or the latest orders. 
Sometimes the stratum of air above the prairie 
is a mellow sounding-board; it clearly and un- 
resistingly transmits these wild wireless calls 
far across the ravines and hills of the prairie. 
The clear notes of a single coyote often ring 
distinctly across a radius of two or three miles. 
When groups congregate in valley concerts all 
the air between the near and the far-off hills 
vibrates with the wild, varying melody. This 
may reach a climax in a roar like the wind, 
then break up into a many-voiced yelping. 
I love to hear the shoutings and the far-off 
cries of the coyote. These elemental notes 
are those of pure gladness and wildness. To me 
they are not melancholy. Their rollicking con- 
certs remind me of the merry efforts of live 
boys. 
The calls of the coyote have a distinct place in 
the strangeness and wildness of the Great Plains. 
