496 



RECREATION 



Charleston Mountains, there lives a 

 halfbreed who has the roof of a large 

 shed covered with magnificent skulls 

 and horns, many of them now dessicat- 

 ing under the influence of the wind and 

 the sand and occasional rains, but many 

 others have been killed within a very 

 few months, some within the week. 

 There is, of course, a law against the 

 killing of these animals, but out here 

 on this rim of hell each man is a law 

 unto himself and no county will stand 

 the expense or the risk of sending a 

 trusted officer into such a country. All 

 the breeds stand in together like the 

 scales on a snake's back, hiding and 

 feeding any one of their kind who hap- 

 pens to be "wanted." 



Here, too, I saw a more wonder- 

 ful feat than any I had ever ex- 

 pected to see — the calling of coyotes, 

 little desert wolves, out of the night by 

 making sounds through one's fingers. 

 I have called heaven-borne ducks and 

 geese from out the blue of Pacific skies, 

 sent the wavering snipe whistle abroad 

 in the meadow, and brought the quail 

 from out many a chemise-bound can- 

 yon, but this thing was too much for 

 me. When I was at Randsburg a wan- 

 dering prospector told me of this feat, 

 but I thought it one of his lies until I 

 met a lad over there at the Springs, a 

 half-breed, whose father had come to 

 the country from Bonnie England for 

 cause, and who born of a Pahute moth- 

 er, combined all the craftiness of both 

 races. I never trusted him alone with 

 the guns or cameras for an instant, but 

 in some manner he conceived a crude 

 liking for me which culminated in his 

 asking me to go coyote hunting with 

 him on a certain day. 



Gf course I supposed we should go 

 on horseback, and when the appointed 

 day came and no boy, I thought noth- 

 ing of it save that he had told me an- 

 other lie. But he hadn't. Along about 

 five o'clock he drifted into camp, sat 

 himself down to the table, and ate his 

 fill of bacon and canned beef and toma- 

 toes. These seemed to be his special- 

 ties and he would eat little else, though 



we had many things which, I suspect, 

 he had never tasted. Then he asked 

 me if I were ready. I was dumbfound- 

 ed, and, when I started for my pony, he 

 called after me, "No ketchum horse, I 

 call urn." So we tramped away over 

 the sandhills, finally settling ourselves 

 down in a little draw which afforded 

 some view of a bit of the valley. He 

 had no weapon but his bow, I my rifle 

 and revolver, but soon he put his hands 

 to his lips and made the most perfect 

 imitation of the first note of a coyote's 

 long wail I have ever heard. He kept 

 this up for some little time, -and, pres- 

 ently, out of the blacker shadow's of the 

 sandhills, there came an answering call. 

 Soon others took up the refrain and the 

 hills rang with the wild ululations. 

 After a bit I saw him turn over on his 

 side, straighten his bow arm out and 

 select an arrow. Then staring ahead of 

 him, I saw a shadow shape come and 

 go across the dim light that fell on a 

 white patch of sand. Closer and closer 

 each time it came as, lower and more 

 low, my companion called, until I heard 

 the peculiar sifting sound of the re- 

 leased bowstring, saw the wandering 

 wolf leap into the air, paw wildly at 

 his side and then roll over, quite dead. 

 I got two and a fox with the rifle ; he 

 two more coyotes with the bow. He 

 shot but three arrows and brought in 

 three coyotes, but he was patience per- 

 sonified, and expert stillhunter, one 

 whom few Indians even could equal. 



Rabbits, as I have said, are quite 

 plentiful in suitable localities through- 

 out the valley, and we killed many, for 

 they were then fine and fat, filled with 

 a remarkably appetizing flavor, pre- 

 sumably from the large amount of dry 

 aromatic weeds they are forced to eat. 

 For most of these the rifle was neces- 

 sary. There was very little cover, and 

 snap shooting was not necessary, j but 

 neither could the hunter stalk His game 

 as he could in countries of greater weed 

 growth, therefore the shotgun was out 

 of the question until after we had 

 moved our camp. And this brings me 

 to where I wanted to be — our camp at 



