Coyote arvd the 'Coorv 
By LIEUT. S. A. WALLEN, Seventh Infantry. U. S. A. 
S. would not shoot the smaller ram, saying 
that he prefered to take his chance of running 
across something larger. He could easily have 
bagged it, as although at my shot the bunch 
quickly disappeared over the hill, the small ram 
kept stopping and gave several chances. My 
ram was a very good one, but I am sorry to 
say was scabby. On my previous trip the ram 
I shot was a little scabby, but not nearly as bad 
as this one. The scalp was quite useless. After 
skinning him out I returned to* camp for a mule 
to fgtch in the meat and S. went on. About 4 
o’clock in the afternoon he came into camp to 
fetch a mule to pack in his ram. He had again 
been successful. He is really the luckiest chap 
out shooting I have ever known. Although he 
was pretty well tired out he only waited a few 
minutes to snatch something to eat before he 
started again. He had also seen some peccary 
or wild pig, but had not fired at them. It was 
quite late befcre he got into camp; his ram was 
not nearly as good as mine and was also 
scabby. 
The next day when I awoke I found S. had 
already left, telling the Mexican that he would 
meet us at the train and not to worry about him. 
I took it easy and after packing the two mules 
with meat and heads and sending them on I had 
one more try for an antelope. I saw plenty, but 
get near them I could not, and as it was now 
getting late I made my way to the station where 
I found S. who had seen a splendid buck,'but 
in some way or other missed it. He told me the 
previous day he had fallen down and thought 
that he had knocked the sight of his rifle. He 
had also seen any amount of bear sign, but was 
rather glad he had not seen a bear, as if he had 
shot and missed it he never would have for¬ 
given himself. 
We had done well, two sheep, one deer, one 
antelope. Some day we are going back, tak¬ 
ing some good bear dogs with us to see if some¬ 
thing cannot be done with bruin. 
The.re are a good many peccaries, but I have 
never even had a shot at one. Other game is 
abundant, but I must own I do not like the idea 
of scab being among the sheep. I know from 
.personal experience that the outlook for the 
sheep is pretty hopeless. I remember in the Big 
Horn Mountains in Montana some twenty-two 
years ago scab was very bad, and the following 
year sheep were mighty scarce. Let us hope I 
may be a false prophet as far as these sheep are 
concerned. 
There are any amount of quail in Mexico as 
well as wild turkeys, and the expense of a trip 
is .not nearly as heavy as in the States, and I 
strongly recommend sporting Americans to give 
it a trial. Of course, to anyone not speaking 
Spanish an interpreter would be absolutely neces¬ 
sary, but one is easily obtainable. Ducks and 
geese simply swarm on the rivers and lakes and 
as I said before there is nothing to hamper you 
in any way. The commonest bear is, of course, 
the black, but there are a good many silver tip. 
One old Mexican hunter told me he knew of 
one large deer with very large horns and red¬ 
dish in color which he was determined to kill 
this year. I suppose this must be some old lone 
wapiti bull who has in some way wandered down 
from Oregon somehow. If it should turn out 
to be a wapiti I will, if I can, let your readers 
know, as this is the only instance I have heard 
of wapiti being in Mexico. 
C OYOTE was lying in the sun on the porch 
of Quarters No. 3, at the military post of 
Fort Bliss, Texas. He was stretched out 
at full length and quite at his ease. In the first 
place it was his master’s house—therefore equally 
MAKING READY FOR THE TRAIL. 
his. In the second, the sun was of just that 
degree of warmth which his fastidious taste 
approved. 
Coyote was not a domesticated prairie wolf, 
despite his name. In his post-puppy days he 
had borne a fancied resemblance to the little 
wolves; and this, with the fact that his ancestry 
was entirely unknown, had led to his receiving 
the name. A “son of the wolf,” for all any one 
knew to the contrary, he now appeared to be 
merely a handsome collie, yellowish red with 
white markings; apd extremely slight in build 
and gentle in manner. His general air sug¬ 
gested a courteous, dainty, but rather diffident 
personality; indeed, he was a very quiet dog: 
but there was a fresh gash three inches long 
on one of his flanks that showed rather grimly 
as he lay in the sun. Elsewhere he had several 
other recent wounds hidden beneath his long 
hair. All had been received within the week 
in a little affair with seven other dogs, averag¬ 
ing about his own weight, but of more boister¬ 
ous habits. All of the seven had finally taken 
to their heels, and with good reason, since each 
of, them had received mementos from their 
demure antagonist’s teeth sufficient to remind 
thefn of the fight “while life should last.” A 
substantial collar, well-nigh cut in two, which 
the collie’s master removed from his neck while 
dressing his wounds after the battle, suggested 
that at least one of the attacking mob must 
have been a formidable foe. Possibly the latter 
was identical with the stout warrior whom 
Coyote furiously assaulted a few days later 
without apparent cause. The big fight had 
occurred at night, and the exact identity of the 
collie’s assailants was uncertain; but his master 
more than suspected that the dog he barely 
succeeded in saving by his prompt interference 
was one of the guilty parties. 
Coyote was no rowdy, dearly as he loved a 
fight, and he seldom or never seriously 
assaulted a fellow canine without good reason. 
A glance at the dog’s ears would have revealed 
the fact that one of them was slightly deformed. 
This was the result of a too liberal application 
of fuming nitric acid to that member long ago. 
Nearly two years before a mad pointer had ap¬ 
peared on the parade ground one morning. 
Coyote was there at the heels of his master. 
Some fifteen or twenty other dogs were also 
within view. The. instant the rabid dog was 
seen these latter fled, The collie stood his 
ground, thougli evidently badly scared. For 
Coyote’s master this proved most fortunate, 
since the mad dog proceeded to attack him. . A 
few moments later a badly chewed and raving 
collie was pried loose from the dead body of the 
pointer—hence the acid and the disfigured ear. 
A close investigation would have revealed a 
hundred other scars, each the silent witness to 
some desperate encounter. In brief, the dif¬ 
fidence of Coyote was something like the bash- ' 
fulness of Mr. White’s “Alfred”—not to be 
safely taken at its face value. . _ ' 
Presently a step in the hall behind him caused . | 
the yellow knight to raise his head; and, when 
his master, a young lieutenant then in com- 1 
mand of Company F of the 25th Infantry, ap¬ 
peared the collie was on his feet and ready for • 
the stroll to which he was forthwith invited. 
The officer’s business carried him across the 
parade, shining white with alkali under the 
blazing sun, to the barracks of Company F. He 
inspected the quarters, finding everything neat 
and clean, as was usually the case. 
Coyote also made the rounds and greeted his 
frjends cordially, not being bound by the same • 
restrictions of discipline as his master. Both 1 
spent some time then in the company orderly ' 
room, the officer examining and signing a col¬ 
lection of official papers and the dog going to 1 
sleep in his favorite spot beneath the large 
table. He was a firm believer in the Sioux- 
brave’s theory of life, namely, that it is divided | 
