Lobo, Rag and Vixen | Page 8

to the camp and returned with a
cowboy and a fresh lasso. We threw to our victim a stick of wood
which he seized in his teeth, and before he could relinquish it our
lassoes whistled through the air and tightened on his neck.
Yet before the light had died from his fierce eyes, I cried, "Stay, we
will not kill him; let us take him alive to the camp." He was so
completely powerless now that it was easy to put a stout stick through
his mouth, behind his tusks, and then lash his jaws with a heavy cord
which was also fastened to the stick. The stick kept the cord in, and the
cord kept the stick in, so he was harmless. As soon as he felt his jaws
were tied he made no further resistance, and uttered no sound, but
looked calmly at us and seemed to say, "Well, you have got me at last,
do as you please with me." And from that time he took no more notice
of us.
We tied his feet securely, but he never groaned, nor growled, nor turned
his head. Then with our united strength we were just able to put him on
my horse. His breath came evenly as though sleeping, and his eyes
were bright and clear again, but did not rest on us. Afar on the great
rolling mesas they were fixed, his passing kingdom, where his famous
band was now scattered. And he gazed till the pony descended the
pathway into the cañon, and the rocks cut off the view.
By travelling slowly we reached the ranch in safety, and after securing
him with a collar and a strong chain, we staked him out in the pasture
and removed the cords. Then for the first time I could examine him
closely, and proved how unreliable is vulgar report where a living hero
or tyrant is concerned. He had not a collar of gold about his neck, nor

was there on his shoulders an inverted cross to denote that he had
leagued himself with Satan. But I did find on one haunch a great broad
scar, that tradition says was the fang-mark of Juno, the leader of
Tannerey's wolf-hounds--a mark which she gave him the moment
before he stretched her lifeless on the sand of the cañon.
* * * * *
I set meat and water beside him, but he paid no heed. He lay calmly on
his breast, and gazed with those steadfast yellow eyes away past me
down through the gateway of the cañon, over the open plains--his
plains--nor moved a muscle when I touched him. When the sun went
down he was still gazing fixedly across the prairie. I expected he would
call up his band when night came, and prepared for them, but he had
called once in his extremity, and none had come; he would never call
again.
* * * * *
A lion shorn of his strength, an eagle robbed of his freedom, or a dove
bereft of his mate, all die, it is said, of a broken heart; and who will
aver that this grim bandit could bear the threefold brunt, heart-whole?
This only I know, that when the morning dawned, he was lying there
still in his position of calm repose, but his spirit was gone-the old
king-wolf was dead.
* * * * *
I took the chain from his neck, a cowboy helped me to carry him to the
shed where lay the remains of Blanca, and as we laid him beside her,
the cattle-man exclaimed: "There, you would come to her, now you are
together again."

REDRUFF
THE STORY OF THE DON VALLEY PARTRIDGE
I
Down the wooded slope of Taylor's Hill the Mother Partridge led her
brood; down toward the crystal brook that by some strange whim was
called Mud Creek. Her little ones were one day old but already quick
on foot, and she was taking them for the first time to drink.
She walked slowly, crouching low as she went, for the woods were full
of enemies. She was uttering a soft little cluck in her throat, a call to the
little balls of mottled down that on their tiny pink legs came toddling

after, and peeping softly and plaintively if left even a few inches behind,
and seeming so fragile they made the very chicadees look big and
coarse. There were twelve of them, but Mother Grouse watched them
all, and she watched every bush and tree and thicket, and the whole
woods and the sky itself. Always for enemies she seemed
seeking--friends were too scarce to be looked for--and an enemy she
found. Away across the level beaver meadow was a great brute of a fox.
He was coming their