right, pitted against unfair
unprovoked attack.

And Chink had a rude awakening; his war-whoops gave place to yelps of
dire distress, as he wheeled and made for home. But the Coyote could run
all around him, and nipped him, here and there, and when he would, and
seemed to be cracking a series of good jokes at Chink's expense, nor
ever stopped till the ambitious one of boundless indiscretion was hidden
under his master's bed.

This seemed very funny at the time, and I am afraid Chink did not get
the sympathy he was entitled to, for after all he was merely carrying
out orders. But he made up his mind that from that time on, orders or no
orders, he would let Coyotes very much alone. They were not so easy as
they looked.

[Illustration]

The Coyote, however, had discovered a new amusement. From that day he
simply "laid" for that little dog, and if he found him a hundred yards
or so from camp, would chase and race him back in terror to some
shelter. At last things got so bad that if we went for a ride even, and
Chink followed us, the Coyote would come along, too, and continue his
usual amusement.

At first it was funny, and then it became tedious, and at last it was
deeply resented by Chink's master. A man feels for his dog; he wasn't
going to stand still and see his dog abused. He began to grumble vaguely
about "If something didn't happen pretty soon, something else would."
Just what he meant I didn't ask, but I know that the Coyote disappeared
one day, and never was seen or heard of again. I'm not supposed to know
any thing about it, but I have my suspicions, although in those days the
Coyote was a protected animal.

HIS DISTINGUISHING GIFT

The scientific name of the Coyote (_Canis latrans_), literally "Barking
Dog," is given for the wonderful yapping chorus with which they seldom
fail to announce their presence in the evening, as they gather at a safe
distance from the campfire. Those not accustomed to the sound are very
ready to think that they are surrounded by a great pack of ravening
Wolves, and get a sufficiently satisfactory thrill of mingled emotions
at the sound. But the guide will reassure you by saying that that great
pack of howling Wolves is nothing more than a harmless little Coyote,
perhaps two, singing their customary vesper song, demonstrating their
wonderful vocal powers. Their usual music begins with a few growling,
gurgling yaps which are rapidly increased in volume and heightened in
pitch