fire and poison,
alone held the fighting line. To see their cattle fall to feed the
wolves, helpless to relieve, was a bitter cup to the struggling boys.

A single incident broke the monotony of the daily grind. One morning
near the end of the fifth week, when the boys rode to the corral at an
early hour, in order to learn the result of poison, a light kill of
wolves lay in sight around the open water. While they were attempting to
make a rough count of the dead from horseback, a wolf, supposed to be
poisoned, sprang fully six feet into the air, snapping left and right
before falling to the ground. Nothing but the agility of Rowdy saved
himself or rider, who was nearly unhorsed, from being maimed or killed
from the vicious, instant assault.

The brothers withdrew to a point of safety. Joel was blanched to the
color of the snow, his horse trembled in every muscle, but Dell shook
out his rope.

"Hold on," urged Joel, gasping for breath. "Hold on. That's a mad wolf,
or else it's dying."

"He's poisoned," replied Dell. "See how he lays his head back on his
flank. It's the griping of the poison. Half of them die in just that
position. I'm going to rope and drag him to death."

But the crunching of the horse's feet in the snow aroused the victim,
and he again sprang wildly upward, snapping as before, and revealing
fangs that bespoke danger. Struggling to its feet, the wolf ran
aimlessly in a circle, gradually enlarging until it struck a strand of
wire in the corral fence, the rebound of which threw the animal flat,
when it again curled its head backward and lay quiet.

"Rope it," said Joel firmly, shaking out his own lasso. "If it gets into
that corral it will kill a dozen cattle. That I've got a live horse
under me this minute is because that wolf missed Rowdy's neck by a
hand-breadth."

The trampled condition of the snow around the corral favored approach.
Dell made a long but perfect throw, the wolf springing as the rope
settled, closing with one foot through the loop. The rope was cautiously
wrapped to the pommel, could be freed in an instant, and whirling
Dog-toe, his rider reined the horse out over the lane leading to the
herd's feeding ground to the south. The first quarter of a mile was an
indistinct blur, out of which a horse might be seen, then a boy, or a
wolf arose on wings and soared for an instant. Suddenly the horse
doubled back over the lane, and as his rider shot past Joel, a fire of
requests was va