ing sinister and purposeful in this concerted action and the
rest of the elk milled about uneasily and at last turned and trotted
off. The spike bull fought with hoof and horn, but at every turn a
coyote slashed him from behind, striking always at the hamstring. His
rage turned to fear and he fled. He struck the heavy four-foot drifts
where the wind had scoured the snow from the ridge above and sifted it
deep in the timber. His sharp hoofs and heavier weight let him deep into
the snow while the coyotes padded easily along, their feet sinking in
but a few inches. He tired himself with desperate charges at some coyote
that always eluded him while others drove fangs in him from behind. More
coyotes joined the running fight and he was far gone before Breed drove
through the pack and struck him with all the force of a killing wolf. He
spent the last of his ebbing strength in a whirlwind of furious
fighting, then went down and the yellow horde swarmed over him. They fed
long and when they left the feast they were no longer gaunt. Flanks had
filled out and paunches sagged heavily, nearly touching the snow. The
following night they returned to the kill and finished it. Then Breed
headed back for the open sagebrush foothills. The immediate fear of
being shot had departed, leaving only the lesson as a reminder of his
narrow escape.

The pack reached the edge of the hills in the first morning light and
many of them kept on, but Breed, more averse to daylight traveling than
they, would not venture down till night. The low country lay spread out
below him, ragged patches of brown alternating with those of dirty
white, the wind having scoured the snow from open grass-country and
piled it to the tops of the sage in the heavier clumps and in long
drifts trailing away downwind behind them, or packed it in the depths of
badland washes and cracks. The powdery snow had been swept from the open
before it had time to melt and the dry air of the hill country had
sucked up what little moisture remained, leaving the flats almost as
dusty as before.

With nightfall Breed descended to the tongue of the foothills that
reached up into the notch formed by the outcropping spur where it joined
the main range at right angles. Thirty miles east along this Hardpan
Spur was his home territory and he followed along the base of it. Not
till within ten miles of Collins' cabin did he howl. The wolfer heard
it, and again he had the feeling that he could almos