e that I was not prepared for what
happened. At the shot Lakota gave a leap to the right and I went off to
the left. I had no more than landed when a rider, whom I had seen lope
up out of the coulee as the eagle fell, had my horse by the bit and was
bending over me.

"Hurt?" he asked.

"I don't think so. Just scared," I replied as I got stiffly to my feet.
The soft, thick grass had provided a cushioned landing place and saved
my bones.

The stranger took a canteen from his saddle and gave me a drink of
water; led the horses up to form a shade against the bright noon sun,
and bade me sit quiet while he went back to see what the eagle had
swooped down upon.

"A young coyote, just a pup," he announced upon his return. "I'm glad I
got that fellah. They are an awful pest." It was a big bird with an
eight-foot stretch from wing tip to tip as measured by this plainsman's
rule--his hands. "They carry away lambs and attack new-born calves," he
said. "They attack people sometimes, but that is rare."

He helped me on my horse. "All my fault. Couldn't see you from down in
the coulee when I fired at that bird. You musta just tipped the ridge
from the other side." He reached over, untied the mail bag and tied it
to his saddle.

"You were going the other way, weren't you?" I protested.

"No hurry. I'll go back with you first."

"You don't know where I live, do you?"

"Yes, I know," he said laconically. He was a young man--I took him to be
under thirty--with a sort of agile strength in every movement. Lean,
virile, his skin sunburnt and firm. He wore a flannel shirt open at the
throat, buckskin chaps, a plainsman's boots, and his sombrero was worn
at an angle. He made no attempt to be picturesque as did many of the
range riders.

As the horses started off at an easy gallop he checked them. "Better go
slow after that shake-up," he said quietly.

"I must hurry," I answered. "I'm late with the mail."

"These homesteaders are always in a rush. Shore amusin'. Act like the
flood would be here tomorrow and no ark built." He spoke in a soft,
southern drawl.

"They have to do more than build an ark," I told him. "They have to make
time count. The country is too new to accomplish anything easily."

"Too old, you mean. These plains have been hyar too long for a little
herd of humans to make 'em over in a day."

"We have fourteen months to do it in," I reminded him, referring to the
revised proving-up period.

"You'll be migh