standing our reiterated urging, were
no more disposed to pursue him than before. If the assailant had been
a dog they would have rushed upon him, but they stayed cowering at the
gate and howled distressfully. The bitch was most affected, and they
all seemed paralyzed by fear. It is said in the country that bitches
are especially liable to be attacked by wolves. It was so here. The
most certain feature in the matter was the terror of the animals. They
were capable of resisting the attack three times over. The young dog
was a savage one, and passers-by were afraid of the bitch; but that
night they were terrorized, and all incapable of defending themselves.
Their cries were therefore due to the same cause as in the preceding
night--the presence and attacks of the wolf. I could not have realized
their meaning if I had not been a witness of the scene--that is, I
could not have correlated the cries and the acts.

A shot at the animal behind the bushes was followed by a hoarse cry.
He was hit, and ran; but, in spite of our urgings, the dogs stayed at
the gate and only stopped howling. Under any other conditions, upon
the signal of the shot they would all have started in pursuit of the
wounded animal.

A wolf came to the farm during the last winter (1890-91) and attacked
the same bitch. He would have carried her off, for he had seized her
by the throat, if we could judge from the stifled cries she uttered;
but this time he found with her a new watch dog--a mountain bitch from
the Pyrenees--of a breed that attacks the wolf and the bear. The wolf
would have been caught if he had not run away. He did not return, for
he had been attacked, and learned what he had to deal with.

The Pyrenean breed furnishes excellent watch dogs. I knew one of
remarkable traits. At evening he would go round the house, giving two
or three growls at each door. With his head raised he seemed to listen
to his fine voice, then he would start again and go to another door.
He seemed desirous to show those who were observing him that he was
attending to his post as guardian. He then went away in silence along
the walk, through a dark, rising hedgerow, leaping the slight hillock,
yelping toward the wood. He listened, yelped again, and went in. There
was never any failure in this performance, but every evening as night
was coming on he began his round, which no one had taught him. It was
all done in his function as a guard. It would be hard to determine
what