o send the dog home,
but I finally concluded to allow him to remain, to see what would come
of his presence, for it was apparent that Scotch had gone for him. He
appropriated Scotch's bed in the tub, to the evident satisfaction of
Scotch. During the morning the two played together in the happiest
possible manner for more than an hour. At noon I fed them together.

In the afternoon, while I was writing, I heard the varied voices of
the coyote pack, and went out with my glass to watch proceedings,
wondering how the visiting collie would play his part. There went
Scotch, as I supposed, racing for the yelping pack, but the visiting
collie was not to be seen. The pack beat the usual sullen, scattering
retreat, and while the dog, which I supposed to be Scotch, was chasing
the last slow tormenter into the woods, from behind the crag came the
big limping coyote, hurrying toward the willow clump from behind which
he was accustomed to yelp triumphantly in Scotch's rear. I raised the
glass for a better look, all the time wondering where the visiting
collie was keeping himself. I was unable to see him, yet I recollected
he was with Scotch less than an hour before.

The lame coyote came round the willow clump as usual, and threw up his
head as though to bay at the moon. Then the unexpected happened. On
the instant, Scotch leaped into the air out of the willow clump, and
came down upon the coyote's back! They rolled about for some time,
when the coyote finally shook himself free and started at a lively
limping pace for the woods, only to be grabbed again by the visiting
collie, which had been chasing the pack, and which I had mistaken for
Scotch. The pack beat a swift retreat. For a time both dogs fought
the coyote fiercely, but he at last tore himself free, and escaped
into the pines, badly wounded and bleeding. I never saw him again.
That night the visiting collie went home. As Scotch was missing that
night for a time, I think he may have accompanied him at least a part
of the way.

One day a young lady from Michigan came along and wanted to climb
Long's Peak all alone, without a guide. I agreed to consent to this
if first she would climb one of the lesser peaks unaided, on a stormy
day. This the young lady did, and by so doing convinced me that she
had a keen sense of direction and an abundance of strength, for the
day on which she climbed was a stormy one, and the peak was completely
befogged with clouds. After this, there was