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traveller dying of thirst； that sees the palm…trees far ahead；
his brilliant eyes took in the distant smoke of Manhattan。
Out from the crest of the Catskills there launched a Falcon。
Swiftest of the race of rapine； proud of his strength； proud of
his wings； he rejoiced in a worthy prey。 Many and many a Pigeon
had been borne to his nest； and riding the wind he came；
swooping； reserving his strength； awaiting the proper time。 Oh；
how well he knew the very moment！ Down； down like a flashing
javelin； no wild Duck； no Hawk could elude him； for this was a
Falcon。 Turn back now； O Homer； and save yourself； go round the
dangerous hills。 Did he turn？ Not a whit！ for this was Arnaux。
Home！ home！ home！ was his only thought。 To meet the danger； he
merely added to his speed； and the Peregrine stooped； stooped at
what？a flashing of color； a twinkling of whitenessand went
back empty。 While Arnaux cleft the air of the valley as a stone
from a sling； to be losta white…winged birda spot with
flashing haloand； quickly； a speck in the offing。 On down the
dear valley of Hudson； the well…known highway； for two years he
had not seen it！ Now he dropped low as the noon breeze came north
and ruffled the river below him。 Home！ home！ home！ and the towers
of a city are coming in view！ Home！ home！ past the great
spider…bridge of Poughkeepsie； skimming； skirting the
river…banks。 Low now by the bank as the wind arose。 Low； alas！
too low！
What fiend was it tempted a gunner in June to lurk on that hill
by the margin？ what devil directed his gaze to the twinkling of
white that came from the blue to the northward？ Oh； Arnaux；
Arnaux； skimming low； forget not the gunner of old！ Too low； too
low you are clearing that hill。 Too lowtoo late！ Flashbang！
and the death…hail has reached him； reached； maimed； but not
downed him。 Out of the flashing pinions broken feathers printed
with records went fluttering earthward。 The 〃naught〃 of his sea
record was gone。 Not two hundred and ten； but twenty…one miles it
now read。 Oh； shameful pillage！ A dark stain appeared on his
bosom； but Arnaux kept on。 Home； home； homeward bound。 The danger
was past in an instant。 Home； homeward he steered straight as
before； but the wonderful speed was diminished； not a mile a
minute now； and the wind made undue sounds in his tattered
pinions。 The stain in his breast told of broken force； but on；
straight on； he flew。 Home； home was in sight； and the pain in
his breast was forgotten。 The tall towers of the city were in
clear view of his far…seeing eye as he skimmed by the high cliffs
of Jersey。 On； onthe pinion might flag； the eye might darken；
but the home…love was stronger and stronger。
Under the tall Palisades； to be screened from the wind； he
passed； over the sparkling water； over the trees； under the
Peregrines' eyrie； under the pirates' castle where the great grim
Peregrines sat； peering like black…masked highwaymen they marked
the on…coming Pigeon。 Arnaux knew them of old。 Many a message was
lying undelivered in that nest； many a record…bearing plume had
fluttered away from its fastness。 But Arnaux had faced them
before； and now he came as beforeon； onward； swift； but not as
he had been； the deadly gun had sapped his force； had lowered his
speed。 On； on； and the Peregrines； biding their time； went forth
like two bow…bolts； strong and lightning…swift they went against
one weak and wearied。
Why tell of the race that followed？ Why paint the despair of a
brave little heart in sight of the home he had craved in vain？ in
a minute all was over。 The Peregrines screeched in their triumph。
Screeching and sailing； they swung to their eyrie； and the prey
in their claws was the body； the last of the bright little
Arnaux。 There on the rocks the beaks and claws of the bandits
were red with the life of the hero。 Torn asunder were those
matchless wings； and their records were scattered unnoticed。 In
sun and in storm they lay till the killers themselves were killed
and their stronghold rifled。 And none knew the fate of the
peerless Bird till deep in the dust and rubbish of that
pirate…nest the avenger found； among others of its kind； a silver
ring； the sacred badge of the High Homer； and read upon it the
pregnant inscription： 〃ARNAUX； 2590 C。〃
BADLANDS BILLY
The Wolf that Won
I
THE HOWL BY NIGHT
Do you know the three calls of the hunting Wolf：the long…drawn
deep howl； the muster； that tells of game discovered but too
strong for the finder to manage alone； and the higher ululation
that ringing and swelling is the cry of the pack on a hot scent；
and the sharp bark coupled with a short howl that； seeming least
of all； is yet a gong of doom； for this is the cry 〃Close
in〃this is the finish？
We were riding the Badland Buttes； King and I； with a pack of
various hunting Dogs stringing behind or trotting alongside。 The
sun had gone from the sky； and a blood…streak marked the spot
where he died； away over Sentinel Butte。 The hills were dim； the
valleys dark； when from the nearest gloom there rolled a
long…drawn cry that all men recognize instinctivelymelodious；
yet with a tone in it that sends a shudder up the spine； though
now it has lost all menace for mankind。 We listened for a moment。
It was the Wolf…hunter who broke silence： 〃That's Badlands Billy；
ain't it a voice？ He's out for his beef to…night。〃
II
ANCIENT DAYS
In pristine days the Buffalo herds were followed by bands of
Wolves that preyed on the sick； the weak； and the wounded。 When
the Buffalo were exterminated the Wolves were hard put for
support； but the Cattle came and solved the question for them by
taking the Buffaloes' place。 This caused the wolf…war。 The
ranchmen offered a bounty for each Wolf killed； and every cowboy
out of work； was supplied with traps and poison for wolf…killing。
The very expert made this their sole business and became known as
wolvers。 King Ryder was one of these。 He was a quiet；
gentlespoken fellow； with a keen eye and an insight into animal
life that gave him especial power over Broncos and Dogs； as well
as Wolves and Bears； though in the last two cases it was power
merely to surmise where they were and how best to get at them。 He
had been a wolver for years； and greatly surprised me by saying
that 〃never in all his experience had he known a Gray…wolf to
attack a human being。〃
We had many camp…fire talks while the other men were sleeping；
and then it was I learned the little that he knew about Badlands
Billy。 〃Six times have I seen him and the seventh will be Sunday；
you bet。 He takes his long rest then。〃 And thus on the very
ground where it all fell out； to the noise of the night wind and
the yapping of the Coyote； interrupted sometimes by the
deep…drawn howl of the hero
himself； I heard chapters of this history which； with others
gleaned in many fields； gave me the story of the Big Dark Wolf of
Sentinel Butte。
III
IN THE CANON
Away back in the spring of '92 a wolver was 〃wolving〃 on the east
side of the Sentinel Mountain that so long was a principal
landmark of the old Plainsmen。 Pelts were not good in May； but
the bounties were high； five dollars a head； and double