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inherited an exquisite nose and had absolute confidence in its admonitions。
Mankind has difficulty in recognizing the power of nostrils。 A Gray…wolf
can glance over the morning wind as a man does over his newspaper； and
get all the latest news。 He can swing over the ground and have the
minutest information of every living creature that has walked there within
many hours。 His nose even tells which way it ran； and in a word renders a
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statement of every animal that recently crossed his trail； whence it came；
and whither it went。
That power had Duskymane in the highest degree； his broad； moist
nose was evidence of it to all who are judges of such things。 Added to this；
his frame was of unusual power and endurance； and last； he had early
learned a deep distrust of everything strange； and； call it what we will；
shyness； wariness or suspicion； it was worth more to him than all his
cleverness。 It was this as much as his physical powers that made a success
of his life。 Might is right in wolf…land； and Duskymane and his mother
had been driven out of Sentinel Butte。 But it was a very delectable land
and he kept drifting back to his native mountain。 One or two big Wolves
there resented his coming。 They drove him off several times； yet each time
he returned he was better able to face them； and before he was eighteen
months old he had defeated all rivals and established himself again on his
native ground； where he lived like a robber baron； levying tribute on the
rich lands about him and finding safety in the rocky fastness。
Wolver Ryder often hunted in that country； and before long； he came
across a five…and…one…half…inch track； the foot…print of a giant Wolf。
Roughly reckoned； twenty to twenty…five pounds of weight or six inches
of stature is a fair allowance for each inch of a Wolf's foot； this Wolf
therefore stood thirty…three inches at the shoulder and weighed about one
hundred and forty pounds； by far the largest Wolf he had ever met。 King
had lived in Goat country； and now in Goat language he exclaimed： 〃You
bet； ain't that an old Billy？〃 Thus by trivial chance it was that Duskymane
was known to his foe； as 'Badlands Billy。'
Ryder was familiar with the muster…call of the Wolves； the long；
smooth cry； but Billy's had a singular feature； a slurring that was always
distinctive。 Ryder had heard this before； in the Cottonwood Ca 駉 n； and
when at length he got a sight of the big Wolf with the black mane； it struck
him that this was also the Cub of the old Yellow fury that he had trapped。
These were among the things he told me as we sat by the fire at night。
I knew of the early days when any one could trap or poison Wolves； of the
passing of those days； with the passing of the simple Wolves； of the new
race of Wolves with new cunning that were defying the methods of the
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ranchmen； and increasing steadily in numbers。 Now the wolver told me of
the various ventures that Penroof had made with different kinds of Hounds；
of Foxhounds too thin…skinned to fight； of Greyhounds that were useless
when the animal was out of sight； of Danes too heavy for the rough
country； and； last； of the composite pack with some of all kinds； including
at times a Bull…terrier to lead them in the final fight。
He told of hunts after Coyotes； which usually were successful because
the Coyotes sought the plains； and were easily caught by the Greyhounds。
He told of killing some small Gray…wolves with this very pack； usually at
the cost of the one that led them； but above all he dwelt on the wonderful
prowess of 〃that thar cussed old Black Wolf of Sentinel Butte；〃 and related
the many attempts to run him down or corner himan unbroken array of
failures。 For the big Wolf； with exasperating persistence； continued to live
on the finest stock of the Penroof brand； and each year was teaching more
Wolves how to do the same with perfect impunity。
I listened even as gold…hunters listen to stories of treasure trove； for
these were the things of my world。 These things indeed were uppermost in
all our minds； for the Penroof pack was lying around our camp…fire now。
We were out after Badlands Billy。
VIII
THE VOICE IN THE NIGHT AND THE BIG TRACK IN THE
MORNING
One night late in September after the last streak of light was gone from
the west and the Coyotes had begun their yapping chorus； a deep； booming
sound was heard。 King took out his pipe； turned his head and said： 〃That's
himthat's old Billy。 He's been watching us all day from some high place；
and now when the guns are useless he's here to have a little fun with us。〃
Two or three Dogs arose； with bristling manes； for they clearly
recognized that this was no Coyote。 They rushed out into the night； but did
not go far； their brawling sounds were suddenly varied by loud yelps； and
they came running back to the shelter of the fire。 One was so badly cut in
the shoulder that he was useless for the rest of the hunt。 Another was hurt
in the flankit seemed the less serious wound； and yet next morning the
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hunters buried that second Dog。
The men were furious。 They vowed speedy vengeance； and at dawn
were off on the trail。 The Coyotes yelped their dawning song； but they
melted into the hills when the light was strong。 The hunters searched about
for the big Wolf's track； hoping that the Hounds would be able to take it up
and find him； but they either could not or would not。
They found a Coyote； however； and within a few hundred yards they
killed him。 It was a victory； I suppose； for Coyotes kill Calves and Sheep；
but somehow I felt the common thought of all： 〃Mighty brave Dogs for a
little Coyote； but they could not face the big Wolf last night。〃
Young Penroof； as though in answer to one of the unput questions；
said：
〃Say； boys； I believe old Billy had a hull bunch of Wolves with him
last night。〃
〃Didn't see but one track；〃 said King gruffly。
In this way the whole of October slipped by； all day hard riding after
doubtful trails； following the Dogs； who either could not keep the big trail
or feared to