IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) 4^ m. /A// •4i 1.0 I.I 1.25 |50 ^^^ Ij^ „„<^ 6" 2.5 2.0 18 U III 1.6 V] vQ c^ /a ^a » ^\:> .%:^4 ^.-^ ^v^ c/^ Photographic Sciences Corporation 33 WIST MAIN STRUT W»STIR,N.Y. 14SI0 (716) 872-4S03 4? iV V [v ^ 6^ ^>' ^ / (5 ^ CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHIVi/ICMH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiquet Technical and Bibliographic Notes/Notes techniques et bibliographiques The Institute has attempted to obtain the best original copy available for filming. Features of this copy which may be bibliographically unique, which may alter any of the images in the reproduction, or which may significantly change the usual method of filming, are checked below. □ Coloured covers/ Couverture de couleur □ Covers damaged/ Couverture endommag^c □ Covers restored and/or laminated/ Couverture restaur^e et/ou pellicul^e □ Cove Le tit D D D D Q titre de couverture manque Cover title missing/ Le titre de couve Coloured maps/ I I Cartes g^ographiques en couleur IV ' Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleue ou noire) Coloured ink (i.e. other than blue or black)/ Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleufl Coloured plates and/or illustrations/ Planches et/ou illustrations en couleur Bound with other material/ Reli4 avac d'autres documents Tight binding may cause shadows or distortion along interior margin/ La re liure serrie peut causer de I'ombre ou de la distorsion le \ony da la marge intiriaure Blank leaves added during restoration may appear within the text. Whenever possible, these have been omitted from filming/ il se peut que certaines pages blanches ajouties lors d'une restauration apparaissant dans le text*, mais, lorsque cela 4tait possible, ces pages n'ont pas itA filmies. Additional comments:/ Commentaires supplimentaires; Various psgingi. L'Institut a microfilm^ le meilleur axemplaire qu'il lui a iti possible de se procurer. Les details de est exemplaire qui sont peut-dtre uniques du point de vue btbliographique, qui peuvent modifier une image reproduite. ou qui peuvent ex( meaning "CON- TINUED"), or the symbol V (meaning "END"), whichever applies. Un des symboles suivants apparaftra sur la derniire image de cheque microfiche, seion le cas: le symbole — ► signifie "A SUiVRE", le symbole V signifie "FIN". Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at different reduction ratios. Those too large to be entirely included in one exposure are filmed beginning in the uppor left hand corner, left to right and top to bottom, as many frames as required. The following diagrams illustrate the method: Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent Atre filmAs ii des taux de reduction diffirents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour Atre reprudult en un seul clichA, 11 est filmt A partir de I'angle supirieur gauche, de gauche A droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images n6cessaire. Les diagrammes suivants lliustrent la m6thode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 S 6 Vv Beir r Wi I d • AnimivlsKmKnowN •&nd£00'Dr&wingS' by ETnest^Setonirhompson NATO(V»' !ST-T»THIG"VtRN MENT*. s ii-*6 xu 1 fin ■ ff'- i [i'r ' 1 11 '' s f II ' . _J f 'i f A List of the Stories in this Book And their FuU-pagc Drawings Page Ldbe, the King of Cumimpaw .... 15 Lobo showing the pack how to kill beef 23 Tannerey, with his dogs, came gallop- ing up the cafion 27 I.obo exposing the traps 3^ Lobo and Blanca 4* Lobo Rex Currumpae 55 Silverspot, the Story of a Crow ... 57 Silverspot 61 The handle of a china-cup, the gem of the coUeccion 73 Roost in a row, like big folks . . .78 The track of the murderer .... 85 The death of Silverspot 89 I i' 1 'I A List of the Stories in this Book Pag* R^Wylug, the Story of a Cottontail Rabbit gj ** Mammy, mammy! " he screamed, in mortal terror «» Rag followed the snow-white beacon . ii8 The hound came sniffing along the log 126 No chance to turn now . . , . . . i^q Bingo, the Story of jNIy Dog ... 145 Frank retreated each time the wolf turned 149 Bingo and the she- wolf 167 Bingo watched while Curley feasted . 172 Tail-piece 13- Ch« Springfield fox .185 They tussled and fought, while their mother looked on with fond de- light ip6 Vix shows the cubs how to catch mice 202 There she had lain, and mourned . . 218 Vix *** 225 6 i my R« Tl m ^ ^m > » »■ MWMf?Our!.'-»^ff ^>w 4';-".-.r: T 1 A List of the Stories in this Book Page Che pacing Mustang 227 Away went the mustang at his famous pace 261 mUAXy, the Story of a Taller Dog . . 273 The three maroons 277 Once more a sheep-dog in charge of a flock 287 WuUy studied her calm face . . . 299 Redniff, the Story of the Don TalUy partridge 305 In the moonlight 321 Redruff saving Runtie 34P The owl • • 356 The thought. (Tail-piece) . . • • 359 I £iI#*f:in(«'H*^4irPTT,»- ■—wi ii> i»i »i i n i,.i mi, , ., Note to the Reader THESE STORIES are true. Although I have left the strict line of historical truth in many places, the animals in this book vere all real characters. They lived the lives I have depicted, and showed the stamp of heroism and personality more strongly by far than it has been in the power of my pen to tell. I believe that natural history has last much by the vague general treatment that is so com- mon. What satisfaction would be derived from a ten-page sketch of the habits and customs of Man ? How much more profitable it would be to devote that space to the life of some one great man. This is the principle I have en- deavored to apply to my animals, The real personality of the individual, and his view of life are my theme, rather than the ways of the J V Hi Note to tixe Reader race in general, as viewed by a casual and hos- tile human eye. This may sound inconsistent in view of my having pieced together some of the characters, but that was made necessary by the fragmentary nature of the records. There is, however, al- most no deviation from the truth in Lobo, Bin- go, and the Mustang. Lobo lived his wild romantic life from 1889 to 1894 in the Currumpaw region, as the ranch- men know too well, and died, precisely as re- lated, on January 31, 1894. Bingo was my dog from 1882 to 1888, in spite of interruptions, caused by lengthy visits to New York, as my Manitoban friends will re- member. And my old friend, the owner of Tan, will learn from these pages how his dog really died. The Mustang lived not far from Lobo in the early nineties. The story is given strictly as it occurred, excepting that there is a dispute as to the manner of his death. According to some testimony he broke his neck in the corral that io Note to tlie Reader he was first taken to. Old Turkeytrack is where he cannot be consulted to settle it. WuUy is, in a sense, a compound of two dogs ; both were mongrels, of some collie blood, and were raised as sheep-dogs. The first part of Wully is given as it happened, after that it was known only that he became a savage, treacher- ous sheep-killer. The details of the second part belong really to another, a similar yaller dog, who long lived the double life— a faithful sheep- dog b^ day, and a bloodthirsty, treacherous monster by night. Such things are less rare tiian is supposed, and smce writing these stories I have heard of another double-lived sheep-dog that added to its night amusements the crown- ing barbarity of murdering the smaller dogs of the neighborhood. He had killed twenty, and hidden them in a sand-pit, when discovered by his master. He died just as Wully did. .All told, I now have information of six of these Jekyl-Hyde dogs. In each case it hap- pened to be a collie. Redruff really lived in the Don Valley north n fi Note to the Reader of Toronto, and many of my companions will remember him. He was killed in 1889, be- tween the Sugar Loaf and Castle Frank, by a creature whose name I have withheld, as it is the species, rather than the individual, that I wish to expose. Silverspot, Raggylug, and Vixen are founded on real characters. Though I have ascribed to them the adventures of more than one of their kind, every incident in their biographies is from life. The fact that these stories are true is the rea- son why all are tragic. The life of a wild ani- mal always has a tragic end. Such a collection of histories naturally sug- gests a common thought— a moral it would have been called in the last century. No doubt each different mind will find a moral to its taste, but I hope some will herein find emphasized a moral as old as Scripture— we and the beasts are kin. Man has nothing that the animals have not at least a vestige of, the animals have nothing that man does not in some degree share. IS Note to the Reacler Since, then, the animals are creatures with wants and feelings differing in degree only from our own, they surely have their rights. This fact, now beginning to be recognized by the Caucasian world, was first proclaimed by Moses and was emphasized by the Buddhist over 2,000 years ago. THIS BOOK was made by my wife, Grace Gallatin Seton - Thompson. Although the handiwork throughout is my own, she chiefly is responsible for designs of cover, title page, and general make-up. Thanks are due her also for the literary revision, and for the mechanical labor of seeing the book through the press. i BrtKQt Bcton-Cbonipeon. « 144 Fifth Ave., New York City, December 31, 1899. IS \'f, it A/t/t^ Lobo The King of Currumpaw fi Id \M hii pa ru V J Lobo The King of Currumpaw f. •1 >; s;C (URRUMPAW is a vast cattle range in northern New Mexico. It is a land of rich pastures and teeming flocks and herds, a land of rolling mesas and precious running waters that at length unite in the Currumpaw River, from which the whole region is named. And the king whose despotic power was felt over its entire extent was an old gray wolf. Old Lobo, or the king, as the Mexicans called him, was the gigantic leader of a remarkable pack of gray wolves, that had ravaged the Cur- rumpaw Valley for a number of years. All the shepherds and ranchmen knew him well, and, 17 Lof)o wherever he appeared with his trusty band, ter- ror reigned supreme among the cattle, and wrath and despair among their owners. Old Lobo was a giant among wolves, and was cunning and strong in proportion to his size. His voice at night was well-known and easily distinguished from that of any of his fellows. An ordi- nary wolf might howl half the night about the herdsman's bivouac without attracting more than a passing notice, but when the deep roar of the old king came booming down the cafion, the watcher bestirred himself and prepared to learn in the morning that fresh and serious in- roads had been made among the herds. Old Lobo's liand was but a small one. This I never quite understood, for usually, when a wolf rises to the position and power that he had, he attracts a numerous following. It may be that he had as many as he desired, or perhaps his ferocious temper prevented the increase of his pack. Certain is it that Lobo had only five followers during the latter part of his reign. Each of these, however, was a wolf of renown, most of them were above the ordinary size, one in particular, the second in command, was a 18 Lobo veritable giant, but even he was far below the leader in size and prowess. Several of the band, besides the two leaders, were especially noted. One of those was a beautiful white wolf, that the Mexicans called Blanca ; this was supposed to be a female, possibly Lobo's mate. Another was a yellow wolf of remarkable swiftness, which, according to current stories had, on several oc- casions, captured an antelope for the pack. It will be seen, then, that these wolves were thoroughly well-known to the cowboys and shepherds. They were frequently seen and oftener heard, and their lives were intimately associated with' those of the cattlemen, who would so gladly have destroyed them. There was not a stockman on the Currumpaw who would not readily have given the value of many steers for the scalp of any one of Lobo's band, but they seemed to possess charmed lives, and defied all manner of devices to kill them. They scorned all hunters, derided all poisons, and continued, for at least five years, to exact their tribute from the Currumpaw ranchers to the extent, many said, of a cow each day. Ac cording to this estimate, therefore, the band had «9 I ' Lo(x> killed more than two thousand of the finest stock, for, as was only too well-known, they selected the best in every instance. The old idea that a wolf was constantly in a starving state, and therefore ready to eat any- thing, was as far as possible from the truth in this case, for these freebooters were always sleek and well-conditioned, and were in fact most fastidious about what they ate. Any ani- mal that had died from natural causes, or that was diseased or tainted, they would not touch, and they even rejected anything that had been killed by the stockmen. Their choice ana daily food was the tenderer part of a freshly killed yearling heifer. An old bull or cow they disdained, and though they occasionally took a young calf or colt, it was quite clear that veal or horseflesh was not their favorite diet. It was also known that they were not fond of mutton, although they often amused themselves by killing sheep. One night in November, 1893, Blanca and the yellow wolf killed two hundred and fifty sheep, apparently for the fun of it, and did not eat an ounce of their flesh. 20 Lobo These are examples of many stories which I might repeat, to show the ravages .of this destructive band. Many new devices for their extinction were tried each year, but still they lived and throve in spite of all the efforts of their foes. A great price was set on Lobo's head, and in consequence poison in a score of subtle forms was put out for him, but he never failed to detect and avoid it.. One thing only he feared— that was firearms, and knowing full well that all men in this region carried them, he never was known to attack or face a human being. Indeed, the set policy of his band was to take refuge in flight whenever, in the day- time, a man was descried, no matter at what distance. Lobo's habit of permitting the pack to eat only that which they themselves had killed, was in numerous cases their salvation, and the keenness of his scent to detect the taint of human hands or the poison itself, completed their immunity. On one occasion, one of the cowboys heard the too familiar rallying-cry of Old Lobo, and stealthily approaching, he found the Currum- paw pack in a hollow, where they had « round- 21 !#' r V ^obo ed up ' a small herd of cattle. Lobo sat apart on a knoll, while Blanca with the rest was en- deavoring to * cut out ' a young cow, which they had selected ; but the cattle were standing in a compact mass with their heads outward, and presented to the foe a line of horns, un- broken save when some cow, frightened by a fresh onset of the wolves, tried to retreat into the middle of the herd. It was only by taking advantage of these breaks that the wolves had succeeded at all in wounding the selected cow, but she was far from being disabled, and it seemed that Lobo at length lost patience with his followers, for he left his position on the hill, and, uttering a deep roar, dashed toward the herd. The terrified rank broke at his charge, and he sprang in among them. Then the cattle scattered like the pieces of a bursting bomb. Away went the chosen victim, but ere she had gone twenty- five yards Lobo was upon her. Seizing her by the neck he suddenly held back with all his force and so threw her heavily to the ground. The shock must have been tremendous, for the heifer was thrown heels over head. Lobo also turned a somersault, but immediately recovered 9a i III "8 M O I .13 M I «i JS ■*■' bfi C o JS I \li 'I /) f' '1 1 ■ ft hin co\ no r ic nol oul as str thi wc an; m thj th( th( an pr $1 m; les T( ga hs Lobo himself, and his followers falling on the poor cow, killed her in a few seconds. Lobo took no part in the killing — after having thrown the victim, he seemed to say, '* Now, why could not some of you have done that at once with- out wasting so much time?" The man now rode up shouting, the wolves as usual retired, and he, having a bottle of strychnine, quickly poisoned the carcass in three places, then went away, knowing they would return to feed, as they had killed the animal themselves. But next morning, on go- ing to look for his expected victims, he found that, although the wolves had eaten the heifer, they had carefully cut out and thrown aside all those parts that had been poisoned. The dread of this great wolf spread yearly among the ranchmen, and each year a larger price was set on his head, until at last it reached $i,ooo, an unparalleled wolf-bounty, surely; many a good man has been hunted down for less. Tempted by the promised reward, a Texan ranger named Tannerey came one day galloping up the cafion of the Currumpaw. He had a superb outfit for wolf-hunting— the best •5 ■ V ♦", f (, \j t. 1i ■; ■i: i / LoBo of guns and horses, and a Dark «f wolf-hounds. Far out on Thf ? ™°"' P;jn ha«^I u ^'^^ P^a"lS Of the ftolf 'h' ' ";;'' "^ ""S^ "^-^ wiled many a few days 0^1.""" '°'""^'' '"''' -'"■„' S del rJ ""' "">"""«' ""d ^O"" the Within .„o .iles, .„e X^y^'dZ' last and furious. The nart nf ti,^ ir , was n.e.ly.0 hold .He^ir^^CXt hunter could ride up and shoot them Z I -ually was easy „„ ,he open plainsont*'' Play, and showed how well Lobo had chosen h.s range ; for the rocky cafions of the Currl paw and its tributaries inte,.ect the pra"r Tn every d.rec,ion. The old wolf at one ™ e mridorr?' "■"'""" "y "-ta/i tZdtlu' , °"""'"- "'^ •^■'d then scat- ■ney reunited at a distant point of courae all of 96 mrnt k Tannerey, with his dogs, came gallopinif up the caflon. 1 i j / '. i the dogs did not turn up, and the wolves no longer outnumbered, turned on their pursuers and killed or desperately wounded them all. That night when Tannerey mustered his dogs, only f.:x of them returned, and of these, two were terribly lacerated. This hunter made two other attempts to capture the royal scalp, but neither of them was more successful than the first, and on the last occasion his best horse met its death by a fall ; so he gave up the chase in disgust and went back to Texas, leaving Lobo more than ever the despot of the region. Next year, two other hunters appeared, de- termined to win the promised bounty. Each believed he could destroy this noted wolf, the first by means of a newly devised poison, which was to be laid out in an entirely new manner ; the other a French Canadian, by poison as- sisted with certain spells and charms, for he firmly believed that Lobo was a veritable *loup-garou,' and could not be killed by or- dinary means. But cunningly compounded poisons, charms, and incantations were all of no avail against this grizzly devastator. He 89 1 ) im Lobo made his weekly rounds and daily banquets as aforetime, and before many weeks had passed Calone and Laloche gave up in despair and went elsewhere to hunt. In the spring of 1893, after his unsuccessful attempt to capture Lobo, Joe Calone had a humihatmg experience, which seems to show that the big wolf simply scorned his enemies and had absolute confidence in himself. Ca- lone's farm was on a small tributary of the Currumpaw, in a picturesque cafion, and among the rocks of this very cafion, within a thousand yards of the house, old Lobo and his mate se- lected their den and raised their family that season. There they lived all summer, and killed Joe's cattle, sheep, and dogs, but laughed at all his poisons and traps, and rested securely among the recesses of the cavernous cliffs, while Joe vainly racked his brain for some method of smoking them out, or of reaching them with dynamite. But they escaped entirely unscathed, and continued their ravages as before. *« There's where he lived all last summer," said Joe pomting to the face of the cliff, -and I couldn't do a thing with him. I was like a fool to him." Lof» ■■\ tt II This history, gathered so far from the cow- boys, I found hard to believe until in the fall of 1893, I made the acquaintance of the wily marauder, and at length came to know him more thoroughly than anyone else. Some years before, in the Bingo days, I had been a wolf-hunter, but my occupations since then had been of another sort, chaining me to stool and desk. I was much in need of a change, and when a friend, who was also a ranch-owner on the Currumpaw, asked me to come to New Mexico and try if I could do anything with this predatory pack, I accepted the invitation and, eager to make the acquaintance of its king, was as soon as possible among the mesas of that region. I spent some time riding about to learn the country, and at intervals, my guide would point to the skeleton of a cow to which the hide still adhered, and remark, "That's some of his work." It became quite clear to me that, in this rough country, it was useless to think of pur- 3» ) f fv'ii ■^ { r Lobo suing Lobo with hounds and horses, so that poison or traps were the only available expe- dients. At present we had no traps large enough, so I set to work with poison. I need not enter into the details of a hun- dred devices that I employed to circumvent this * loup-garou ' ; there was no combination of strychnine, arsenic, cyanide, or prussic acid, that I did not essay ; there was no manner of flesh that I did not try as bait ; but morning after morning, as I rode forth to learn the result, I found that all my efforts had been useless. The old king was too cunning for me. A single instance will show his wonderful sagacity. Acting on the hint of an old trapper, I melted some cheese together with the kidney fat of a freshly killed heifer, stewing it in a china dish, and cutting it with a bone knife to avoid the taint of metal. When the mixture was cool, I cut it into lumps, and making a hole in one side of each lump, I inserted a large dose of strychnine and cyanide, contained in a capsule that was impermeable by any odor ; finally I sealed the holes up with pieces of the cheese itself. During the whole process, I wore a 32 '1 I Lobo V pair of gloves steeped in the hot blood of the heifer, and even avoided breathing on the baits. When all was ready, I put them in a raw-hide bag rubbed all over with blood, and rode forth dragging the liver and kidneys of the beef at the end of a rope. With this I made a ten-mile circuit, dropping a bait at each quarter of a mile, and taking the utmost care, always, not to touch any with my hands. Lobo, generally, came into this part of the range in the early part of each week, and passed the latter part, it was supposed, around the base of Sierra Grande. This was Monday, and that same evening, as we were about to retire, I heard the deep bass howl of his ma- jesty. On hearing it one of the boys briefly re- marked, ** There he is, we'll see." The next morning I went forth, eager to know the result. I soon came on the fresh trail of the robbers, with Lobo in the lead — his track was always easily distinguished. An or- dinary wolfs forefoot is 4}4 inches long, that of a large wolf 4^ inches, but Lobo's, as measured a number of times, was $}4 inches from claw to heel ; I afterward found that his 33 IS \ I \^ MMH /I Lol)o Other proportions were commensurate, for he stood three feet high at the shoulder, and weighed 150 pounds. His trail, therefore, though obscured by those of his followers, was never difficult to trace. The pack had soon found the track of my drag, and as usual fol- lowed it. I could see that Lobo had come to the first bait, sniffed about it, and finally had picked it up. Then I could not conceal my delight. «* I've got him at last," I exclaimed; "I shall find him stark within a mile," and I galloped on with eager eyes fixed on the great broad track in the dust. It led me to the second bait and that also was gone. How I exulted— I surely have him now and perhaps several of his band. But there was the broad paw-mark still on the drag ; and though I stood in the stirrup and scanned the plain I saw nothing that looked like a dead wolf Again I followed— to find now that the third bait was gone—and the king-wolf's track led on to the fourth, there to learn that he had not really taken a bait at all, but had merely carried them in his mouth.' Then having piled the three on the fourth, he 34 ^; ' -r <^x # caa. <^- * f l» Cf '^ ')'n^ ii i LofK> Then followed the inevitable tragedy, the idea of which I shrank from afterward more than at the time. We each threw a lasso over the neck of the doomed wolf, and strained our horses in opposite directions until the blood burst from her mouth, her eyes glazed, her limbs stiffened and then fell limp. Homeward then we rode, carrying the dead wolf, and ex- ulting over this, the first death-blow we had been able to inflict on the Currumpaw pack. At intervals during the tragedy, and afterward as we rode homeward, we heard the roar of Lobo as he wandered about on the distant mesas, where' he seemed to be searching for Blanca. He had never really deserted her, but knowing that he could not save her, his deep- rooted dread of firearms had been too much for him when he saw us approaching. All that day we heard him wailing as he roamed in his quest, and I remarked at length to one of the boys, " Now, indeed, I truly know that Blanca was his mate. ' * As evening fell he seemed to be coming tow- ard the home cafion, for his voice sounded con- tinually nearer. There was an unmistakable 46 note of sorrow in it now. It was no longer the loud, defiant howl, but a long, plaintive wail ; " Blanca ! Blanca ! " he seemed to call. And as night came down, I noticed that he was not far from the place where we had overtaken her. At length he seemed to find the trail, and when he came to the spot where we had killed her, his heart-broken wailing was piteous to hear. It was sadder than I could possibly have be- lieved. Even the stolid cowboys noticed it, and said they had " never heard a wolf carry on like that before." He seemed to know ex- actly what had taken place, for her blood had stained the place of her death. Then he took up the trail of the horses and followed it to the ranch-house. Whether in hopes of finding her there, or in quest of re- venge, I know not, but the latter was what he found, for he surprised our unfortunate watch- dog outside and tore him to little bits within fifty yards of the door. He evidently came alone this time, for I found but one trail next morn- ing, and he had galloped about in a reckless manner that was very unusual with him. I had half expected this, and had set a number of ad- 47 ,©-^^ -it ffln'nWT r trviian R ) Lot>o ditional traps about the pasture. Afterward I found that he had indeed fallen into one of these, but such was his strength, he had torn himself loose and cast it aside. I believed that he would continue in the neighborhood until he found her body at least, so I concentrated all my energies on this one enterprise of catching him before he left the region, and while yet in this reckless mood. Then I realized what a mistake I had made in killing Blanca, for by using her as a decoy I might have secured him the next night. I gathered in all the traps I could command, one hundred and thirty strong steel wolf-traps, and set them in fours in every trail that led into the caiion ; each trap was separately fastened to a log, and each log was separately buried. In burying them, I carefully removed the sod and every particle of earth that was lifted we put in blankets, so that after the sod was replaced and all was finished the eye could detect no trace of human handiwork. When the traps were concealed I trailed the body of poor Blanca over each place, and made of it a drag that circled all about the ranch, and finally I took 48 Loto off one of her paws and made with it a line of tracks over each trap. Every precaution and device known to me I used, and retired at a late hour to await the result. Once during the night I thought I heard Old Lobo, but was not sure of it. Next day I rode around, but darkness came on before I completed the circuit of the north canon, and I had noth- ing to report. At supper one of the cowboys said, ** There was a great row among the cattle in the north cafion this morning, maybe there is something in the traps there." It was after- noon of the next day before I got to the place re- ferred to, and as I drew near a great grizzly form arose from the ground, vainly endeavoring to escape, and there revealed before me stood Lobo, King of the Currumpaw, firmly held in the traps. Poor old hero, he had never ceased to search for his darling, and when he found the trail her body had made he followed it reckless- ly, and so fell into the snare prepared for him. There he lay in the iron grasp of all four traps, perfectly helpless, and all around him were nu- merous tracks showing how the cattle had gath- ered about him to insult the fallen despot, without 49 1 kg 1)1 iflV"' I (J: Loiyo ill m v ( 1^ {■ daring to approach within his reach. For two days and two nights he had lain there, and now was worn out with struggling. Yet, when I went near him, he rose up with bristling mane and raised his voice, and for the last time made the canon reverberate with his deep bass roar, a call for help, the muster call of his band. But there was none to answer him, and, left alone in his extremity, he whirled about with all his strength and made a desperate effort to get at me. All in vain, each trap was a dead drag of over three hundred pounds, and in their relentless fourfold grasp, with gre^t steel jaws on every foot, and the heavy logs and chains all entangled together, he was absolutely powerless. How his huge ivory tusks did grind on those cruel chains, and when I ventured to touch him with my rifle- barrel he left grooves on it which are there to this day. His eyes glared green with hate and fury, and his jaws snapped with a hollow * chop,' as he vainly endeavored to reach me and my trembling horse. But he was worn out with hunger and struggling and loss of blood, and he soon sank exhausted to the ground. SO Loi)o '. i Something like compunction came over me, as I prepared to deal out to him that which so many had suffered at his hands. "Grand old outlaw, hero of a thousand law- less raids, in a few minutes you will be but a great load of carrion. It cannot be otherwise." Then I swung my lasso and sent it whistling over his head. But not so fast ; he was yet far from being subdued, and, before the supple coils had fallen on his neck he seized the noose and, with one fierce chop, cut through its hard thick strands, and dropped it in two pieces at his feet. Of course I had my rifle as a last resource, but I did not wish to spoil his royal hide, so I gal- loped back to the camp and returned with a cowboy and a fresh lasso. We threw to our victim a stick of wood which he seized in his teeth, and before he could relinquish it our lassoes whistled through the air and tightened on his neck. Yet before the light had died from his fierce eyes, I cried, *' Stay, we will not kill him ; let us take him alive to the camp." He was so completely powerless now that it was easy to 51 1 I t it! 1^1 r J \-Jl I I I* ■|^, lobo put a stout stick through his mouth, behind his tusks, and then lash his jaws with a heavy cord which was also fastened to the stick. The stick kept the cord in, and the cord kept the stick in so he was harmless. As soon as he felt his jaws were tied he made no further resistance, and uttered no sound, but looked calmly at us and seemed to say, " Well, you have got me at last, do as you please with me. ' ' And from that time he took no more notice of us. We tied his feet securely, but he never groaned, nor growled, nor turned his head. Then with our united strength were just able to put him on rty horse. His breath came evenly as though sleeping, and his eyes were bright and clear again, but did not rest on us. Afar on the great rolling mesas they were fixed, his passing kingdom, where his famous band was now scattered. And he gazed till the pony descended the pathway into the cafion, and the rocks cut ofiF the view. By travelling slowly we reached the ranch in safety, and after securing him with a collar and a strong chain, we staked him out in the past- ure and removed the cords. Then for the first SB 1/ Lobo time I could examine him closely, and proved how unreliable is vulgar report when a living hero or tyrant is concerned. He had not a collar of gold about his neck, nor was there on his shoulders an inverted cross to denote that he had leagued himself with Satan. But I did find on one haunch a great broad scar, that tradition says was the fang-mark of Juno, the leader of Tannerey's wolf-hounds — a mark which she gave him the moment before he stretched her lifeless on the sand of the cafion. I set meat and water beside him, but he paid no heed. He lay calmly on his breast, and gazed with those steadfast yellow eyes away past me down through the gateway of the cafion, over the open plains — his plains — nor moved a muscle when I touched him. When the sun went down he was still gazing fixedly across the prairie. I expected he would call up his band when night came, and prepared for them, but he had called once in his extremity, and none had come; he would never call again. A lion shorn of his strength, an eagle robbed of his freedom, or a dove bereft of his mate, all die, it is said, of a broken heart ; and who will SS ' r VT ^ i Lobo I ', ' I • aver that this grim bandit could bear the tnree- fold brunt, heart-whole? This only I know, that when the morning dawned, he was lying there still in his position of calm repose, his body unwounded, but his spirit was gone— the old King-wolf was dead. I took the chain from his neck, a cowboy helped me to carry him to the shed where lay the remains of Blanca, and as we laid him be- side her, the cattle-man exclaimed: "There, yon 7vould come to her, now you are together again." \:> S4 rh I' , I Silverspot The Story of a Grow /JJU m M m i : Hi' l( I /J i,l 'll ins usu On we nex aris his as V Silverspot The Story of a Crow I row many of us have ever got to know a wild animal? I do not mean merely to meet with one once or twice, or to have one in a cage, but to really know it for a long time while it is wild, and to get an insight into its life and history. The trouble usually is to know one creature from his fellow. One fox or crow is so much like another that we cannot be sure that it really is the same next time we meet. But once in awhile there arises an animal who is stronger or wiser than his fellow, who becomes a great leader, who is, as we would say, a genius, and if he is bigger, 59 %' r C'K 1,1 Silverspot i-.r H' or has some mark by which men can know him, he soon becomes famous in his country, and shows us that the life of a wild animal ma> be far more interesting and exciting than that of many human beings. Of this class were Courtrand, the bob-tailed wolf that terrorized the whole city of Paris for about ten years in the beginning of the four- teenth century ; Clubfoot, the lame grizzly bear that left such a terrific record in the San Joaquin Valley of California; Lobo, the king-wolf of New Mexico, that killed a cow every day for five years, and the Soehnee panther that in less than two years killed nearly three hundred hu- man beings — and such also was Silverspot, whose history, so far as I could learn it, I shall now briefly tell. Silverspot was simply a wise old crow; his name was given because of the silvery white spot that was like a nickel, stuck on his right side, between the eye and the bill, and it was owing to this spot that I was able to know him from the other crows, and put together the parts of his history that came to my knowledge. n\ ifif ■}!i ^il I,' ill IJ! Sflvetspot Crows are, as you must know, our most in- telligent birds—* Wise as an old crow ' did not become a saying without good reason. Crows know the value of organization, and are as well drilled as soldiers— very much better than some soldiers, in fact, for crows are al- ways on duty, always at war, and always de- pendent on each other for life and safety. Their leaders not only are the oldest and wisest of the band, but also the str(3ngest and bravest, for they must be ready at any time with sheer force to put down an upstart or a rebel. The rank and file are the youngsters and the crows without special gifts. Old Silverspot was the leader of a large band of crows that made their headquarters near Toronto, Canada, in Castle Frank, which is a pine-clad hill on the northeast edge of the city. This band numbered about two hundred, and for reasons that I never understood did not in- crease. In mild winters they stayed along the Niagara River ; in cold winters they went much farther south. But each year in the last week of February Old Silverspot would muster his followers and boldly cross the forty miles of 63 ;J m* rj H T^ I %i it ■rr;l I "'..Siaffiioii«,;.i-,.., ! f, ' ( ! I Nil Silverspot open water that lies between Toronto and Ni- agara ; not, however, in a straight line would he go, but always in a curve to the west, whereby he kept in sight of the familiar land- mark of Dundas Mountain, until the pine-clad hill itself came in view. Each year he came with his troop, and for about six weeks took up his abode on the hill. Each morning there- after the crows set out in three bands to forage. One band went southeast to Ashbridge's Bay. One went north up the Don, and one, the largest, went northwestward up the ravine. The last Silverspot led in person. Who led the otiiers I nev^r found out. On calm mornings they flew high and straight away. But when it was windy the band flew low, and followed the ravine for shelter. / My windows overlooked the ravine, and it was thus that in 1S85 I first noticed this old crow. I was a new-comer in the neighborhood, but an old resident said to me then ''that there old crow has been a-flying up and down this ravine for more than twenty years." My chances to watch were in the ravine, and Silverspot dog- gedly clinging to the old route, though now it 64 Silvetspot was edged with houses and spanned by bridges, became a very familiar acquaintance. Twice each day in March and part of April, then again in the late summer and the fall, he passed and repassed, and gave me chances to see his move- ments,- and hear his orders to his bands, and so, little by little, opened my eyes to the fact that the crows, though a little people, are of great wit, a race of birds with a language and a social system that is wonderfully human in many^of its chief points, and in some is better carrie'H out than our own. One windy day I stood on the high bridge across the ravine, as the old crow, heading his long, straggling troop, came flying down home- ward. Half a mile away I could hear the con- tented 'AWs well, come right along!' as we No. I. ^ 5^ Caw Caw should say, or as he put it, and as also his lieu- tenant echoed it at the rear of the band. They were flying very low to be out of the wind, and 65 m •'.* I u Silverspot would have to rise a little to clear the bridge on which I was. Silverspot saw me standing there, and as I was closely watching him he didn't like it. He checked his flight and called out, * Be on your guard,* or No. 2. ^ 1« Caw and rose much higher in the air. Then seeing that I was not armed he flew over my head about twenty feet, and his followers in turn did the same, dipping again to the old level when past the bridge. Next day I was at the same place, and as the crows came near I raised my walking stick and pointed it at them. The old fellow at once cried out 'Danger: and rose fifty feet higher No. 3. ^^ than before. Seeing that it was not a gun, he ventured to fly over. But on the third day I idge iing he lied mg ead did len as ick ice ler he SHverspot took with me a gun, and at once he cried out, • Grea^ danger— a gun.' His lieutenant re- No. 4. fr'CIUU 1 1 ^ cacacaca Caw peated the cry, and every crow in the troop began to tower and scatter from the rest, till they were far above gun shot, and so passed safely over, coming down again to the shelter of the valley when well beyond reach. An- other time, as the long, straggling troop came down the valley, a red-tailed hawk alighted on a tree close by their intended route. The leader cried out, 'Hawk, hawk,' and stayed No. 5. ^ ^^ Caw Caw his flight, as did each crow on nearing him, until all were massed in a solid body. Then, no longer fearing the hawk, they passed on. But a quarter of a mile farther on a man with a gun appeared below, and the cry, ' Great 6| i' Sflverspot 'I' ' danger— a gun, a gun ; scatter for your lives' at once caused them to scatter widely and tower No. 6. W- ^ cacacaca Caw till far beyond range. Many others of his words of command I learned in the course of ray long acquaintance, and found that sometimes a very little difference in the sound makes a very great difference in meaning. Thus while No. 5 means hawk, or any large, dangerous bird, this means ' wheel around,' evidently a ,i No. 7. 1^ ^^ i Caw Caw cacacaca combination of No. 5, whose root idea is dan- ger, and of No. 4, whose root idea is retreat, and this again is a mere ' good day,' to a far away No. 8. Caw Caw 68 \f Silvcfspot comrade. This is usually addressed to the ranks and means ' attention: Early in April there began to be great domgs among the crows. Some new cause of excitement seemed to have come on them They spent half the day among the pines, in- stead of foraging from dawn till dark. Pairs and trios might be seen chasing each other, and from time to time they showed off in various feats of flight. A favorite sport was to dart down suddenly from a great height toward some perching crow, and ji..t before touching It to turn at a hairbreadth and rebound in the air so fast that the wings of the swooper whirred with a sound like distant thunder. Sometimes one crow would lower his head, raise every feather, and coming close to another would gur- gle out a long note like No. 10. /f ^^>:?' )f ') :t :> If III f Silvetspot What did it all mean ? I soon learned, They were making love and pairing off. The males were showing off their wing powers and their voices to the lady crows. And they must have been highly appreciated, for by the middle of April all had mated and had scattered over the country for their honeymoon, leaving the som- bre old pines of Castle Frank deserted and silent. II The Sugar Loaf hill stands alone in the Don Valley. It is still covered with woods that join with those of Castle Frank, a quarter of a mile off. In the woods, between the two hills, is a pine-tree in whose top is a deserted hawk's nest. Every Toronto school-boy knows the nest, and, excepting that I had once shot a black squirrel on its edge, no one had ever seen a sign of life about it. There it was year after year, ragged and old, and falling to pieces. Yet, strange to tell, in all that time it never did drop to pieces, like other old nests. One morning in May I was out at gray dawn, and stealing gently through the woods, whose 70 Silvercpot dead leaves were so wet that no rustle was made. I chanced to pass under the old nest, and was surprised to see a black tail sticking over the edge. I struck the tree a smart blow, off flew a crow, and the secret was out. I had long suspected that a pair of crows nested each year about the pines, but now I realized that it was Silverspot and his wife. The old nest was theirs, and they were too wise to give it an air of spring-cleaning and housekeeping each year. Here they had nested for long, though guns in the hands of men and boys hungry to shoot crows were carried under their home every day. I never surprised the old fellow again, though I several times saw him through my telescope. One day while watching I saw a crow crossing the Don Valley with something white in his beak. He flew to the mouth of the Rosedale Brook, then took a short flight to the Beaver Elm. There he dropped the white object, and looking about gave me a chance to recognize my old friend Silverspot. After a minute he picked up the white thing— a shell— and walked over past the spring, and here, among the docks and the skunk-cabbages, he unearthed a pile of ■■n f¥h I!( ■1 Silvcfspot shells and other white, shiny things. He spread them out in the sun, turned them over, lifted them one by one in his beak, dropped them, nestled on them as though they were eggs, toyed with them and gloated over them like a miser. This was his hobby, his weakness. He could not have explained why he enjoyed them, any more than a boy can explain why he collects postage-stamps, or a girl why she prefers pearls to rubies ; but his pleasure in them was very real, and after half an hour he covered them all, in- cluulng the new one, with earth and leaves, and flew off. I went at once to the spot and ex- amined fhe hoard ; there was about a hatful in all, chiefly white pebbles, clam-shells, and some bits of tin, but there was also the handle of i china cup, which must have been the gem ol. the collection. That was the last time I saw them. Silvcrspot knew that I had found his treasures, and he removed them at once ; where I never knew. During the space that I watched him so closely he had many little adventures and escapes. He was once severely handled by a sparrowhawk, and often he was chased and 7a ^ '-i?^ Fie spread /er, lifted ed them, :gs, toyed ■ a miser, ^e could liem, any ? collects !rs pearls ^ery real, 1 all, in- ives, and and ex- iatful in md some idle of i • gemal! e I saw nnid his ; where him so es and ;d by a ed and ^ I The haiKlle of a china-cup, the gem of the collection. ! i ill . I" i" Silverspot worried by kingbirds. Not that these did him much harm, but they were such noisy pests that he avoided their company as quickly as possible, just as a grown man avoids a conflict with a noisy and impudent small boy. He had some cruel tricks, too. He had a way of going the round of the small birds' nests each morning to eat the new laid eggs, as regularly as a doctor visiting his patients. But we must not judge him for that, as it is just what we ourselves do to the hens in the barn- yard. His quickness of wit was often shown. One day I saw him flying down the ravine with a large piece of bread in his bill. The stream below him was at this time being bricked over as a sewer. There was one part of two hundred yards quite finished, and, as he flew over the open water just above this, the bread fell from his bill, and was swept by the current out of sight into the tunnel. He flew down and peered vainly into the dark cavern, then, act- ing upon a happy thought, he flew to the down- stream end of the tunnel, and awaiting the re- appearance of the floating bread, as it was swept 75 U 'ill Li! t.yt mi /. Sflvcfspot onward hy the current, he seized and bore it olf in tri'Tw.. Silverspoc wab a crow of the world. He was truly a successful crow. He lived in a region that, though full of dangers, abounded with food. In the old, unrepaired nest he raised a brood each year with bis wife, whom, by the way, I neve, could distinguish, and when the crows again gathered together he was their acknowledged chief. The reassembling takes place about the end of June— the young crows with their bob-tails, soft wings, and falsetto voices are brought by their, parents, whom they nearly equal in size^ and introduced to society at the old pine woods, a woods that is at once their fortress and col. lege. Here they find security in numbers and in lofty yet sheltered perches, and here they begin their schooling and are taught all the secrets of success in crow life, and in crow life the least failure does not simply mean begin again. It means tfeafA. The first week or two after their arrival is spent by the young ones in getting acquainted, for each crow must know personally all the 76 ^«.^ and bore it world. He e lived in a rs, abounded red nest he wife, whom, nguish, and ether he was lOut the end ir bob-tails, brought by ual in size^ pine woodsi »s and col« umbers and here they fht all the n crow life nean begin ■ arrival is icquainted, Uy all the '" is ^ i ?i ! ■(1 1 It ill a:^ I ] 1 4jfc': i W 1. I L«i ,.\ 9 S o Silverspot others in the band. Their parents meanwhile have time to rest a little after the work of rais- ing them, for now the youngsters are able to feed themselves and roost on a branch in a row, just like big folks. In a week or two the moulting season comes. At this time the old crows are usually irritable and nervous, but it does net stop them from be- ginning to drill the youngsters, who, of course, do not much enjoy the punishment and nagging tht-y get so soon after they have been mamma's own darlings. But it is all for their good, as the old lady said when she skinned the eels, and old Silverspot is an excellent teacher. Some- times he seems to make a speech to them. What he says I cannot guess, but, judging by the way they receive it, it must be extremely witty. Each morning there is a company drill, for the young ones naturally drop into two or three squads according to their age and strength. The rest of the day they forage with their parents. When at length September comes we find a great change. The rabble of silly little crows have begun to learn sense. The delicate blue 79 4 y kJ' i Silverspot '! iris of their eyes, the sign of a fool-crow, has given place to the dark brown eye of the old stager. They know their drill now and have learned sentry duty. They have been taught guns and traps and taken a special course in wire-worms and greencorn. They know that a fat old farmer's wife is much less dangerous, though so much larger, than her fifteen-year-old son, and they can tell the boy from his sister. They know that an umbrella is not a gun, and they can count up to six, which is fair for young crows, though Silverspot can go up nearly to thirty. They know the smell of gun- powder and the south side of a hemlock-tree, and begin to plume themselves upon being crows of the world. They always fold their wings three times after alighting, to be sure that it is neatly done. They know how to worry a fox into giving up half his dinner, and also that when the kingbird or the purple mar- tin assails them they must dash into a bush, for it is as impossible to fight the little pests a.^ it is for the fat apple-woman to catch the small boys v.ho have raided her basket. All these things do the young crows know ; but they have taken 80 Silvcfspot no lessons in egg-hunting yet, for it is not the season. They are unacquainted with clams, and have never tasted horses' eyes, or seen sprouted corn, and they don't know a thing about travel, the greatest educator of all. They did not think of that two months ago, and smce then they have thought of it, but have learned to wait till their betters are ready. September sees a grept change in the old crows, too. Their moulting is over. They are now in full feather again and proud of their handsome coats. Their health is again good, and with it their tempers are improved. Even old Silverspot, the strict teacher, becomes quite jolly, and the youngsters, who have long ago learned to respect him, begin really to love him. He has hammered away at drill, teaching them all the signals and words of command in use, and now it is a pleasure to see them in the early morning. ' Company i ./• the old chieftain would cry in crow, and Company i would answer with a great clamor. 'Flyr and himself leading them, they would all fly straight forward. 8i 't-vl Silverspot I !■! m, 'Mount/* and straight upward they turned in a moment. ' Bunch ! ' and they all massed into a dense black flock. * Scatter !^ and they spread out like leaves before the wind. * Form line ! ' and they strung out into the long line of ordinary flight. ^ Descend!^ and they all dropped nearly to the ground. * Forage ! ' and they alighted and scattered about to feed, while two of the permanent sen- tries mounted duty — one on a tree to the right, the other on a mound to the far left. A minute or two later Silverspot would cry out, ' A man with a gun ! ' The sentries repeated the cry and the company flew at once in open order as quickly as possible toward the trees. Once be- hind these, they formed line again in safety and returned to the home pines. Sentry duty is not taken in turn by all the crows, but a certain number whose watchfulness has been often proved are the perpetual sentrier, and are expected to watch and forage at the same time. Rather hard on them it seems to 8a Silverspot us, but it works well and the crow organization is admitted by all birds to be the very best in existence. Finally, each November sees the troop sail away southward to learn new modes of life, new landmarks and new kinds of food, under the guidance of the ever-wise Silverspot. in There is only one time when a crow is a fool, and that is at night. There is only one bird that terrifies the crow, and that is the owl. When, therefore, these come together it is a woful thing for the sable birds. The distant hoot of an owl after dark is enough to make them withdraw their heads from under their wings, and sit trembling and miserable till morning. In very cold weather the exposure of their faces thus has often resulted in a crow having one or both of his eyes frozen, so that blindness followed and therefore death. There are no hospitals for sick crows. 89 >''f -V-W-1 ■I It *ii V s ''I ■fi ii5 ■■< f Sflverspot But with the morning their courage comes again, and arousing themselves they ransack the woods for a mile around till they find that owl, and if they do not kill him they at least worry him half to death and drive him twenty miles away. In 1893 the crows had come as usual to Cas- tle Frank. I was walking in these woods a few days afterward when I chanced upon the track of a rabbit that had been running at full speed over the snow and dodgir about among the trees as though pursued. Strange to tell, I could see no track of the pursuer. I followed the trail and presently saw a drop of blood on the snow, and a little farther on found the part- ly devoured remains of a little brown bunny. What had killed him was a mystery until a care- ful search showed in the snow a great double- toed track and a beautifully pencilled brown feather. Then all was clear — a Jiorned owl. Half an hour later, in passiiig again by the place, there, in a tree, within ten feet of the bones of his victim, was the fierce-eyed owl Iiimself. The murderer still hung about the scene of his crime. For once circumstantial evidence had not lied. f ,t t r«i '•' m ! i> I Silverspot At my approach he gave a guttural < grrr-oo' and flew off with low flagging flight to haunt the distant sombre woods. Two days afterward, at dawn, there was a great uproar among the crows. I went out early to see, and found some black feathers drifting over the snow. I followed up the wind in the direc- tion from which they came and soon saw the bloody remains of a crow and the great double- toed track which again told me that the mur- derer was the owl. All around were signs of the struggle, but the fell destroyer was too strong. The poor crow had been dragged from his perch at night, when the darkness had put him at a hopeless disadvantage. I turned over the remains, and by chance unburied the head-then started with an ex- clamation of sorrow. Alas ! It was the head of old Silverspot. His long life of usefulness to his tribe was over— slain at last by the owl that he had taught so many hundreds of young crows to beware of. The old nest on the Sugar Loaf is abandoned now The crows still come in spring-time to Castle Frank, but without their famous leader .H Silverspot their numbers are dwindling, and soon they will be seen no more about the old pine-grove in which they and their forefathers had lived and learned for ages. ,i: If" **, 88 W c/) 1 Pf I i' m ;i •/ l^tfi H'/Hil mm «' 'I Raggylug The Story of a Cottontail Rabbit I 1.'' IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) 1.0 I.I 1.25 2.5 2.2 2.0 1.8 U IIIIII.6 V] m Photographic Sciences Corporation 33 WIST MAIN STRUT WiBSTIR, NY. I4S«0 (716) S73-4503 '4S L^x &/ i/.x ■ iMriiT"! •""■■ 4 I \ The Story of a Cottontail Rabbit Raggylug, or Rag, was the name of a young cottontail rabbit. It was given him from his torn and ragged ear, a life-mark that he got in his first adventure. He lived with his mother in Olifant's swamp, where I made their acquaint- ance and gathered, in a hundred different ways, the little bits of proof and scraps of truth that at length enabled me to write this history. Those who do not know the animals well may think I have humanized them, but those who have lived so near them as to know some- what of their ways and their minds will not think so. Truly rabbits have no speech as we under- stand it, but they have a way of conveying ideas by a system of sounds, signs, scents, whisker- 93 ' fV f •! I • i touches, movements, and example that answers the purpose o^ speech ; and it must be remem- bered that though in telling this story I free- ly translate from rabbit into English, / repeat nothing that they did not say. a ^ The rank swamp grass bent over and con- cealed the snug nest where Raggylug's mother had hidden him. She had partly covered him J|^ with some of the bedding, and, as always, her last warning was to ' lay low and say nothing, whatever happens.' Though tucked in bed, he was wide awake and his bright eyes were 94 ¥\ \. ^•(1 y taking in that part of his little green world that was straight above. A bluejay and a red- squirrel, two notorious thieves, were loudly be- rating each other for stealing, and at one time Rag's home bush was the centre of their fight; a yellow warbler caught a blue butterfly but six inches from his nose, and a scarlet and black ladybug, serenely waving her knobbed feelers, took a long walk up one grassblade, down another, and across the nest and over Rag's face — and yet he never moved nor even winked. After a while he heard a strange rustling of the leaves in the near thicket. It was an odd, continuous sound, and though it went this way and that way rid came ever nearer, there was no patter of leet with it. Rag had lived his whole life in the Swamp (he was three weeks old) and yet had never heard anything like this. Of course his curiosity was greatly aroused. His mother had cautioned him to lay low, but that was understood to be in case of danger, and this strange sound without foot- falls could not be anything to fear. The low rasping went past close at hand, then to the right, then back, and seemed going 95 n f IH mil I ) '1 away. Rag felt he knew what he was about • he wasn't a baby ; it was his duty to learn what It was. He slowly raised his roly-poly body on his short flufTy legs, lifted his little round head above the covering of his nest and peeped out into the woods. The sound had ceased as soon as he moved. He saw nothing, so took one step forward to a clear view, and instantly found himself face to face with an enormous Black Serpent. " Mammy," he screamed in mortal terror as the monster darted at him. With all the strength of his tiny limbs he tried to run. But in a flash the Sftake had him by one ear and whipp.«d around him with his coils to gloat over the helpless little baby bunny he had secured for dinner. "Mam-my-Mam-my," gasped poor little ^aggylug as the cruel monster began slowly choking him to death. Very soon the little one's cry would have ceased, but bounding through the woods straight as an arrow came Mammy. No longer a shy, helpless little Molly Cottontail, ready to fly from a shadow : the mother's love was strong in her. The cry of 96 'M-immy. Mammy I " he screamed, in mortal terror. % Mm 'i r I '(• ^ I! i'-(« l!f her baby had filled her with the courage of a hero, and— hop, she went over that horrible reptile. Whack, she struck down at him with her sharp hind claws as she passed, giving him such a stinging blow that he squirmed with pain and hissed with anger. "M-a-m-m-y," came feebly from the little one. And Mammy came leaping again and again and struck harder and fiercer until the loathsome reptile let go the little one's ear and tried to bite the old one as she leaped over. But all he got was a mouthful of wool each time, and Molly's fierce blows began to tell, as long bloody rips were torn in the Black Snake's scaly armor. Things were now looking bad for the Snake ; and bracing himself for the next charge, he lost his tight hold on Baby Bunny, who at once wriggled out of the coils and away into the underbrush, breathless and terribly fright- ened, but unhurt save that his left ear was much torn by the teeth of that dreadful Serpent. Molly now had gained all she wanted. She had no notion of fighting for glory or revenge. Away she went into the woods and the little 99 \ _ 111 i li i Ragfgfylugf one followed the shining beacon of her snow- white tail until she led him to a safe corner of the Swamp. ' m II Old Olifant's Swamp was a rough, brambly tract of second-growth woods, with a marshy pond and a stream through the middle. A few ragged remnants of the old forest still stood in it and a few of the still older trunks were lying about as dead logs in the brushwood. The land about the pond was of that willow- grown sedg^ kind that cats and horses avoid, but that cattle do not fear. The drier zones were overgrown with briars and young trees. The outermost belt of all, that next the fields, was of thrifty, gummy - trunked young pines whose living needles in air and dead ones on earth offer so delicious an odor to the nostrils of the pa3ser-by, and so deadly a breath to those seedlings that would compete with them for the worthless waste they grow on. All around for a long way were smooth fields, and the only wild tracks that ever crossed lOO these fields were those of a thoroughly bad and unscrupulous fox that lived only too near. The chief indwellers of the swamp were Molly and Rag. Their nearest neighbors were far away, and their nearest kin were dead. This was their home, and here they lived to- gether, and here Rag received the training that made his success in life. Molly was a good little mother and gave him a careful bringing up. The first thing he teamed was * to lay low and say nothing. ' His adventure with the snake taught him the wis- dom of this. Rag never forgot that lesson ; af- terward he did as he was told, and it made the other things come more easily. The second lesson he learned was 'freeze.' It grows out of the first, and Rag was taught it as soon as he could run. 'Freezing' is simply doing nothing, turning into a statue. As soon as he finds a foe near, no matter what he is doing, a well-trained Cot- tontail keeps just as he is and stops all move- ment, for the creatures of the woods are of the same color as the things in the woods and catch the eye only while moving. So when lox ilf'i enemies chance together, the one who first sees the other can keep himself unseen by * freez- ing ' and thus have all the advantage of choos- ing the time for attack or escape. Only those who live in the woods know the importance of this; every wild creature and every hunter must learn it ; all learn to do it well, but not one of them can beat Molly Cottontail in the doing. Rag's mother tau^^ht him this trick by example. When the white cotton cushion that she always carried to sit on went bobbing away through the woods, of course Rag ran his hardest to keep up. But when Molly stopped and *fr6ze,' the natural wish to copy made him do the same. I J But the best lesson of all that Rag learned from his mother was the secret of the Brierbrush. It is a very old secret now, and to make it plain you must first hear why the Brierbrush quarrelled with the beasts. r/ I02 lio first sees by * freez- je of choos- Only those portance of ery hunter ill, but not itail in the this trick on cushion nt bobbing flag ran his Uy stopped copy made Lag learned Brierbrush. :o make it Brierbrush J^^ Long ago the Roses used ^^ to grow on bushes that had no thorns. ^ j^T^ B»* the Squirrels and Mice used to Isr climb after them, the Cattle used to knock K them off with their horns, the Possum yjj would twitch them off with his long tail, <^^\ and the Deer, with his sharp hoofs, would \J break them down. So the Brierbrush armed itself with spikes to protect its roses and declared eternal war on all creatures that climbed trees, or had horns, or hoofs, or long tails. This left the Brierbrush at peace with none but Molly Cottontail, who could not climb, ■was hornless, hoofless, and had scarcely any tail at all. "^ /« truth the Cottontail had never harmed a Brierrose, and having now so many enemies the Rose took the Rabbit into especial friend, ship, and when dangers are threatening poor Bunny he flies to the nearest Brierbrush, cer. tain that it is ready with a million keen and poisoned daggers to defend him. 103 ii ■-«».--», .I— «.^ 1 V ;| \ llk^. -«% So the secret that Rag learned from his mother was, ' The Brierbush is your best friend.* Much of the time that season was spent in learning the lay of the land, and the bramble and brier mazes. And Rag learned them so well that he could go all around the swamp by two different ways and never leave the friendly brici-s at any place for more than five hops. It is not long since the foes of the Cotton, tails were disgusted to find that man had brought a new kind of bramble and planted it in long lines throughout the country. It was 30 strong that no creatures could break it down, and so feharp that the toughest skin was torn by it. Each year there was more of it and each year it became a more serious matter to the wild creatures. But Molly Cottontail had no fear of it. She was not brought up in the briers for nothing. Dogs and foxes, cattle and sheep, and even man himself might be torn by those fearful spikes: but Molly understands it and lives and thrives under it. And the further it spreads the more safe country there is for the Cottontail. And the name of this new and dreaded bramble is — t/ie barbed-wire fence, 104 ^^grgfylugr III Molly had no other children to look after now, so Rag had all her care. He was unusu- ally quick and bright as well as strong, and he had uncommonly good chances ; so he got on remarkably well. All the season she kept him busy learning the tricks of the trail, and what to eat and drink and what not to touch. Day by day she worked to tram him ; little by little she taught him puttmg into his mind hundreds of ideas that her own hfe or early training had stored in hers and so equipped him with the knowledge thai makes life possible to their kind. Close by her side in the clover-field or the th.cket he would sit and copy her when she wobbled her nose ' to keep her smeller clear,' and pull the bite from her mouth or taste her lips to make sure he was getting the same kind of fodder. Still copying her, he learned to comb his ears with his claws and to dress his coat and to bite the buri^ out of his vest and socks. He learned, too, that nothing but clear \i Raggylog i'M< •'ll dewdrops from the briers were fit for a rabbit to drink, as water which has once touched the earth must surely bear some taint. Thus he began the study of woodcraft, the oldest of all sciences. As soon as Rag was big enough to go out alone, his mother taught him the signal code. Rabbits telegraph each other by thumping on the ground with their hind feet. Along the ground sound carries far ; a thump that at six feet from the earth is not heard at twenty yards will, near the ground, be heard at least one hundred .yards. Rabbits have very keen hear- ing, and so might hear this same thump at two hundred yards, and that would reach from end to end of Olifant's Swamp. A single ^hump means * look out ' or ' freeze. ' A slow t/iump thump means 'come.' A fast thump thump means * danger ; ' and a very fast thump thump thump means * run for dear life.' At another time, when the weather was fine and the bluejays were quarrelling among them- selves, a sure sign that no dangerous foe was about. Rag began a new study. Molly, by flattening her ears, gave the sign to squat. Then ■ io6 Ragrgryltigr she ran far away in the thicket and gave the thumping signal for ' come.' Rag set out at a run to the place but could not find Molly. He thumped, but got no reply. Setting carefully about his search he found her foot-scent and following this strange guide, that the beasts all know so well and man does not know at all, he worked out the trail and found her where she was hidden. Thus he got his first lesson in trailing, and thus it was that the games of hide and seek they played became the schooling for the serious chase of which there was so much in his after life. Before that first season of schooling was over he had learnt all the principal tricks by which a rabbit lives and in not a few problems showed himself a veritable genius. He was an adept at *tree,' 'dodge,' and 'squat,' he could play 'log-lump,' with 'wind' and ' baulk ' with ' back- track ' so well that he scarcely needed any other tricks. He had not yet tried it, but he knew just how to play ' barb-wire,' which is a new trick of the brill- iant order ; he had made a special study of 'sand,' which bums up all scent, and he was 107 un \ti \ I Rasfgyltf gr deeply versed in 'change-off/ 'fence,' and 'double ' as well as ' hole-up/ which is a trick requiring longer notice, and yet he never forgot that * lay-low ' is the beginning of all wisdom and ' brierbush ' the only trick that is always safe. He was taught the signs by which to know all his foes and then the way to baffle them. For hawks, owls, foxes, hounds, curs, minks, weasels, cats, skunks, coons, and men, each have a different plan of pursuit, and for each and all of these evils he was taught a remedy. And for knowledge of the enemy's approach he learnt to depend first on himself and his mother, and then on the bluejay. '« Never neglect the bluejay 's warning," said Molly; "he is a mischief-maker, a marplot, and a thief all the time, but nothing escapes him. He wouldn't mind harming us, but he cannot, thanks to the briers, and his enemies are ours, so it is well to heed him. If the woodpecker cries a warning you can trust him, he is honest ; but he is a fool beside the bluejay, and though the bluejay of- ten tells lies for mischief you are safe to believe him when he brings ill news." 108 The barb-wire trick takes a deal of nerve and the best of legs. It was long before Rag vent- ured to play it, but as he came to his full pow- ers it became one of his favorites. ''It's fine play for those who can do it," said Molly. * ' First you lead off your dog on a straightaway and warm him up a bit by nearly letting him catch you. Then keeping just one hop ahead, you lead him at a long slant full tilt into a breast-high barb-wire. I've seen many a dog and fox crippled, and one big hound killed outright this way. But I've also seen more than one rabbit lose his life in trying it." Rag early learnt what some rabbits never learn at all, that ' hole-up ' is not such a fine ruse as it seems ; it may be the certain safety of a wise rabbit, but soon or late is a sure death- trap to a fool. A young rabbit always thinks of it first, an old rabbit never tries it till all others fail. It means escape from a man or dog, a fox or a bird of prey, but it means sud- den death if the (rs is a ferret, mink, skunk, or weasel. There were but two ground-holes in the Swamp. One on the Sunning Bank, which was 109 tH 000 CKtUKt rosiTl'OYlS I ' ( 1 'Mi f|l Ragfgyltig: a dry sheltered knoll in the South-end. It was open and sloping to the sun, and here on fine days the Cottontails took their sunbaths. They stretched out among the fragrant pine needles and winter-green in odd cat-like positions, and turned slowly over as though roasting and wish- ing all sides well done. And they blinked and panted, and squirmed as if in dreadful pain ; yet this was one of the keenest enjoyments they knew. Just over the brow of the knoll was a large pine stump. Its grotesque roots wriggled out above the yellow sand-bank like dragons, and under thfeir protecting claws a sulky old wood- chuck had digged a den long ago. He became more sour and ill-tempered as weeks went by, and one day waited to quarrel with Olifant's dog instead of going in so that Molly Cotton- tail was able to take possession of the den an hour later. This, the pine-root hole, was afterward very coolly taken by a self-sufficient young skunk who with less valor might have enjoyed greater lon- gevity, for he imagined that even man with a gun would fly from him. Instead of keeping no Molly from the den for good, therefore, his reign, like that of a certain Hebrew king, was over in four days. The other, the fern-hole, was in a fern thicket next the clover field. It was small and damp, and useless except as a last retreat. It also was the work of a woodchuck, a well-meaning friendly neighbor, but a hare-brained youngster whose skin in the form of a whip-lash was now developing higher horse-power in the Olifant working team. "Simple justice," said the old man, ''for that hide was raised on stolen feed that the team would a' turned into horse-power anyway." The Cottontails were now sole ownere of the holes, and did not go near them when they could help it, lest anything like a path should be made that might betray these last retreats to an enemy. There was also the hollow hickory, which though nearly fallen, was still green, and had the great advantage of being open at both ends. This had long been the residence of one Lotor, a solitary old coon whose ostensible calling was / frog-hunting, and who, like the monks of old >/ in ' y* H 1 1 \ ; :/ /' was supposed to abstain from all flesh food. But it was shrewdly suspected that he needed but a chance to indulge in a diet of rabbit. When at last one dark night he was killed while raid- ing Olifant's hen-house, Molly, so far from feel- ing a pang of regret, took possession of his cosy nest with a sense of unbounded relief. I ! I i • i rv Bright August sunlight was flooding the Swamp in the morning. Everything seemed soaking in fhe warm radiance. A little brown swamp-sparrow was teetering on a long rush in the pond. Beneath him there were open spaces of dirty water that brought down a few scraps of the blue sky, and worked it and the yellow duckweed into an exquisite mosaic, with a little wrong-side picture of the bird in the middle. On the bank behind was a great vigorous growth of golden green skunk-cabbage, that cast dense shadow over the brown swamp tussocks. The eyes of the swamp-sparrow were not trained to take in the color glories, but he saw what we might have missed ; that two of the iia Ragrgyltjgr numberless leafy brown bumps under the broad cabbage-leaves were furry living things, with noses that never ceased to move up and down whatever else was still. It was Molly and Rag. They were stretched under the skunk-cabbage, not because they liked its rank smell, but because the winged ticks could not stand it at all and so left them in peace. Rabbits have no set time for lessons, they are always learning; but what the lesson is de- pends on the present stress, and that must arrive before it is known. They went to this place for a quiet rest, but had not been long there when suddenly a warning note from the ever-watchful bluejay caused Molly's nose and ears to go up and her tail to tighten to her back. Away across the Swamp was Olifanfs big black and white dog, coming straight toward them. " Now," said Molly, "squat while I go and keep that fool out of mischief." Away she went to meet him and she fearlessly dashed across the dog's path. " Bow-ow-ow," he fairly yelled as he bound- 113 Ragfgrlwgr IfM » M! ed after Molly, but she kept just beyond his reach and led him where the million daggers struck fast and deep, till his tender ears were scratched raw, and guided him at last plump into a hidden barbed-wire fence, where he got such a gashing that he went homeward howling with pain. After making a short double, a loop and a baulk in case the dog should come back, Molly returned to find that Rag in his eagerness was standing bolt upright and craning his neck to see the sport. This disobedience made her so angry that she struck hin| with her hind foot and knocked him over in the mud. One day as they fed on the near clover field a red-tailed hawk came swooping after them. Molly kicked up her hind legs to make fun of him and skipped into the briers along one of their old pathways, where of course the hawk could not follow. It was the main path from the Creekside Thicket to the Stove-pipe brush- pile. Several creepers had grown across it, and Molly, keeping one eye on the hawk, set to work and cut the creepers off. Rag watched her, then ran on ahead, and cut some more that 114 Raggfylagr were across the path. " That's right," said Molly, "always keep the runways clear, you will need them often enough. Not wide, but clear. Cut everything like a creeper across them and some day you will find you have cut a snare. **A what?" asked Rag, as he scratched his right ear with his left hind foot. "A snare is something that looks like a creeper, but it doesn't grow and it's worse than all the hawks in the world," said Molly, glanc- ing at the now far-away red-tail, " for there it hides night and day in the runway till the chance to catch you comes." "I don't believe it could catch me," said Rag, with the pride of youth as he rose on his heels to rub his chin and whiskers high up on a smooth sapling. Rag did not know he was doing this, but his mother saw and knew it was £, sign, like the changing of a boy's voice, that her little one was no longer a baby but would soon be a grown-up Cottontail. n "5 iM^i 1\ i Ml f: J'i M Hi Ragfgylugr There is magic in running water. Who does not know it and feel it ? The railroad builder fearlessly throws his bank across the wide b ,gor lake, or the sea itself, but the tiniest rill of run- ning water he treats with great respect, studies Its wish and its way and gives it rii it seems to ask. The thirst-parched traveller in the poi- sonous alkali deserts holds h.r^ k in deadly fear from the sedgy ponds till he finds one down whose centre is a thin, clear line, and a faint flow, the sign of running, living water, and joy- fully he drinks. There is magic in running water, no evil spell can cross it. Tam O'Shanter proved its potency in time of sorest need. The wild-wood creature with its deadly foe following tireless on the trail scent, realizes its nearing doom and feels an awful spell. Its strength is spent, its every trick is tried in vain till the good Angel leads it to the water, the running, living water, and dashing in it follows the cooling stream, and then with force renewed takes to the woods again. zi6 ^^^^■k^U ,,-- \l ^Hffl % ': h' ^^^H vMI is HHH' iMp f ^^B ^1 • Hilt' \ ^^^^^H lilMi \ i t *-♦« ♦ »M«* m- * '. Who does road builder ; wide b igor St rill of riin- ipcct, studies II it seems to in the poi- 1 deadly fear s one down > and a faint ter, and joy- :er, no evil ■ proved its J wild-wood g tireless on ; doom and is spent, its good Angel ving water, ing stream, • the woods y. Ill mmmf. Rajr Followed tne Snow-white Beacon, i»! irii '■■' - »» There is magic in running water. The hounds come to the very spot and halt and cast about ; and halt and cast in vain. Their spell is broken by the merry stream, and the wild thing lives its life. And this was one of the great secrets that Raggylug learned from his mother—" after the Brierrose, the Water is your friend." One hot, muggy night in August, Molly led Rag through the woods. The cotton-white cushion she wore under her tail twinkled ahead and was his guiding lantern, though it went out as soon as she stopped and sat on it. After a few runs and stops to listen, they came to the edge of the pond. The hylas in the trees above them were singing ' sleep, sleep,' and away out on a sunken log in the deep water, up to his chin in the cooling bath, a bloated bullfrog was singing the praises of a 'jug o' rum.* "Follow me still," said Molly, in rabbit, and * flop ' she went into the pond and struck out for the sunken log in the middle. Rag flinched but plunged with a little 'ouch,' gasping and wobbling his nose very fast but still copying his mother. The same move- nt kl^ u^ ss^Rasa ments as on land sent him through the water, and thus he found he could swim. On he went till he reached the sunken log and scrambled up by his dripping mother on the high dry end, with a rushy screen around them and the Water that tells no tales. After this in warm black nights when that old fox from Springfield came prowling through the Swamp, Rag would note the place of the bullfrog's voice, for in case of direst need it might be a guide to safety. And thenceforth the words of the song that the bullfrog sang were, ' Come, come, in danger come/ This was the latest study that Rag took up with his mother— it was really a post-graduate course, for many little rabbits never learn it at all. VI No wild animal dies of old age. Its life has soon or late a tragic end. It is only a question of how long it can hold out against its foes. But Rag's life was proof that once a rabbit passes out of his youth he is likely to outlive his prime lao € Ragfgyltig: and be killed only in the last third of life the downhill third we call old age. The Cottontails had enemies on every side Their daily life was a series of escapes. For dogs, foxes, cats, skunks, coons, weasels, minks snakes hawks, owls, and men, and even insects were all plotVng to kill them. They had hun- dreds of adventures, and at least once a day they had to fly for their lives and save themselves by their legs and wits. More than once that hateful fox from Spring, field drove them to taking refuge under the wreck of a barbed-wire hog-pen by the spring. But once there they could look calmly at him while he spiked his legs in vain attempts to reach them. Once or twice Rag when hunted had played off the hound against a skunk that had seemed hkely to be quite as dangerous as the dog Once he was caught alive by a hunter who had a hound and a ferret to help him. But Rag had the luck to escape next day, with a yet deeper distrust of ground holes. He was several times run into the water by the cat, and many times was chased by hawks and owls, but lai ^'^^'^y^^^^.jm^^ "^s^^ ^' t iJ.'l ¥ SfWT'lt ' U if !!• i Ragfgylagr for each kind of danger there was a safeguard. His mother taught him the principal dodges, and he improved on them and made many new ones as he grew older. And the older and wiser he grew the less he trusted to his legs, and the more to his wits for safety. Ranger was the name of a young hound in the neighborhood. To train him his master used to put him on the trail of one of the Cot- tontails. It was nearly always Rag that they ran, for the young buck enjoyed the runs as much as they did, the spice of danger in them being just enough for zest. He would say : '* Oh, Another ! here comes the dog again, I must have a run to-day. ' ' " You are too bold, Raggy, my son I " she might reply. «« I fear you will run once too often." " But, mother, it is such glorious fun to tease that fool dog, and it's all good training. I'll thump if I am too hard pressed, then you can come and change off while I get my second wind." On he would come, and Ranger would take the trail and follow till Rag got tired of it. Then « (I i safeguard. 1 dodges, iiany new and wiser , and the hound in is master the Cot- hat they runs as • in them say: again, I i!" she )nce too to tease ig. I'll you can / second take the Then Ragfgfylugf he either sent a thumping telegram for help, which brought Molly to take charge of the dog or he got rid of the dog by some clever trick A description of one of these shows how weli Kag had learned the arts of the woods He knew that his scent lay best near the ground, and was strongest when he was warm A . ^^B ^ I, V ^Jt■"%.:ty'^ I H '. ...,.., !.<'.' ^ ;• /■■ U'/ So If he could get off the ground, and be left in peace for half an hour to cool off, and for the fail to stale, he knew he would be safe. When therefore he tired of the chase, he made fo; theCreekside brier-patch, where he 'wound'- that ,s zigzagged-till he leftacoui^eso crooked tha the dog was sure to be greatly delayed in working ,t out. He then went straight to D 133 i K m u I f I m 11 J 'i:; ;l, ^ P'JI J Ragfgrltig: in, the woods, passing one hop to windwarfl of the high log E. Stopping at D, he followed his back trail to F, here he leaped aside and ran toward G. Then, returning on his trail to J, he waited till the hound passed on his trail at I. Rag then got back on his old trail at H, and followed it to E, where, with a scent-baulk or great leap aside, he reached the high log, and running to its higher end, he sat like a bump. Ranger lost much time in the bramble maze, and the scent was very poor when he got it straightened out, and came to D. Here he be- gan ito circle to pick it up, and after losing much time, struck the trail which ended sud- denly at G. Again he was at fault, and had to circle to find the trail. Wider and wider the circles, until at last, he passed right under the log Rag was on. But a cold scent, on a cold day, does not go downward much. Rag never budged nor winked, and the hound passed. Again the dog came round. This time he crossed the low part of the log, and stopped to smell it. 'Yes, clearly it was rabbity,' but it was a stale scent now ; still he mounted the log. It was a trying moment for Rag, as the great 124 11 ( u i D windwarri of ), he followed 1 aside and ran his trail to J, I his trail at I. ail at H, and scent-baulk or high log, and like a bump. )ramble maze, len he got it Here he be- i after losing h ended sud- It, and had to md wider the ght under the tit, on a cold . Rag never d passed. This time he id stopped to )bity,' but it inted the log. , as the great !\» fn T ji I' A' I .,— jcrt 1;};! if I The hound came snifting along the log. m. '' rii ■ ! Ragfgylug: hound came sniff-sniffing along the log. But his nerve did not forsake him; the wind was right ; he had his mind made up to bolt as soon as Ranger came half way up. But he didn't come. A yellow cur would have seen the rabbit sitting there, but the hound did not, and the scent seemed stale, so he leaped off the log, and Rag had won. VII Rag had never seen any other rabbit than his mother. Indeed he had scarcely thought about there being any other. He was more and more away from her now, and yet he never felt lonely, for rabbits do not hanker for com- pany. But one day in December, while he was among the red dogwood brush, cutting a new path to the great Creekside thicket, he saw all at once against the sky over the Sunning Bank the head and ears of a strange rabbit. The new- comer had the air of a well-pleased discoverer and soon came hopping Rag's way along one of his paths into his Swamp. A new feeling rushed over him, that boiling mixture of anger and hatred called jealousy. XVI k.u ;1 The stranger stopped at one of Rag's rubbing, trees — that is, a tree against which he used to stand on his heels and rub his chin as far up as he could reach. He thought he did this simply because he liked it; but all buck-rabbits do so, and several ends are served. It makes the tree ^rabbity, so that other rabbits know that this ""swamp already belongs to a rabbit family and is not open for settlement. It also lets the next one know by the scent if the last caller was an acquaintance, and the height from the ground of the rubbing-places shows how tall the rabbit is. Now to his disgust Rag noticed that the new- comer was a head taller than himself, and a big, stout buck at that. This was a wholly new experience and filled Rag with a wholly new feeling. The spirit of murder entered his heart ; he chewed very hard with nothing in his mouth, and hopping forward onto a smooth piece of hard ground he struck slowly : ' Thump— thump—thump,' which is a rabbit telegram for, ' Get out of my swamp, or fight.' The new-comer made a big V with his ears, sat upright for a few seconds, then, dropping on 128 it his fore-feet, sent along the ground a louder, stronger, ' Thump— thump— thump.' And so war was declared. They came together by short runs side-wise, each one trying to get the wind of the other and watching for a chance advantage. The stranger was a big, heavy buck with plenty of muscle, but one or two trifles such as treading on a turnover and failing to close when Rag was on low ground showed that he had not much cunning and counted on winning his battles by his weight. On he came at last and Rag met him like a little fury. As they came together they leaped up and struck out with their hind feet. Thud, thud they came, and down went poor little Rag. In a moment the stranger was on him with his teeth and Rag was bitten, and lost several tufts of hair before he could get up. But he was swift of foot and got out of reach. Again he charged and again he was knocked down and bitten severely. He was no match for his foe, and it soon became a question of saving his own life. Hurt as he was he sprang away, with the stran- ger in full chase, and bound to kill him as well 129 1 K Aly M i'ui 1,1,' ^ ■ i I ll! / Myi if Ragfgfylugf as to oust him from the Swamp where he was born. Rag's legs were good and so was his wind. The stranger was big and so heavy that he soon gave up the chase, and it was well for poor Rag that he did, for he was getting stiff from his wounds as well as tired. From that day began a reign of terror for Rag. His training had been against owls, dogs, weasels, men, and so on, but what to do when chased by another rabbit, he did not know. All he knew was to lay low till he was found, then run. Poor little Molly was completely terrorized ; she could not help Rag and sought only to hide. But the big buck soon found her out. She tried to run from him, but she was not now so swift as Rag. The stranger made no attempt to kill her, but he made love to her, and because she hated him and tried to get away, he treated her shamefully. Day after day he worried her by following her about, and often, furious at her lasting hatred, he would knock her down and tear out mouthfuls of her soft fur till his rage cooled somewhat, when he would let her go for a while. But his fixed 130 !/ •! ~''^^ '"'' ^"* '" ^t^^'^^ft^taff^WS^.:^ lere he was so was his heavy that 'as well for jetting stiff From that iag. His ;s, weasels, len chased V. All he )und, then errorized; t only to bund her ut shs was iger made »ve to her, sd to get Day after bout, and he would "uls of her when he his fixed Ragfgylug: purpose was to kill Rag, whose escape seemed hopeless. There was no other swamp he could go to, and whenever he took a nap now he had to be ready at any moment to dash for his life. A dozen times a day the big stranger came creeping up to where he slept, but each time the watchful Rag awoke in time to escape. To escape yet not to escape. He saved his life in- deed, but oh! what a miserable life it had be- come. How maddening to be thus helpless, to see his little mother daily beaten and torn, as well as to see all his favorite feeding-grounds, the cosy nooks, and the pathways he had made with so much labor, forced from him by this hateful brute. Unhappy Rag realized that to the victor belong the spoils, and he hated him more than ever he did fox or ferret. How was it to end? He was wearing out with running and watching and bad food, and httle Molly's strength and spirit were breaking down under the long persecution. The stranger was ready to go to all lengths to destroy poor Rag, and at last stooped to the worst crime known among rabbits. However much they may hate each other, all good rabbits forget 131 ^rir,'.if. :X r. — i"in riroimliM i • « 1 II H\ ' b .-.>> Ragfgylogr their feuds when their common enemy appears. Yet one day when a great goshawk came swoop- ing over the Swamp, the stranger, keeping well under cover himself, tried again and again to drive Rag into the open. Once or twice the hawk nearly had him, but still the briers saved him, and it was only when ;^the big buck himself came near being caught that he gave it up. And again Rag escaped, but was no better off. He made up his mind to leave, with his mother, if possible, next night and go into the w ->rld in quest of some new home when he heard old Thunder, the hound, Sniffing and searching about the out- skirts of the swamp, and he resolved on playing a desperate game. He deliberately crossed the hound's view, and the chase that then began was fast and furious. Thrice around the Swamp they went till Rag had made sure that his mother was hidden safely and that his hated foe was in his usual nest. Then right into that nest and plump over him he jumped, giving him a rap with one hind foot as he passed over his head. •'You miserable fool, I kill you yet," cried 132 PI IL.- U i Ragfgylugr the stranger, and up he jumped only to find him- self between Rag and the dog and heir to all the peril of the chase. On came the hound baying hotly on the straight-away scent. The buck's weight and size were great advantages in a rabbit fight, but now they were fatal. He did not know many tricks. Just the simple ones like 'double,' * wind,' and ' hole-up,' that every baby Bunny knows. But the chase was too close for doub- ling and winding, and he didn't know where the holes were. It was a straight race. The brier-rose, kind to all rabbits alike, did its best, but it was no use. The baying of the hound was fast and steady. The crashing of the brush and the yelping of the hound each time the briers tore his tender ears were borne to the two rabbits where they crouched in hiding. But suddenly these sounds stopped, there was a scuffle, then loud and terrible screaming. Rag knew what it meant and it sent a shiver through him, but he soon forgot that when all was over and rejoiced to be once more the master of the dear old Swamp. 133 5 . irk i. ■ h ' Jiij Rajgfyltigr I '.<• VIII Old Olifant had doubtless a right to burn all those brush-piles in the east and south of the Swamp and to clear up the wreck of the old barbed-wire hog-pen just below the spring. But it was none the less hard on Rag and his mother. The first were their various residences and out- posts, and the second their grand fastness and safe retreat. They had so long held the Swamp and felt it to be their very own in every part and suburb, -including Olifant's grounds and buildings— that they would have resented the appearance of another rabbit even about the adjoining barnyard. Their claim, that of long, successful occu- pancy, was exactly the same as that by which most nations hold their land, and it would be hard to find a better right. During the time of the January thaw the Olifants had cut the rest of the large wood about the pond and curtailed the Cottontails' domain on all sides. But they still clung to the dwindling Swamp, for it was their home and »34 u • burn all th of the ' the old ng. But s mother, and out- tness and nd felt it suburb, Idings — pearance djoining ful occu- •y which I'ould be liaw the ;e wood tontails' Jg to the me and ■A i:» they were loath to move to foreign parts. Their life of daily perils went on, but they were still fleet of foot, long of wind, and bright of wit. Of late they had been somewhat troubled by a mink that had wandered up-stream to their ^vv\u quiet nook. A little judicious guidance had ^""^ * transferred the uncomfortable visitor to Oli- fant's hen-house. But they were not yet quite sure that he had been properly looked after. So for the present they gave up using the ground- holes, which were, of course, dangerous blind- alleys, and stuck closer than ever to the briers and the brush-piles that were left. That first snow had quite gone and the weather was bright and warm until now. Molly, feeling a touch of rheumatism, was somewhere in the lower thicket seeking a teaberry tonic. Rag was sitting in the weak sunlight on a bank in the east side. The smoke from the fa- miliar gable chimney of Olifant's house came fitfully drifting a pale blue haze through the underwoods and showing as a dull brown against the brightness of the sky. The sun-gilt gable was cut off midway by the banks of brier- brush, that purple in shadow shone like rods of 135 /T'i^,/^-j-i^ ^^ ^*mmMi tMs ,A I i il ' M,- Ragfgylugf blazing crimson and gold in the light. Beyond the house the barn with its gable and roof, new gilt as th^ house, stood up like a Noah's ark. The sjunds that came from it, and yet more the delfcious smell that mingled with the smoke, told R4g that the animals were being fed cab- bage in the yard. Rag's moutn watered at the idea of the feast. He blinked and blinked as he snuffed its odorous promises, for he loved cabbage dearly. But then he had been to the barnyard the night before after a few paltry clover-tops, and no wise rabbit would go two nights running to the same place. Therefore he did the wise thing. He moved across where he could not smell the cabbage and made his supper of a bundle of hay that had been blown from the stack. Later, when about to settle for the night, he was joined by Molly, who had taken her teaberry and then eaten her frugal meal of sweet birch near the Sunning Bank. '^ Meanwhile the sun had gone about his busi- ness elsewhere, taking all his gold and glory with him. Off in the east a big black shutter came pushing up and rising higher and higher; 136 i\ Ragfgfylug: it spread over the whole sky, shut out all light and left the world a very gloomy place indeed. Then another mischief-maker, the wind, taking advantage of the sun's absence, came on the scene and set about brewing trouble. The weather turned colder and colder; it seemed worse than when the ground had been covered with snow. '• Isn't this terribly cold ? How I wish we had our stove-pipe brush-pile," said Rag. " A good night for the pine-root hole," re- plied Molly, '* but we have not yet seen the pelt of that mink on the end of the barn, and it is not safe till we do." The hollow hickory was gone— in fact at this very moment its trunk, lying in the wood-yard, was harboring the mink they feared. So the Cottontails hopped to the south side of the pond and, choosing a brush-pile, they crept under and snuggled down for the night, facing the wind but with their noses in different directions so as to go out different ways in case of alarm. The wind blew harder and colder as the hours went by, and about midnight a fine icy snow came ticking down on the dead leaves and hissing through the brush heap. It might seem a poor J37 i« I' w llM li. ik I ' ' 1 night for hunting, but that old fox from Spring- field was out. He came pointing up the wind m the shelter of the Swamp and chanced in the lee of the brush-pile, where he scented the sleeping Cottontails. He halted for a moment then came stealthily sneaking up toward the brush under which his nose told him the rabbits were crouching. The noise of the wind and the sleet enabled him to come quite close be- fore Molly heard the faint crunch of a dry leaf under his paw. She touched Rag's whis- kers, and both were fully awake just as the fox sprang on them; but they always slept with their legs ready for a jump. Molly darted out into the blinding storm. The fox missed his spring but followed like a racer, while Rag dashed off to one side. There was only one road for Molly; that was straight up the wind, and bounding for her life she gained a little over the unfrozen mud that would not carry the fox, till she reached the margin ^f the pond. No chance to turn now, on she must go. Splash ! splash ! through the weeds she went, then plunge into the deep water. 138 til (I c from Spring- g up the wind hanced in the scented the "or a moment, p toward the m the rabbits he wind and uite close be- ch of a dry Rag's whis- jst as the fox 2pt with their rted out into sd his spring g dashed off ly; that was ing for her 1 frozen mud she reached nee to turn ds she went, No cliaiire to turn iicv. 1 t 1 i 'BH 1 HI iili 1 '1 few iii'Vi lliis ^1 m ■ •(|i|,i Jllilf Ira us 9h ' 1 flJK 1 1 W'l fwiii WM 'Mm i ifm iVW Ragfgylogr And prunge went the fox close behind. But it was too much for Reynard on such a night. He turned back, and Molly, seeing only one course, struggled through the reeds into the deep water and struck out for the other shore. But there was a strong headwind. The little waves, icy cold, broke over her head as she swam, and the water was full of snow that blocked her way like soft ice, or floating mud. The dark line of the other shore seemed far, far away, with perhaps the fox waiting for her there. But she laid her ears flat to be out of the gale, and bravely put forth all her strength with wind and tide against her. After a long, weary swim in the cold water, she had nearly reached the farther reeds when a great mass of floating snow barred her road ; then the wind on the bank made strange, fox-like sounds that robbed her of all force, and she was drifted far back- ward before she could get free from the floating bar. Again she struck out, but slowly— oh so slowly now. And when at last she reached the lee of the tall reeds, her limbs were numbed, her strength spent, her brave little heart was 141 ll^Ji u ^ ll\ Ragfgfyltigf sinking, and she cared no more whether the fox were there or not. Through the reeds she did indeed pass, but once in the weeds her course wavered and slowed, her feeble strokes no longer sent her landward, the ice forming around her stopped her altogether. In a little while the cold, weak limbs ceased to move, the furry nose- tip of the little mother Cottontail wobbled no more, and the soft brown eyes were closed in death. ii • But there was no fox waiting to tear her with ravenous jaws. Rag had escaped the first onset of the^foe, and as soon as he regained his wits he came running back to change-off and so help his mother. He met the old fox going round the pond to meet Molly and led him far and away, then dismissed him with a barbed-wire gash on his head, and came to the bank and sought about and trailed and thumped, but all his searching was in vain; he could not find his little mother. He never saw her again, and he never knew whither she went, for she slept her never-waking sleep in the ice-arms of her friend the Water that tells no tales. 142 Poor little Molly Cottontail ! She was a true heroine, yet only one of unnumbered millions that without a thought of heroism have lived and done their best in their little world, and died. She fought a good fight in the battle of life. She was good stuff; the stuff that never dies. For flesh of her flesh and brain of her brain was Rag. She lives in him, and through him transmits a finer fibre to her race. And Rag still lives in the Swamp. Old Olifant died that winter, and the unthrifty sons ceased to clear the Swamp or mend the wire fences. Within a single year it was a wilder place than ever ; fresh trees and brambles grew, and falling wires made many Cottontail castles and last re- treats that dogs and foxes dared not storm. And there to this day lives Rag. He is a big strong buck now and fears no rivals. He has a large family of his own, and a pretty brown wife that he got I know not where. There, no doubt, he and his children's children will flour- ish for many years to come, and there you may see them any sunny evening if you have learnt their signal code, and choosing a good spot on the ground, know just how and when to thump it. 143 fv^ ,.%*> Bingo The Story of My Dog :» H BI W W B H Bingo "'Iffe ifranchelsn'a ^ogge Uapeb over a etsle, »n6 tCB Bclept b(m iBttel JSlngo, Hn6 BCB Bclept b(m Iiettel 3B(ngo. »e rranchelgn'a wgfe brewefe nuttc«brown a^Ie, Hn^ be gclept Btte rare goo^e SMngo, Knti be yclept igtte rare goo&e Stingo. How 29 not tbie a prett/i_- Fraiik lelreated each time the wolf turned. t t ■ H 1 ^ I [;l| iw i b !fl 1 '" ill B^HBEi ' i m HM : 1 i If II,' ■ Bingfo it was now easy for me to step up and end the fight by putting a ball through the wolfs head. Then, when this dog of marvellous wind saw that his foe was dead, he gave him no sec- ond glance, but set out at a lope for a farm four miles across the snow where he had left his master when first the wolf was started. He was a wonderful dog, and even if I had not come he undoubtedly would have killed the wolf alone, as I learned he had already done with others of the kind, in spite of the fact that the wolf, though of the smaller or prairie race, was much larger than himself. I was filled with admiration for the dog's prowess and at once sought to buy him at any price. The scornful reply of his owner was, " Why don't you try to buy one of the chil- dren?" Since Frank was not in the market I was obliged to content myself with the next best thing, one of his alleged progeny. That is, a son of his wife. This probable offspring of an illus- trious sire was a roly-poly ball of black fur that looked more like a long-tailed bear-cub than a puppy. But he had some tan markings like iSi 1^, B!ngfo those on Frank's coat, that were, I hoped, guar- antees of future greatness, and also a very char- acteristic ring of white that he always wore on his muzzle. Having got possession of his person, the next thing was to find him a name. Surely this puzzle was already solved. The rhyme of the ' Franckelyn's dogge ' was inbuilt with the foun- dation of our acquaintance, so with adequate pomp we ' yclept him little Bingo.' i«'V I lltunttrttm* « II The rest of that winter Bingo SDent in our shanty, living the life of a lubberly, fat, welj- meaning, ill-doing puppy; gorging himself with food and growing bigger and climisier each day Even sad experience failed to teach him that he must keep his nose out of the rat-trap. His most friendly overtures to the cat were wholly mis- understood and resulted only in an armed neu- . J^''f%/ trahtythat, varied by occasional reigns of terror, -"^ ^^ 5t continued to the end j which came when Bingo •^ who early showed a mind of his own, got a 15a f/^ 7&...''?= Si^> 1 , i m '' Bingfo notion for sleeping at the barn and avoiding the shanty altogether. When the spring came I set about his serious education. After much pains on my behalf and many pains on his, he learned to go at the word in quest of our old yellow cow, that pastured at will on the unfenced prairie. Once he had learned his business, he became very fond of it and nothing pleased him more than an order to go and fetch the cow. Away he would dash, barking with pleasure and leap- ing high in the air that he might better scan the plain for his victim. In a short time he would return driving her at full gallop before him, and gave her no peace until, puffing and blowing, she was safely driven into the farthest corner of her •table. ^jkss energy on his part would have been mow^tisfactory, but we bore with him until he gi^ so fond of this semi -daily hunt that he begaa to bring ' old Dunne ' without being told. And at length not once or twice but a dozen times a day this energetic cowherd would sally forth on his own responsibility and drive the cow home to the stable. >S3 i'll Ji i- 'ii mm '/ t* ^\ Bfngfo At last things came to such a pass that when- ever he felt like taking a little exercise, or had a few minutes of spare time, or even happened to think of it. Bingo would sally forth at racing speed over the plain and a few minutes later return, driving the unhappy yellow cow at full gallop before him. At first this did not seem very bad, as it kept the cow from straying too far ; but soon it was seen that it hindered her feeding. She became thin and gave less milk; it seemed to weigh on her mind too, as she was always watching ner- vously for that hateful dog, and in the mornings would hang around the stable as though afraid to venture off and subject herself at once to an onset. This was going too far. All attempts t;o n;ake Bingo more moderate in his pleasure were failures, so he was compelled to give it ^al- together. After this, though he dared npt bring her home, he continued to show his interest by lying at her stable door while she was beine milked. ^ As the summer came on the mosquitoes be- came a dreadful plague, and the consequent 154 "N i! C U-. it Bingo vicious switching of Dunne's tail at milking- time even more annoying than the mosquitoes. Fred, the brother who did the milking, was of an inventive as well as an impatient turn of mind, and he devised a simple plan to stop the switching. He fastened a brick to the cow's tail, then set blithely about his work assured of unusual comfort while the rest of us looked on in doubt. Suddenly through the mist of mosquitoes came a dull whack and an outburst of ' lan- guage.' The cow went on placidly chewing till Fred got on his feet and furiously attacked her with the milking-stool. It was bad enough to be whacked on the ear with a brick by a stupid old cow, but the uproarious enjoyment and ridi- cule of the bystanders made it unendurable. Bingo, hearing the uproar, and divining that he was needed, rushed in and attacked Dunne on the other side. Before the affair quieted down the milk was spilt, the pail and stool were broken, and the cow and the dog severely beaten. Poor Bingo could not understand it at all. He had long ago learned to despise that cow, 155 X ^^ ( . /( (. Bing;o and now in utter disgust he decided to for- sake even her stable door, and from that time he attached himself exclusively to the horses and their stable. The cattle were mine, the horses were my brother's, and in transferring his allegiance from the cow-stable to the horee-stable Bingo seemed to give me up too, and anything like daily companionship ceased, and, yet, whenever any emergency arose Bingo turned to me and I to him, and both seemed to feel that the bond be- tween man and dog is one that lasts as long as life. , ^ The only other occasion on which Bingo acted as cowherd was in the autumn of the same year at the annual Carberry Fair. Among the dazzling inducements to enter one's stock there was, in addition to a prospect of glory a cash prize of 'two dollars,' for the ' best col- lie in training.' Misled by a false friend, I entered Bingo and early on the day fixed, the cow was driven to the prairie just outside of the village. When the time came she was pointed out to Bingo and the word given— 'Go fetch the cow.' It 156 led to for- that time the horses were my iance from go seemed like daily never any ; and I to bond be- is long as ch Bingo m of the Among e's stock f glory, a best col- i Bingo, IS driven When o Bingo ow.' It was the intention, of course, that he should bring her to me at the judge's stand. But the animals knew better. They hadn't rehearsed all summer for nothing. When Dunne saw Bingo's careering form she knew that her only hope for safety was to get into her stable, and Bingo was equally sure that his sole mission in life was to quicken her pace in that direction. So off they raced over the prairie, like a wolf after a deer, and heading straight toward their home two miles away, they disappeared from view. That was the last that judge or jury ever saw of dog or cow. The prize was awarded to the only other entry. Ill Bingo's loyalty to the horses was quite re- markable; by day he trotted beside them, and by night he slept at the stable door. Where the team went Bingo went, and nothing kept him away from them. This interesting assumption of ownership lent the greater significance to the following circumstance. 157 ill ? ' li:'U,' I Bingo in.-'i M I. I ^ ' 41 I If; li'Uf I was not superstitious, and up to this time had had no faith in omens, but was now deep- ly impressed by a strange occurrence in which Bingo took a leading part. There were but two of us now living on the De Winton Farm. One morning my brother set out for Boggy Creek for a load of hay. It was a long day's journey there and back, and he made an early start. Strange to tell, Bingo for once in his hfe did not follow the team. My brother called to him, but still he stood at a safe distance, and eying the team askance, refused to stir. Sud- denly he raised his nose in the air and gave vent to a long, melancholy howl. He watched the wagon out of sight, and even followed for a hundred yards or so, raising his voice from time to time in the most doleful howlings. All that day he stayed about the barn, the only time that he was willingly separated from the horses, and at intervals howled a very death dirge. I was alone, and the dog's behavior inspired me with an awful foreboding of calamity, that weighed upon me more and more as the hours passed away. About six o'clock Bingo's howlings became 158 11: Bfngfo unbearable, so that for lack of a better thought I threw something at him, and ordered him away. But oh, the feeling of horror that filled me ! Why did I let my brother go away alone ? Should I ever again see him alive ? I might have known from the dog's actions that some- thing dreadful was about to happen. At length the hour for his return arrived, and there was John on his load. I took charge ot the horses, vastly relieved, and with an air of as- sumed unconcern, asked, "All right? " "Right," was the laconic answer. Who now can say that there is nothing in omens ? , VI And yet, when long afterward, I told this to one skilled in the occult, he looked grave, and said, " Bingo always turned to you in a crisis ? " "Yes." " Then do not smile. It was you that were in danger that day ; he stayed and saved your life, though you never knew from what." '59 ! I ' Bing^o IV m\ «! !' Early in the spring I had begun Bingo's education. Very shortly afterward he began mine. Midway on the two-mile stretch of prairie that lay between our shanty and the village of Car berry, was the corner -stake of the farm; it was a stout post in a low mound of earth, and was visible from afar. I soon noticed that Bingo never passed with- out ^ninutely examining this mysterious post. Next I learned that it was also visited by the prairie wolves ?'.3 well as by all the dogs in the neighborhood, and at length, with the aid of a telescope, I made a number of observations that helped me to an understanding of the matter and enabled me to enter more fully into Bingo's private life. The post was by common agreement a regis- try of the canine tribes. Their exquisite sense of smell enabled each individual to tell at once by the track and trace what other had recently been at the post. When the snow came much 160 f»i Bingfo more was revealed. I then discovered that this post was but one of a system that covered the country; thatinshort, the entire region was laid out in signal stations at convenient inter- V. Is These were marked by any conspicuous post, stone buffalo skull, or other object h chanced to be in the desired locality, and ex- tensive observation showed that it was a very complete system for getting and giving the Each dog or wolf makes a point of calling at those stations thac are near his line of travel to learn who has recently been there, just as a man calls at his club on returning to town and looks up the register. I have seen Bingo approach the post, sniff, examine the ground about, then growl, and wi h bnstluig mane and glowing eyes, scratch hercely and contemptuously with his hind feet, finally walking off very stiffly, glancing back n.m time. time. All of which, bein/ inter- ''Grn-h! woof I there's that dirty cur of Jf cCarthy's. Woof! I'll 'tend to him to-night Woof! woof I- On another occasion, after i6i Bingfo the preliminaries, he became keenly interested and studied a coyote's track that came and went, saying to himself, as I afterward learned : "A coyote track coming from the north, smelling of dead cow. Indeed? PoUworth's old Brindle must be dead at last. This is worth looking into." At other times he would wag his tail, trot about the vicinity and come again and again to make his own visit more evident, perhaps for the benefit of his brother Bill just back from Brandon ! So that it was not by chance that one night Bill turned up at Bingo's home and was taken to the hills where a delicious dead horse afforded a chance to suitably celebrate the reunion. At other times he would be suddenly aroused by the news, take up the trail, and race to the next station for later information. Sometimes his inspection produced only an air of grave attention, as though he said to him- self, " Dear me, who the deuce is this?" or ** It seems to me I met that fellow at the Por- tage last summer." One morning on approaching the post Bin- 162 Bfngfo go's every hair stood on end, his tail dropped and quivered, and he gave proof that he was suddenly sick at the stomach, sure signs of terror. He showed no desire to follow up or know more of the matter, but returned to the house, and half an hour afterward his mane was still bristling and his expression one of hate or fear. I studied the dreaded track and learned that in Bingo's language the half-terrified, deep- gurgled 'grrr-wff' means ' timber wolf .* These were among the things that Bingo taught me. And in the after time when I might chance to see him arouse from his frosty nest by the stable door, and after stretching himself and shaking the snow from his shaggy coat, disappear into the gloom at a steady trot trot, trot, I used to think : "Aha! old dog, I know where you are off to, and why you eschew the shelter of the shanty. Now I know why your nightly trips over the country are so well timed, and how you know just where to go for what you want, and when and how to seek it." 163 T" ff 'ii 1' Bingfo if i'i '^\ ' Mr i In the autumn of 1884, the shanty at De Winton farm was closed and Bingo changed his home to the establishment, that is, to the stable, not the house, of Gordon Wright, our most intimate neighbor. Since the winter of his puppyhood he had declined to enter a house at any time excepting during a thunder-storm. Of thunder and guns he had a deep dread — no doubt the fear of the first originated in the second, and that arose from some unpleasant shot-gun experiences, the cause of which will be seen. His nightly couch was outside the stable, even during the coldest weather, and it was easy to see that he enjoyed to the full the complete nocturnal liberty entailed. Bingo's midnight wanderings ex- tended across the plains for miles. There was plenty of proof of this. Some farmers at very remote points sent word to old Gordon that if he did not keep his dog home nights, they would use the shotgun, and Bingo's terror of firearms would indicate that the threat;, were >«4 Bmgfo not idle. A man living as far away as Petrel, said he saw a large black wolf kill a coyote on the snow one winter evening, but afterward he changed his opinion and ' reckoned it must 'a' been Wright's dog.' Whenever the body of a winter-killed ox or horse was exposed, Bingo was sure to repair to it nightly, and driving away the prairie wolves, feast to repletion. Sometimes the object of a night foray was merely to maul some distant neighbor's dog, and notwithstanding vengeful threats, there seemed no reason to fear that the Bingo breed would die out. One man even avowed that he had seen a prairie wolf accompanied by three young ones which resembled the mother, ex- cepting that they were very large and black and had a ring of white around the muzzle. True or not as that may be, I know that late in March, while we were out in the sleigh with Bingo trotting behind, a prairie wolf was started from a hollow. Away it went with Bingo in full chase, but the wolf did not greatly exert itself to escape, and within a short dis- tance Bingo was close up, yet strange to tell, there was no grappling, no fight I 165 >C^/^' **«L iT^ "•:'"■ *'''^T 5fc! ■ i "\> '. I 'l ' J ' I it! Bingo Bingo trotted amiably alongside and licked the wolf's nose. We were astounded, and shouted to urge Bingo on. Our shouting and approach several times started the wolf off at speed and Bingo again pursued until he had overtaken it, but his gentleness was too obvious. " It is a she-wolf, he won't harm her," I exclaimed as the truth dawned on me. And Gordon said : " Well, I be darned." So we called our unwilling dog and drove on For weeks after this we were annoyed by the depredations of a prairie wolf who killed our chickens, stole pieces of pork from the end of the house, and several times terrified the children by looking into the window of the shanty while the men were away. Against this animal Bingo seemed to be no safeguard. At length the wolf, a female, was killed, and then Bingo plainly showed his hand by his lasting enmity toward Oliver, the man who did the deed. ! i ! i66 i ^ and licked ited to urge "oach several d and Bingo iken it, but irm her," I 1 me. And id drove on, annoyed by who killed oni the end errified the dow of the -d to be no female, was id his hand r, the man t'n. / " 'W'A'^ Bingo and the she-wolf. m ''' W' h rnt t V m \Mnl ,v I 1. Vi Bingo VI It is wonderful and beautiful how a man and his dog will stick to one another, through thick and thin. Butler tells of an undivided Indian tribe, in the Far North which was all but ex- terminated by an internecine feud over a dog that belonged to one man and was killed by his neighbor; and among ourselves we have lawsuits, fights, and deadly feuds, all pointing the same old moral, < Love me, love my dog.' One of our neighbors had a very fine hound that he thought the best and dearest dog in the world. I loved him, so I loved his dog, and when one day poor Tan crawled home terribly mangled and died by the door, I joined my threats of vengeance with those of his master and thenceforth lost no opportunity of tracing the miscreant, both by offering rewards and by collecting scraps of evidence. At length it was clear that one of three men to the south- ward had had a hand in the cruel affair. The scent was warming up, and soon we should have been in a position to exact rigorous justice x6g i;i ,i: ^L N ^ v r V ' .! :fcS!l Bingfo at least, from the wretch who had murdered poor old Tan. Then something took place which at once changed my mind and led me to believe that the mangling of the old hound was not by any means an unpardonable crime, but indeed on second thoughts was rather commendable than otherwise. Gordon Wright's farm lay to the south of us, and while there one day, Gordon, Jr., knowing that I was tracking the murderer, took me aside and looking about furtively, he whispered, in tragic tones : " It was Bing done it." And the matter dropped right there. For I confess that from that moment I did all in my power to bafHc the justice I had previously striven so hard to further. I had given Bingo away long before, but the feeling of ownership did not die ; and of this in- dissoluble fellowship of dog and man he was soon to take part in another important illus- tration. Old Gordon and Oliver were close neigh- bors and friends ; they joined in a contract to 170 Jt 1' ;|l it 10 ^1 vj m:^' 1 ii '' .■.»i'l\d, ' lurdered poor hich at once ) believe that s not by any ut indeed on lendable than e south of us, Jr., knowing er, took me le whispered, :here. For I id all in my i previously jfore, but the ind of this in- man he was )ortant illus- close ne»gh- contract to T'srasKarsirsr; I ■ .1 !■( -in I fii m'' si' ill II Iff it ^ U^'l Bingo vvatclied whil^ Curley feasted. Bfngfo cut wood, and worked together harmoniously till late on in winter. Then Oliver's old horse died, and he, determining to profit as far as possible, dragged it out on the plain and laid poison baits for wolves around it. Alas, for poor Bingo! He would lead a wolfish life, though again and again it brought him into wolfish misfortunes. He was as fond of dead horse as any of his wild kindred. That very night, with Wright's own dog Curley, he tisited the carcass. It seemed as though Bing had busied himself chiefly keeping off the wolves, but Curley feasted immoderately. The tracks in the snow told the story of the banquet ; the interruption as the poison began to work, and of the dreadful spasms of pain during the erratic course back home where Curley, falling in convulsions at Gordon's feet, died in the greatest agony. * Love me, love my dog,' no explanations or apology were acceptable ; it was useless to urge that it was accidental, the long-standing feud between Bingo and Oliver was now remem- bered as an important side-light. The wood- contract was thrown up, all friendly relations 173 . J ij ,» ? V '"•''^ li' '!'!■« Bingo ceased, and to this day there is no county big enough to hold the rival factions which weie called at once into existence and to arms by Curley's dying yell. It was months before Bingo really recovered from the poison. We believed indeed that he never again would be the sturdy old-time Bingo. But when the spring came he began to gain strength, and bettering as the grass grew, he was within a few weeks once more in full health and vigor to be a pride to his friends and a nuisanc*^ to his neighbors. VII Changes took me far away from Manitoba, and on my return in i886 Bingo was still a member of Wright's household. I thought he would have forgotten me after two years ab- sence, but not :,o. One day early in the winter, after having been lost for forty-eight hours, he crawl?>d home to Wright's with a wolf-trap and a heavy log fast to one foot, and the foot frozen to stony hardness. No one had been able to approach to help him, he was so savage, when I, 174 *»- k^im-y**^-^ si Blngfo the stranger now, stooped down and laid hold of the trap with one hand and his leg with the other. Instantly he seized my wrist in his teeth. Without stirring I said, " Bing, don't you know me?" He had not broken the skin and at once re- leased his hold and offered no further resistance, although he whined a good deal during the re- moval of the trap. He still acknowledged me his master in spite of his change of residence and my long absence, and notwithstanding my surrender of ownership I still felt that he was my dog. Bing was carried into the house much against his will and his frozen foot thawed out. Dur- ing the rest of the winter he went lame and two of his toes eventually dropped off. But before the return of warm weather his health and strength were fully restored, and to a casual glance he bore no mark of his dreadful experi- ence in the steel trap. clA^ ^^ u 'i II V: if'' Bln^o viir During that same winter I caught many wolves and foxes who did not have Bingo's good luck in escaping the traps, which I kept out right into the spring, for bounties are good even when fur is not. Kennedy's Plain was always a good trapping ground because it was unfrequented by man and yet lay between the heavy woods and the set- tlement. I had been fortunate with the fur here, and late in April rode in on one of my regular rounds. The wolf-traps are made of heavy steel and have two springs, each of one hundred pounds power. They are set in fours around a buried bait, and after being strongly fastened to con- cealed logs are carefully covered in cotton and in fine sand so as to be quite invisible. A prairie wolf was caught in one of these. I killed him with a club and throwing him aside proceeded to reset the trap as I had done so many hundred times before. All was quickly done. I threw the trap-wrench over toward the 176 ny wolves food luck out right ven when trapping man and the set- the fur e of ray teel and pounds a buried to con- ton and lese. I m aside ione so quickly ^ard the Bingfo pony, and seeing some fine sand near by, I reached out for a handful of it to add a good finish to the setting. Oh, unlucky thought ! Oh, mad heedless- ness born of long immunity ! That fine sand was on the next wolf-trap and in an instant I was a prisoner. Although not wounded, for the traps have no teeth, and my thick trapping gloves deadened the snap, I was firmly caught across the hand above the knuckles. Not greatly alarmed at this, I tried to reach the trap-wrench with my right foot. Stretching out at full length, face downward, I worked myself toward it, making my imprisoned arm as long and straight as possible. I could not see and reach at the same time, but counted on my toe telling me when I touched the little iron key to my fetters. My first effort was a failure ; strain as I might at the chain my toe struck no metal. I swung slowly around my anchor, but still failed. Then a painfully taken observation showed I was much too far to the west. I set about working around, tapping blindly with my toe to discover the key. Thus wildly groping with my right foot I forgot 177 f I i i i\ t I.- * I, .i I ■ '^ i Ml J 1 'j ■ m Bmgfo about the other till there was a sharp * clank* and the iron jaws of trap No. 3 closed tight on my left foot. The terrors of the situation did not, at first, impress me, but I soon found that all my struggles were in vain. I could not get free from either trap or move the traps together, and there I lay stretched out and firmly staked to the ground. What would become of me now ? There was not much danger of freezing for the cold weather was over, but Kennedy's Plain was never visited excepting by the winter wood-cutters. No one knew where I had gone, and unless I could man- age to free myself there was no prospect ahead but to be devoured by wolves, or else die of cold and starvation. As I lay there the red sun went down over the spruce swamp west of the plain, and a shorelark on a gopher mound a few yards off twittered his evening song, just as one had done the night be- fore at our shanty door, and though the numb pains were creeping up my arm, and a deadly chill possessed me, I noticed how long his little ear- tufts were. Then my thoughts went to the com- »78 Bingfo fortable supper-table at Wright's shanty, and I thought, now they are frying the pork for sup- per, or just sitting down. My pony still stood as I left him with his bridle on the ground patiently waiting to take me home. He did not understand the long delay, and when I called, he ceased nibbling the grass and looked at me in dumb, helpless inquiry. If he would only go home the empty saddle might tell the tale and bring help. But his very faithfulness kept him waiting hour after hour while I was perishing of cold and hunger. Then I remembered how old Girou the trap- per had been lost, and in the following spring his comrades found his skeleton held by the leg in a bear-trap. I wondered which part of my clothing would show my identity. Then a new thought came lo me. This is how a wolf feels when he is trapped. Oh! what misery have I been responsible for I Now I'm to pay for it. Night came slowly on. A prairie wolf howled, the pony pricked up his ears and walking nearer to me, stood with his head down. Then another prairie wolf howled and another, and I could make out that they were gathering in the neigh- 179 //L I I'm ,1 ( '■) ( 'R il I F lil>i mm Bfngo borhpod. There I lay prone and helpless, won- dering if it would not be strictly just that they should come and tear me to pieces. I heard them calling for a long time before 1 realized that dim, shadowy forms were sneaking near. The horse saw them first, and his terrified snort drove them back at first, but they came nearer next time and sat around me on the prairie. Soon one bolder than the others crawled up and tugged at the body of his dead relative. I shouted and he retreated growling. The pony ran to a distance in terror. Presently the wolf returned, and after two or three of these retreats and returns, the body was dragged off and devoured by the rest in a few minutes. After this they gathered nearer and sat on their haunches to look at me, and the boldest one smelt the rifle and scratched dirt on it. He '.etreated when I kicked at him with my free foot and shouted, but growing bolder as I grew weaker he came and snarled rig^t in my face. At this several others snarled and came up closer, and I realized that I was to be de- voured by the foe that I most despised, when suddenly out of the gloom with a guttural roar x8o i r Bmgfo sprang a great black wolf. The prairie wolves scattered like chaff except the bold one, which seized by the black new-comer was in a few moments a draggled corpse, and then, oh hor- rors ! this mighty brute bounded at me and— Bingo— noble Bingo, rubbed his shaggy, pant- ing sides against me and licked my cold face. ''Bingo— Bing— old— boy — Fetch me the trap-wrench ! " Away he went and returned dragging the rifle, for he knew only that I wanted some- thing. ' ' No— Bing— the trap-wrench. ' ' This time it was my sash, but at last he brought the wrench and wagged his tail in joy that it was right. Reaching out with my free hand, after much difficulty I unscrewed the pillar-nut. The trap fell apart and my hand was re- leased, and a minute later I was free. Bing brought the pony up, and after slowly walk- ing to restore the circulation I was able to mount. Then slowly at first but soon at a gallop, with Bingo as herald careering and bark- ing ahead, we set out for home, there to learii that the night before, though never taken i8i i IQ jx.(iiiij 1 ! 1 i j '■-■ ' i i - Bingfo • on the trapping rounds, the brave dog had acted strangely, whimpering and watching the lim- ber-trail ; and at last when night came on, in spite of attempts to detain him he had set out in the gloom and guided by a knowledge that is beyond us had reached the spot in time to avenge me as well as set me free. Stanch old Bing — he was a strange dog. Though his heart was with me, he passed me next day with scarcely a look, but responded with alacrity when little Gordon called him to a gopher-hunt. And it was so to the end; and to the end also he lived the wolfish life that he loved, and never failed to seek the win- ter-killed horses and found one again with a poisoned bait, and wolf sliiy bolted that ; then feeling the pang, set out, not for Wright's but to find me, and reached the door of my shanty where I should have been. Next day on re- turning I found him dead in the snow with his head on the sill of the door— the door of his puppyhood's days ; my dog to the last in his heart of hearts — it was my help he sought, and vainly sought, in the hour of his bitter ex- tremity. '14 mm :i •rar fj/ff in 1 1 i W.ii tl The Springfield Fox i i V: I « Jll-i (I ^ ' b ill ? n :fi. . I': %. % v^*'.^"^^ .^J€^^%. \ v^ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 7 ^ // ^/ ^^ /^t^ / < ^ /a 1.0 ^1^ lii I.I 2.5 21 2.0 m 1.25 1.4 J4 -< 6" - ► V] vQ d? <^ c^^ /a /A Photographic Sciences Corporation 33 WEST MAIN STREET WiaSTBR, NY. l4StO (716) •7a-4S03 €^ mW I „; l' nr?! «« fill' e?^j'^g«a<=a»B».CTT:ntrata The Springfield Fox HE hens had been mysteriously disap- pearing for over a month ; and when I came home to Springfield for the summer holidays it was my duty to find the cause. This was soon done. The fowls were carried away bodily one at a time, before going to roost or else after leaving, which put tramps and neighbors out of court ; they were not taken from the high perches, which cleared all coons and owls ; or left partly eaten, so that weasels, skunks, or minks were not the guilty ones, and the blame, therefore, was surely left at Rey- nard's door. The great pine wood of Erindale was on the other bank of the river, and on looking care- i«7 '^ 1 «' \ li I J The Sprmgffield Fox IHiK m ^^wl ^11 ^^^HH^U i M ^^HmH ii.|f ^^■i^Hi folly about the lower ford I saw a few fox-tracks and a barred feather from one of our Plymouth Rock chickens. On climbing the farther bank in search of more clews, I heard a great outcry of crows behind me, and turning, saw a number of these birds darting down at something in the ford. A better view showed that it was the old story, thief catch thief, for there in the middle of the ford was a fox with something in his jaws — he was returning fro our barnyard with another hen. The crows, though shameless rob- bers themselves, are ever first to cry ' Stop thief,*' and yet more than ready to take 'hush- money ''in the form of a share in the plundeir. And this was their game now. The fox to get back home must cross the river, where he was exposed to the full brunt of the crow mob. He made a dash for it, and would doubtless have gotten across with his booty had I not joined in the attack, whereupon he dropped the hen, scarce dead, and disappeared in the woods. This large and regular levy of provisions wholly carried off could mean but one thing, a family of little foxes at home ; and to find them I now w^ bound. i88 The SptingiitLi Fox That evening I went with Ranger, my hound, across the river into the Erindale woods. As soon as the hound began to circle, we heard the short, sharp bark of a fox from a thickly wooded ravine close by. Ranger dashed in at once, struck a hot scent and went off on a lively straight-away till his voice was lost in the dis- tance away over the upland. After nearly an hour he came back, panting and warm, for it was baking August weather, and lay down at my feet. But almost immediately the same foxy ' Vqp yurrr' was heard close at hand and off dashed the dog on another chase. Away he went in the ^^-^rkness, baying like a foghorn, straight away io the north. And the loud ' Bo0, boo, ' became a low ' oo, oo,' and that a feeble *o-o' and then was lost. They n ast have gone some miles away, for even with ear to the ground I heard nothing of them though a mile was easy distance for Ranger's brazen voice. As I waited in the black woods I heard a sweet sound of dripping water : * Tink tank tenk tink, Ta tink tank tenk tonk: ■89 The Springfield Fox I did not know of any spring so near, and in the hot night it was a glad find. But the sound led me to the bough of an oak-tree, where I found its source. Such a soft sweet song ; full of delightful suggestion on such a night : Tonk tank tenk tink Ta tink a tonk a tank a tink a Ta ta tink tank ta ta tonk tink Drink a tank a drink a drunk. It was the * water-dripping ' song of the saw-whet owl. But suddenly a deep raucous breathing and a rustle of leaves showed that Ranger was back. He was completely fagged out. His tongue hung almost to the ground and was dripping with foam, his flanks were heaving and spume-flecks dribbled from his breast and sides. He stopped panting a moment to give my hand a dutiful lick, then flung himself flop on the leaves to drown all other sounds with his noisy panting. But again that tantalizing 'Yap yurrr* was heard a few feet away, and the meaning of it all dawned on me. We were close to the den where the little 190 M The Sprfngficld Fox foxes were, and the old ones were taking turns in trying to lead us away. It was late night now, so we went home feel- ing sure that the problem was nearly solved. II It was well known that there was an old fox with his family living in the neighborhood, but no one supposed them so near. This fox had been called 'Scarface,' be- cause of a scar reaching from his eye through and back of his ear ; this was supposed to have been given him by a barbed-wire fence during a rabbit hunt, and as the hair came in white after it healed, it was always a strong mark. The winter before I had met with nim and had had a sample of his craftiness. I was out shoot- ing, after a fall of snow, and had crossed the open fields to the edge of the brushy hollow back of the old mill. As my head rose to a view of the hollow I caught sight of a fox trotting at long range down the other side, in line to cross my course. Instantly I held mo- tionless, and did not even lower or turn my 191 ^'--"^^:#' m pf The SpAngiieLd Fox head lest I should catch his eye by moving until he went on out of sight in the thick cover at the bottom. As soon as he was hidden I bobbed down and ran to head him off where he should leave the cover on the other side, and was there in good time awaiting, but no fox came forth. A careful look showed the fresh track of a fox that had bounded from the cover, and following it with my eye I saw old Scar- face himself far out of range behind me, sitting on his haunches and grinning as though much amused. A study of the trail made all clear. He had seen me at the moment I saw him, but he, also like a true hunter, had concealed the fact, put- ting on an air of unconcern till out of sight, when he had run for his life around behind me and amused himself by watching my stillborn trick. In the springtime I had yet another instance of Scarface's cunning. I was walking with a friend along the road over the high pasture. We passed within thirty feet of a ridge on which were several gray and brown bowlders. When at the nearest point my friend said : I9» \ Vj Tte SprfngfleM Fox " Stone number three looks to me very much like a fox curled up. ' ' But I could not see it, and we passed. We had not gone many yards farther when the wind blew on this bowlder as on fur. My friend said, "I am sure that is a fox, lying asleep." "We'll soon settle that," I replied, and turned back, but as soon as I had taken one step from the road, up jumped Scarface, for it was he, and ran. A fire had swept the middle of the pasture, leaving a broad belt of black ; over this he skurried till became to the unburnt yellow grass again, where he squatted down and was lost to view. He had been watching us all the time, and would not have moved had we kept to the road. The wonderful part of this is, not that he resembled the round stones and dry grass, but that he knew he did, and was ready to profit by it. We soon found that it was Scarface and his wife Vixen that had made our woods their home and our barnyard their base of supplies. Next morning a search in the pines showed a great bank of earth that had been scratched X93 The Springffield Fox up within a few months. It must have come from a hole, and yet there was none to be seen. It is well known that a really cute fox, on dig- ging a new den, brings all the earth out at the first hole made, but carries on a tunnel into some distant thicket. Then closing up for good the first made and too well-marked door, uses only the entrance hidden in the thicket. So after a little search at the other side of a knoll, I found the real entry and good proof that there was a nest of little foxes inside. Rising above the brush on the hillside was a great hollow basswood. It leaned a good deal and Had a large hole at the bottom, and a smaller one at top. We boys had often used this tree in playing Swiss Family Robinson, and by cutting steps in its soft punky walls had made it easy to go up and down in the hollow. Now it came in handy, for next day when the sun was warm I went there to watch, and from this perch on the roof, I soon saw the interesting family that lived in the cellar near by. There were four li ttle foxes ; they looked curiously like little lambs, with their woolly coats, their long thick legs and in- 194 have come ! to be seen.^ fox, on dig- li out at the tunnel into up for good 1 door, uses :ket. er side of a good proof nside. llside was a a good deal id a smaller J in playing itting steps isy to go up le in handy, irm I went )n the roof, lat lived in little foxes; imbs, with egs and in- i 1 1* I I .-.^VlJW- f.-^l>«vl.S I « .' •! IV Kl 1 •a rJ c o c o TJ