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smell of Calf were like a snake trail across the trail of a whole Beef herd。
It was so slight that the Cub； with the appetite and impatience of youth；
pressed up against his mother's shoulder to go past and eat without delay。
She seized him by the neck and flung him back。 A stone struck by his feet
rolled forward and stopped with a peculiar clink。 The danger smell was
greatly increased at this； and the Yellow Wolf backed slowly from the feast；
the Cub unwillingly following。
As he looked wistfully he saw the Coyotes drawing nearer； mindful
chiefly to avoid the Wolves。 He watched their really cautious advance； it
seemed like heedless rushing compared with his mother's approach。 The
Calf smell rolled forth in exquisite and overpowering excellence now； for
they were tearing the meat； when a sharp clank was heard and a yelp from
a Coyote。 At the same time the quiet night was shocked with a roar and a
flash of fire。 Heavy shots spattered Calf and Coyotes； and yelping like
beaten Dogs they scattered； excepting one that was killed and a second
struggling in the trap set here by the ever…active wolvers。 The air was
charged with the hateful smells redoubled now； and horrid smells
additional。 The Yellow Wolf glided down a hollow and led her Cub away
in flight； but； as they went； they saw a man rush from the bank near where
the mother's nose had warned her of the human scent。 They saw him kill
the caught Coyote and set the traps for more。
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VI
THE BEGUILING OF THE YELLOW WOLF
The life game is a hard game； for we may win ten thousand times； and
if we fail but once our gain is gone。 How many hundred times had the
Yellow Wolf scorned the traps； how many Cubs she had trained to do the
same！ Of all the dangers to her life she best knew traps。
October had come； the Cub was now much taller than the mother。 The
wolver had seen them oncea Yellow Wolf followed by another； whose
long； awkward legs； big； soft feet； thin neck； and skimpy tail proclaimed
him this year's Cub。 The record of the dust and sand said that the old one
had lost a right front toe； and that the young one was of giant size。
It was the wolver that thought to turn the carcass of the Calf to profit；
but he was disappointed in getting Coyotes instead of Wolves。 It was the
beginning of the trapping season； for this month fur is prime。 A young
trapper often fastens the bait on the trap； an experienced one does not。 A
good trapper will even put the bait at one place and the trap ten or twenty
feet away； but at a spot that the Wolf is likely to cross in circling。 A
favorite plan is to hide three or four traps around an open place； and
scatter some scraps of meat in the middle。 The traps are buried out of sight
after being smoked to hide the taint of hands and iron。 Sometimes no bait
is used except a little piece of cotton or a tuft of feathers that may catch
the Wolf's eye or pique its curiosity and tempt it to circle on the fateful；
treacherous ground。 A good trapper varies his methods continually so that
the Wolves cannot learn his ways。 Their only safeguards are perpetual
vigilance and distrust of all smells that are known to be of man。
The wolver； with a load of the strongest steel traps； had begun his
autumn work on the 'Cottonwood。'
An old Buffalo trail crossing the river followed a little draw that
climbed the hills to the level upland。 All animals use these trails； Wolves
and Foxes as well as Cattle and Deer： they are the main thoroughfares。 A
cottonwood stump not far from where it plunged to the gravelly stream
was marked with Wolf signs that told the wolver of its use。 Here was an
excellent place for traps； not on the trail； for Cattle were here in numbers；
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Animal Heroes
but twenty yards away on a level； sandy spot he set four traps in a twelve…
foot square。 Near each he scattered two or three scraps of meat； three or
four white feathers on a spear of grass in the middle completed the setting。
No human eye； few animal noses； could have detected the hidden danger
of that sandy ground； when the sun and wind and the sand itself had
dissipated the man…track taint。
The Yellow Wolf had seen and passed； and taught her giant son to pass；
such traps a thousand times before。
The Cattle came to water in the heat of the day。 They strung down the
Buffalo path as once the Buffalo did。 The little Vesper…birds flitted before
them； the Cowbirds rode on them； and the Prairie…dogs chattered at them；
just as they once did at the Buffalo。
Down from the gray…green mesa with its green…gray rocks； they
marched with imposing solemnity； importance； and directness of purpose。
Some frolicsome Calves； playing along…side the trail； grew sober and
walked behind their mothers as the river flat was reached。 The old Cow
that headed the procession sniffed suspiciously as she passed the 〃trap
set；〃 but it was far away； otherwise she would have pawed and bellowed
over the scraps of bloody beef till every trap was sprung and harmless。
But she led to the river。 After all had drunk their fill they lay down on
the nearest bank till late afternoon。 Then their unheard dinner…gong
aroused them； and started them on the backward march to where the
richest pastures grew。
One or two small birds had picked at the scraps of meat； some blue…
bottle flies buzzed about； but the sinking sun saw the sandy mask
untouched。
A brown Marsh Hawk came skimming over the river flat as the sun
began his color play。 Blackbirds dashed into thickets； and easily avoided
his clumsy pounce。 It was too early for the Mice； but； as he skimmed the
ground； his keen eye caught the flutter of feathers by the trap and turned
his flight。 The feathers in their uninteresting emptiness were exposed
before he was near； but now he saw the scraps of meat。 Guileless of
cunning； he alighted and was devouring a second lump whenclankthe
dust was flirted high and the Marsh Hawk was held by his toes； struggling
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vainly in the jaws of a powerful wolf…trap。 He was not much hurt。 His
ample wings winnowed from time to time； in efforts to be free； but he was
helpless； even as a Sparrow might be in a rat…trap； and when the sun had
played his fierce chromatic scale； his swan…song sung； and died as he dies
only in the blazing west； and the shades had fallen on the melodramatic
scene of the Mouse in the elephant…trap； there was a deep； rich sound on
the high flat butte； answered by another； neither very long； neither
repeated； and both instinctive rather than necessary。 One was the muster…
call of an ordinary Wolf； the other the answer of a very big male； not a pair
in this case； but mother and son … Yellow Wolf and Duskymane。 They
came trotting together down the Buffalo trail。 They paused at the
telepho