Wild Animals I Have Known | Page 9

of rapine
to-day, but for an unfortunate alliance that proved his ruin and added
his name to the long list of heroes who, unassailable when alone, have

fallen through the indiscretionof a trusted ally.
III
Once or twice, I had found indications that every. thing was not quite
right in the Currumpaw pack. There were signs of irregularity, I
thought; for instance there was clearly the trail of a smaller wolf
running ahead of the leader, at times, and this I could not understand
until a cowboy made a remark which explained the matter.
"I saw them to-day," he said, "and the wild one that breaks away is
Blanca." Then the truth dawned upon me, and I added, "Now, I know
that Blanca is a she-wolf, because were a he-wolf to act thus, Lobo
would kill him at once."
This suggested a new plan. I killed a heifer, and set one or two rather
obvious traps about the carcass. Then cutting off the head, which is
considered useless offal, and quite beneath the notice of a wolf, I set it
a little apart and around it placed six powerful steel traps properly
deodorized and concealed with the utmost care. During my operations I
kept my hands, boots, and implements smeared with fresh blood, and
afterward sprinkled the ground with the same, as though it had flowed
from the head; and when the traps were buried in the dust I brushed the
place over with the skin of a coyote, and with a foot of the same animal
made a number of tracks over the traps. The head was so placed that
there was a narrow passage between it and some tussocks, and in this
passage I buried two of my best traps, fastening them to the head itself.
Wolves have a habit of approaching every carcass they get the wind of,
in order to examine it, even when they have no intention of eating it,
and I hoped that this habit would bring the Currumpaw pack within
reach of my latest stratagem. I did not doubt that Lobo would detect my
handiwork about the meat, and prevent the pack approaching it, but I
did build some hopes on the head, for it looked as though it had been
thrown aside as useless.
Next morning, I sallied forth to inspect the traps, and there, oh, joy!
were the tracks of the pack, and the place where the beef-head and its

traps had been was empty. A hasty study of the trail showed that Lobo
had kept the pack from approaching the meat, but one, a small wolf,
had evidently gone on to examine the head as it lay apart and had
walked right into one of the traps.
We set out on the trail, and within a mile discovered that the hapless
wolf was Blanca. Away she went, however, at a gallop, and although
encumbered by the beef-head, which weighed over fifty pounds, she
speedily distanced my companion, who was on foot. But we overtook
her when she reached the rocks, for the horns of the cow's head became
caught and held her fast. She was the handsomest wolf I had ever seen.
Her coat was in perfect condition and nearly white.
She turned to fight, and, raising her voice in the rallying cry of her race,
sent a long howl rolling over the ca¤on. From far away upon the mesa
came a deep response, the cry of Old Lobo. That was her last call, for
now we had closed in on her, and all her energy and breath were
devoted to combat.
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 exulting 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 toward the home ca¤on, for his
voice sounded continually nearer.

There was an unmistakable note of sorrow in