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"Anybody would be ashamed to shoot at a mark so large as I am. I'd say they're poor shooters." And he added irrelevantly, as he held up a grayish pelt, "I got that coyote I been chasing for two weeks. He was sure smart. He had me guessing. But I made him guess some, maybe. He guessed wrong this time." Lone's eyes narrowed while he looked Swan over. "You must have been out all night," he said.
Then the sheriff spoke again in an exultant tone. "I figured it was the best hidin' place you could find, Coyote. You're right; I was sort of bluffing, but I might have changed my mind an' gone on through with it. We've got you dead to rights, Coyote; you haven't got a chance. There's seven of us now an' every man is ready to open up if you come out of there a-shooting."
The ground-owl's weird call came from a hummock near the trail, the ghostly form of a coyote slipped stealthily past like a shadow moving from shadow to shadow until he was lost in the deeper shade, out of which, as if in mocking challenge of a spirit band to any mortal who would follow, came the wild, snarling, unearthly cries of his invisible mates.
But after its eyes are open, after it has developed its legs, after it has learned to play in the sun with its brothers, or run at the gentle call of its mother when she brings home game for it to feed on, the baby Coyote becomes one of the cutest, dearest little rascals on earth.
We're going to wait on you now, and don't you believe we haven't put by the pick of the pies for you all! The captain is fetchin' the tackers, and Pasqual's fetchin' the food. But what about old Pedro and the coyote?" "John, don't call names, 'specially hard ones. They always come home to roost.
When Old Man Coyote ran into him, he growled a deep, provoked growl and whirled around with one big paw raised to cuff whoever had so nearly upset him. Old Man Coyote, more frightened than ever, yelped and ran harder than before, so that by the time Buster Bear saw who it was who had run into him, he was safely out of reach and still running.
You see, Old Man Coyote intended to lead Bowser into strange country and there lose him, hoping that he would not be able to find the way home. Old Man Coyote is himself a tireless runner. He is not so heavy as is Bowser, so does not tire as easily. Then, too, he had not wasted his breath as had Bowser with his steady baying.
His father was a coyote and his mother was a wild-cat. It doesn't really make a dog out of him, does it?" "Not a real dog, I should think. Only a kind of a general dog, at most, I reckon. Though this is a matter of ichthyology, I suppose; and if it is, it is out of my depth, and so my opinion is not valuable, and I don't claim much consideration for it."
MacDonald was waiting with the horses, and Blackton was pointing over toward the steel workers, and was saying something about ten thousand pounds of black powder and dynamite and a mountain that had stood a million years and was going to be blown up that night. "It's the best bit of work I've ever done, Aldous that and Coyote Number Twenty-eight.
The mouth of every gulch behind him seemed to belch forth a dog and they raced across the bench, spread out for two hundred yards. Then Breed sprung one last desperate trick, a coyote trick. A badland wash intersected the flat squarely across his route and Breed leaped to the bed of it and fled fifty yards along its course, then flashed into a narrow coulee that led straight back toward the dogs.
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