In the course of a mile, without keeping the sheep near at hand, they saw upward of twenty coyotes, five of which Jack killed in as many shots.

“You’ve got the hang of it,” said Naab, rubbing his hands.  “You’ll kill the varmints.  Piute will skin and salt the pelts.  Now I’m going up on the high range to look for bear sign.  Go ahead, on your own hook.”

Hare was regardless of time while he stole under the cedars and through the thickets, spying out the cunning coyotes.  Then Naab’s yell pealing out claimed his attention; he answered and returned.  When they met he recounted his adventures in mingled excitement and disappointment.

“Are you tired?” asked Naab.

“Tired?  No,” replied Jack.

“Well, you mustn’t overdo the very first day.  I’ve news for you.  There are some wild horses on the high range.  I didn’t see them, but found tracks everywhere.  If they come down here you send Piute to close the trail at the upper end of the bench, and you close the one where we came up.  There are only two trails where even a deer can get off this plateau, and both are narrow splits in the wall, which can be barred by the gates.  We made the gates to keep the sheep in, and they’ll serve a turn.  If you get the wild horses on the bench send Piute for me at once.”

They passed the Indian herding the sheep into a corral built against an uprising ridge of stone.  Naab dispatched him to look for the dead coyotes.  The three burros were in camp, two wearing empty pack-saddles, and Noddle, for once not asleep, was eating from Mescal’s hand.

“Mescal, hadn’t I better take Black Bolly home?” asked August.

“Mayn’t I keep her?”

“She’s yours.  But you run a risk.  There are wild horses on the range.  Will you keep her hobbled?”

“Yes,” replied Mescal, reluctantly.  “Though I don’t believe Bolly would run off from me.”

“Look out she doesn’t go, hobbles and all.  Jack, here’s the other bit of news I have for you.  There’s a big grizzly camping on the trail of our sheep.  Now what I want to know is—­shall I leave him to you, or put off work and come up here to wait for him myself?”

“Why—­” said Jack, slowly, “whatever you say.  If you think you can safely leave him to me—­I’m willing.”

“A grizzly won’t be pleasant to face.  I never knew one of those sheep-killers that wouldn’t run at a man, if wounded.”

“Tell me what to do.”

“If he comes down it’s more than likely to be after dark.  Don’t risk hunting him then.  Wait till morning, and put Wolf on his trail.  He’ll be up in the rocks, and by holding in the dog you may find him asleep in a cave.  However, if you happen to meet him by day do this.  Don’t waste any shots.  Climb a ledge or tree if one be handy.  If not, stand your ground.  Get down on your knee and shoot and let him come.  Mind you, he’ll grunt when he’s hit, and start for you, and keep coming till he’s dead.  Have confidence in yourself and your gun, for you can kill him.  Aim low, and shoot steady.  If he keeps on coming there’s always a fatal shot, and that is when he rises.  You’ll see a bare spot on his breast.  Put a forty-four into that, and he’ll go down.”