I need not enter into the details of a hundred 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 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 majesty.  On hearing it one of the boys briefly remarked, “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 ordinary wolf’s forefoot is 4-1/2 inches long, that of a large wolf 4-3/4 inches, but Lobo’s, as measured a number of times, was 5-1/2 inches from claw to heel; I afterward found that his 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 followed it.  I could see that Lobo had come to the first bait, sniffed about it, and had finally 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 scattered filth over them to express his utter contempt for my devices.  After this he left my drag and went about his business with the pack he guarded so effectively.