rocks cut off the view.

By travelling slowly we reached the ranch in safety, and after securing
him with a collar and a strong chain, we staked him out in the pasture
and removed the cords. Then for the first time I could examine him
closely, and proved how unreliable is vulgar report where a living hero
or tyrant is concerned. He had _not_ a collar of gold about his neck,
nor was there on his shoulders an inverted cross to denote that he had
leagued himself with Satan. But I did find on one haunch a great broad
scar, that tradition says was the fang-mark of Juno, the leader of
Tannerey's wolf-hounds--a mark which she gave him the moment before he
stretched her lifeless on the sand of the canon.

* * * * *

I set meat and water beside him, but he paid no heed. He lay calmly on
his breast, and gazed with those steadfast yellow eyes away past me down
through the gateway of the canon, over the open plains--his plains--nor
moved a muscle when I touched him. When the sun went down he was still
gazing fixedly across the prairie. I expected he would call up his band
when night came, and prepared for them, but he had called once in his
extremity, and none had come; he would never call again.

* * * * *

A lion shorn of his strength, an eagle robbed of his freedom, or a dove
bereft of his mate, all die, it is said, of a broken heart; and who will
aver that this grim bandit could bear the threefold brunt, heart-whole?
This only I know, that when the morning dawned, he was lying there still
in his position of calm repose, but his spirit was gone-the old
king-wolf was dead.

* * * * *

I took the chain from his neck, a cowboy helped me to carry him to the
shed where lay the remains of Blanca, and as we laid him beside her, the
cattle-man exclaimed: "There, you _would_ come to her, now you are
together again."

REDRUFF

THE STORY OF THE DON VALLEY PARTRIDGE

I

Down the wooded slope of Taylor's Hill the Mother Partridge led her
brood; down toward the crystal brook that by some strange whim was
called Mud Creek. Her little ones were one day old but already quick on
foot, and she was taking them for the first time to drink.

She walked slowly, crouching low as she went, for the woods were full of
enemies. She was uttering a soft little cluck in her throat, a call to
the little balls of mottled down that on their tiny pi