the specter of living death
that plodded silently up and down the valleys and the ridges. When it
came suddenly through the trees, drawn by the scent of a fresh kill,
some coyote family scattered swiftly and left the feast. Cripp was as
apt to howl in broad daylight as at night, and the sounds were
meaningless, the unintelligible jargon of an idiot. Every coyote within
hearing bristled with fear whenever Cripp's jabbering reached their
ears.

In the background of Breed's mind the purpose to slay Flatear still
persisted, but his duties prevented his spending the time to hunt for
him. Occasional wolf howls were heard back here in the hills, the calls
of strays that had drifted down from the north, following the line of
the hills and keeping well back from the dangers of the low country.
Each time he heard the wolf note the urge to kill was strengthened in
Breed. He had heard Flatear's voice but once and so was unable to
identify him by ear alone but must receive added testimony through eyes
or nose. Twice he left his family to investigate the source of these
cries. One came from a lone female; the other from a big gray dog wolf
who had mated with a coyote, and there were five pups trailing after the
oddly assorted pair. These pups were much like Breed's own and they gave
proof that the coyote strain was stronger than the wolf. Their language
was that of their mother. The only trace of wolf parentage was shown in
their greater size and the dark fur of their backs. Breed's search for
his old enemy proved fruitless. Many things of which Breed was unaware
had taken place on his old home range since he had left it, and Flatear,
terrified by the latest of these events, had slunk away to the north.

Collins' prediction had been verified. The coyotes in the low country
where poison had been strewn broadcast on the range had suddenly turned
from stale meat as from disease. Much of their food supply had come from
bloated sheep, from locoed horses, and from cows that had eaten larkspur
and died, but they would no longer touch these carcasses. Deprived of
this source of food, their kills became more frequent and they grew
bolder in their raids on calves and sheep.

Then a new and appalling menace reared its ugly head in the foothills,
striking not at coyotes alone but at every living thing. There were many
coyotes such as Cripp, with the hair slipped from their hides,--the ones
that had survived a dose of poison but were unable to