merely to maul some distant
neighbor's dog, and notwithstanding vengeful threats, there seemed no
reason to fear that the Bingo breed would die out. One man even avowed
that he had seen a prairie wolf accompanied by three young ones which
resembled the mother, excepting that they were very large and black and
had a ring of white around the muzzle.

True or not as that may be, I know that late in March, while we were
out in the sleigh with Bingo trotting behind, a prairie wolf was started
from a hollow. Away it went with Bingo in full chase, but the wolf did
not greatly exert itself to escape, and within a short distance Bingo
was close up, yet strange to tell, there was no grappling, no fight!

Bingo trotted amiably alongside and licked the wolf's nose.

We were astounded, and shouted to urge Bingo on. Our shouting and
approach several times started the wolf off at speed and Bingo again
pursued until he had overtaken it, but his gentleness was too obvious.

"It is a she-wolf, he won't harm her," I exclaimed as the truth dawned
on me. And Gordon said: "Well, I be darned."

So we called our unwilling dog and drove on.

For weeks after this we were annoyed by the depredations of a prairie
wolf who killed our chickens, stale pieces of pork from the end of the
house, and several times terrified the children by looking into the
window of the shanty while the men were away.

Against this animal Bingo seemed to be no safeguard. At length the wolf,
a female, was killed, and then Bingo plainly showed his hand by his
lasting enmity toward Oliver, the man who did the deed.

VI

It is wonderful and beautiful how a man and his dog will stick to one
another, through thick and thin. Butler tells of an undivided Indian
tribe, in the Far North which was all but exterminated by an internecine
feud over a dog that belonged to one man and was killed by his neighbor;
and among ourselves we have lawsuits, fights, and deadly feuds, all
pointing the same old moral, 'Love me, love my dog.'

One of our neighbors had a very fine hound that he thought the best and
dearest dog in the world. I loved him, so I loved his dog, and when
one day poor Tan crawled home terribly mangled and died by the door, I
joined my threats of vengeance with those of his master and thenceforth
lost no opportunity of tracing the miscreant, both by offering rewards
and by collecting scraps of evidence. At length it was clear that one of
three men to the southwar