Cañon City record., 1910-06-30
LIckIN' THE COYOTE.
(Hugh J. Hughes)

4
a thine line OF cottonwood, indi-
eating where an alkaH stream creeps
down by ripple and pool to join the
rushing river and a picketed horse
with the star--circle brand is grazing
amid the mingled bunch grass and
sage brush. I am lettering in part
of the great cattle, horse and sheep
range country that stretches to the
highest crest of the Rockies. Up the
creek beyond the box-elder clump a
thousand or more cattle are grazing
and a herd of some two hundred
top Of the butte just above them
Yesterday rode up to sheep herder's
camp and he told me with something
like apology in his voice that he had
only 1900 sheep. The tinkle of their
dozens OF bells made sort of un-
rythmned music as they spread like
a huge living fan over the buffalo
grass carpeted valley land They had
Just come from the shearing pens and
were settling down for their sum-
mer's feeding. The herder lives in
covered wagon and two shaggy dogs
lay blinking under its shifting shade.
One of them lay in the others shade
and there was trouble in Dogdom. A
little shaggy. lean wisp of dog came
whimpering into the wagon There
Sport. they whipped you, didn't they
But you can lick a coyote yeti" And
the little excuse for dog wagged his
tail and was eomforted- And i fell to
wondering II, after all Is said and
done. the biggest nd beast thing that
can be said OF any dog OF man is that
he can whip the coyote that every
man as well as every sheep dog has
TO guard against Up the gulsh =
mile OF more from the sheep camp,
just rs one comes to the level butte
top OF mesa Is an old hen and a
flock of ehiekens-not real, Of course
but so fashioned by the wind out Of
the sandy clay earth that the dozen
Tor more rock-capped fragments give
at a distance an amusing parody OF
barnyard fowl There is an old ranch.
its stables burned. and its dug-out
house thrasting a smokeless chimney
The fences are falling down. weeds
cover the garden spot. and old wagon
stands amid growing sage. but the
spring water long ago piped from the
hillside still runs and drops with a
merry tinkIing splash into the lcag
Watering trough. over which a dense
green scum has grown. wonder by
what mischance this cozy little spot
is now vacant. save for the droning OF
the bees in the sweet clover. whether
of ili-health or changing fortune or
wether. as has happened 10 so many
here-and all over the world-the
one-time owner OF these broad ranges
failed TO lick his coyote. The road
winds over mesa and through canon
TO the hanks OF the river, whfrilng,
muddy. angry al Itself and at its
sIlty banks. storEGing over the snags
In its path. boiling on its way to the
great sea Tonder goes great tree.
It's branches witherinE. its roots deep
In the whirling waters A horse and
man swept by only few days ago
trees or men. it is alike to this demon
stream with its cunning cddies and
quicksand fords And again there
are streams, perhaps one by your
door, that sing as they go, happy to
touch hands for a moment with the
green along their banks. Streams are
very much like folks. There's lit
tie cottonwood log cabin down under
. the lee OF bluff. close to but safe
iy above the following stream And
here an old piaihsman lives alone
closing out life OF lonliness. He
has a few cattle. boat and splen'
. did saddle horse. Occasionally he
shoots deer. or joins the boys in the
roundup. or has an exciting race ID
the river after some coveted stick OF
{ timber that comes swirling down the
I stream. An old dog shares his cabir
: with him and fights the chickens and
: the flies. Together the old dog ans
: the old man are waiting TO cinch fol
the roundup on the ranch that Il
. over the range-not happy. but will
: kind OF dumb resignation tha
I passes for content. sat in his cabir
the other day and shared his dough
gobs and made a prctense OF liking bill
q miserable well water. while heart
his story II is not for you. 1t Il
I. mine now-the old mans and mine