Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1915-10-28

E
dren at the presence of enemies and
the thickening clouds of smoke, thrust
their quilts still more erect. The lynx
lay on its belly, like a cat, its hind
quarters twitching, and gathered for
The spring. Kazan's feet seemed
scarcely to touch the sand as he circl-
ed lightly around it. The lynx pivoted
as he circled, and then it shot in a
round snarling ball over the eight feet
of space that separated them.
| Kazan did not leap aside. He made
no effort to escape the attack, but met
it fairly with the full force of his Shout
ders, as sledge dogs meets sledge dog.
He was ten pounds heavier than the
! lynx, and for moment the big loose
jointed cat with its twenty knife like
claws was thrown on it's side. Like a
flash Kazan took advantage of the mo-
ment and drove for the back Of the
cats neck.
In that same moment blind Gray
Wolf leaped in with a snarling cry, and
fighting under Kazan's belly, she fas-
tened her Jaws in one of the cats hind
legs. The bone snapped. The lynx
twice outweighed, leaped backward,
dragging both Kazan and Gray Volt.
1t fell back down on one Of the porcu-
pines, and hundred quilts drove into
its body. Another leap and 1t was free
fleeing into the face Of the smoke.
Kazan did not pursue. Gray Wolf
came to his side and licked his neck,
where fresh blood was crimsoning his
tawny hide. The fisher cat lay as il
dead, watching them with fierce little
black eyes. The porcupine continued
to chatter, as if begging for mercy.
And then thick black suffocating pail
of smoke drove low over the sand bar
and with it came air that was furnace
hat
At the uttermost end of the sand bar
Kazan and Gray Wolf rolled them
selves into balls and thrust their heads
under their bodies. The fire was very
near now. The roar of it was like that
of a great cataract, with now and ther
louder crash of falling trees. The
air was filled with ash and burning
sparks, and twice Kazan drew fortn
his head to snap at blazing embers that
fell upon and scared him like hot irons.
Close along the edge OF the stream
grew thick green bush, and when the
fire reached, this, it burned more SLOW
ly, and the heat grew less. Still, 1t was
long time before Kazan and Gray
Wolf could draw forth their heads and
breathe more freely. Then they found
that the finger OF sand reaching out
into the river had saved them. Every
where in that triangle between the
two rivers the world had turned black
and was hot mderfoot.
| The smoke cleared away. The wind
changed again, and swung down cool
and fresh from the west and north.
The fisher cat was the first to move
cautiously back to the forests that had
been, but the porcupines were still roll
ed into balls when Gray Wolf and Ka-
zan left the sand bar. They began to
travel upstream, and before night
came. their feet were sore from hot
ash and burning embers.
The moon was strange and forebod.
ing that night, like spatter of blood
in the sky, and through the long silent
hours there was not even the boot OF
an owl to give sign that life still ex-
listed where yesterday had been a
paradise Of wild things. Kazan knew
that there was nothing to hunt, and
they continued to travel all that night
With dawn they struck narrow
swamp along the edge of the stream
Hero beavers had built a dam, and
they were able to cross over into the
green country on the opposite side. For
another day and another night they
travelled westward. and this brought
them into the thick country of swamp
and timber along the Waterfound.
And as Kazan and Gray Wolf came
from the west. there came from the
Hudsons Bay post to the east slim
dark faced French half breed by the
name of Henri Lott, the most famous
lynx hunter in all the Hudson's Bay
country He was prospecting for
Signs" and he found them in abund-
ance along the Waterfound. 1t was a
game paradise, and the snow shoe rab-
bit abounded in thousands. AS a con-
sequence, the lynxes were thick, and
Henri built his trapping shack. and
then returned to the post to wait until
the first SHOWS fell, when he would
come back with his team, supplies and
traps,
And up from the south. at this time,
there was slowly working his way by
canoe and trail young university ZOO
logist who was gathering material for
a book on The Reasoning of the Wild.
His name was Paul Weyman, and he
had made arrangements to spend a
part of the winter with Henri Lott the
half breed. He brought with him
plenty of paper, camera and the
photograph of girl His only weapon