Pariah of the Skyline

There is a deal of coyote hunting in the West that is not attended by the niceties of the club hunt. Ever since the first pioneers pushed their way across the great plains the coyote has been an outlaw, looking for no mercy at the hand of man. His predatory habits have made the animal the bane of the ranchman, and his howl has made him the exasperation of the camper and the terror of the tenderfoot. Then, too, his habit of skulking just within rifle range has always made him a tantalizing target for the man with the rifle.

In spite of his unpopularity with all classes of men, however, the coyote has managed to hold his own better than any other animal in the great West. The antelope is swifter of foot, mayhap, but, not having the cunning of the coyote, has been lured within rifle range until practically exterminated in many States. The ranchman’s lust for fresh meat, the eastern tourist’s desire for antlers and elk teeth, and the native who slays for the market have depopulated Colorado and several other States of their best game. The bear, cougar and bobcat have felt the same blighting influence, but the coyote still figures in the skyline of the average Western picture. Sometimes he is unwise enough to eat of poisoned carcasses of cattle, but this is seldom. Again, he falls a victim to a coyote “drive” organized by ranchmen and participated in by townspeople, tenderfoots, newspaper correspondents and amateur photographers. These coyote “drives” are held annually or oftener in nearly all Western communities where the prairie pest flourishes. An average “drive” participated in by several hundred individuals will yield sometimes as high as twenty coyotes, and sometimes none at all. A good deal depends on the wind, and more depends on the coyote’s cunning and ability to sprint.—Outing.