While riding along about dark we heard a wolf howl behind us. My guide stopped short and assumed a listening attitude. In a few moments another answered, way to the right. Still the Indian listened so intently that his form seemed perfectly rigid. Then another set up a howl on our left. Umph, lobo, said the Lipan, in a tone of relief. I cant say that I admired the music of the wolf at any time, but it certainly never had a more unmusical sound than on that occasion, and when I saw that even an Indians ears were uncertain whether it were wolf or Comanche, I felt the cold chills creeping over me.
Posted on: Wed, 24 Dec 2014 00:50:07 +0000
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