"Not a bit of it," declared Hugh. "Wolves were great travelers and used to follow the buffalo around, especially in winter. When buffalo were plenty they really didn't have to do any hunting to amount to anything; they would just wait around the edge of the herd. Animals were constantly getting hurt--bulls were fighting; calves getting trampled on; buffalo of all sizes were getting drowned when crossing the stream, or being mired down in some soap hole. I tell you, the wolves lived fat in those days, especially along the Missouri River. Mr. Sturgis told me one time about reading in the book that Lewis and Clark wrote, telling the story of their trip up the Missouri River, that about one buffalo pound they came to, wolves were so plenty and so gentle that one of the men killed one with a kind of spear that they carried. The wolf let the man walk right up to him." "Yes, I remember that story," said Jack. "I remember it because the book says that the man killed the wolf with an espontoon. I didn't know what that was, and it took me quite a little time to find out. It seems it's a kind of halberd--a sort of cross between a spear and an ax. Anyhow, it had a long handle." "Well, of course," commented Hugh, "when a man can get close enough to an animal to stick a spear into it, the animal isn't what you'd call shy." "I should say not," answered Jack. "Well," Hugh said, "I was talking about the wolf being a big dog. You know, I reckon, that wolves and dogs will cross." "Yes; I've read that in books a good many times; and the books talk about Indian dogs being like wolves. I remember the first day I came out to Swift Water, the time that Uncle Will killed the bear, I saw a coyote, and when I saw him, I thought it was an Indian dog, and that there must be a camp of Indians somewhere near." "I remember," chuckled Hugh; "I remember that day well. You certainly had a lot of excitement that day, considering how old you were, and where you came from." "Didn't I! I tell you, those early days were mighty exciting." "More so than anything that's likely to happen to you again out in this country," drawled Hugh. "You were saying that the wolves were dogs; and I know that's just what Swiftfoot always seemed to be. He would get scared like a dog; when he was pleased he would wag his tail and lay back his ears and show his teeth like a dog; if I took him out in the country and turned him loose, he hunted like a dog; and finally, when he got lost and could not see me, he became confused and lost his wits like a dog."