“That would be hard to answer,” said Joe; “hard to answer. I don’t suppose there’s a soul that knows for certain. There’s been tales about ’em bein’ et up by wild beasts, but that ain’t likely; and there’s been tales about ’em bein’ killed by the Indians, but that ain’t likely neither. Why, them Red-Skins would run like scered jack-rabbits when they seen the Ole Man comin’, or the Ole Woman either. Then there’s tales about ’em dyin’ for water in the desert, which may be so; but more than likely they settled somewheres and lived a happy and peaceful life.” “The chances are,” said Red, “that they settled in the Lost Canyon, and their offspring may be livin’ there yet for all anybody knows.” “Where is the Lost Canyon?” asked Lanky. “That’s jist what nobody don’t know,” said Red; “but it’s out in the Big Bend Country somewheres, and it opens into the Río Grande. It gits wide, and there’s springs in it, and buffalo a-grazin’ on the grass, and it’s a fine country.” “How do you know about it?” asked Lanky. “Have you ever been there?” “Naw,” said Red, “but people has. But you never can find it when you’re lookin’ for it. Them that finds it, finds it accidentally, and then they can’t go back. That’s jist the place that would of suited Pecos Bill’s Ole Man, and the chances are that’s where he stopped. Some day I’m goin’ to happen on that canyon myself, and if I do, I’ll jist stake me out a ranch; that is unless it’s inhabited by Pecos Bill’s race. If it is, I reckon I’ll let ’em have it.” “And what became of Pecos Bill?” asked Lanky. “Why,” said Joe, “he jest growed up with the country. There wasn’t nothin’ else he could do. He got to runnin’ with a bunch of coyotes and took up with ’em. He learned their language and took up all their bad habits. He could set on the ground and howl with the best of ’em, and run down a jack-rabbit jest as quick, too. He used to run ahead of the pack and pull down a forty-eight point buck and bite a hole in his neck before the rest of the coyotes got there. But he always divided with the pack, and that’s probably the reason they throwed off on him like they did.” “Did he ever teach anybody else the coyote language?” asked Lanky. “Jest one old prospector that befriended him once. That was all. You see the old man couldn’t find no gold and he went to trappin’, and he used the language that Bill had taught him to call up the coyotes and git ’em in his traps. Bill said it was a dirty trick, and he wouldn’t teach nobody else how to speak coyote. Bill would of killed the old prospector if it hadn’t of been that the old man done him a favor once.” “What did he do?” asked Lanky. “Why, it was him that found Bill and brought him back to civilization and liquor, which Bill had jest about forgot the taste of.” “How old was Bill at that time?” asked Lanky.