"Oh, very wild indeed," drawled Helen. "And after dinner I raced back to the _coulee_ to see that Bozie was all right. I took my rifle along so the boys would think I'd gone hunting and wouldn't tell father. "I'd heard coyotes barking, as I thought, all the forenoon. And when I came to the hollow, there was Bozie running around and around his stub, and getting all tangled up, blatting his heart out, while two big old coyotes (or so I thought they were) circled around him. "They ran a little way when they saw me coming. Coyotes sometimes _will_ kill calves. But I had never seen one before that wouldn't hunt the tall pines when they saw me coming. "Crackey, those two were big fellers! I'd seen big coyotes, but never none like them two gray fellers. And they snarled at me when I made out to chase 'em--me wavin' my arms and hollerin' like a Piute buck. I never had seen coyotes like them before, and it throwed a scare into me--it sure did! "And Bozie was so scared that he helped to scare me. I dropped my gun and started to untangle him. And when I got him loose he acted like all possessed! [Illustration: "LET'S HEAR ABOUT YOUR ADVENTURE WITH THE COYOTE, MISS MORRELL." (Page 180.)] "He wanted to run wild," proceeded Helen. "He yanked me over the ground at a great rate. And all the time those two gray fellers was sneakin' up behind me. Crackey, but I got scared! "A calf is awful strong--'specially when it's scared. You don't know! I had to leave go of either the rope, or the gun, and somehow," and Helen smiled suddenly into Miss Van Ramsden's face--who understood--"somehow I felt like I'd better hang onter the gun." "They weren't coyotes!" exclaimed Miss Van Ramsden. "No. They was wolves--real old, gray, timber-wolves. We hadn't been bothered by them for years. Two of 'em, working together, would pull down a full-grown cow, let alone a little bit of a calf and a little bit of a gal," said Helen. "O-o-o!" squealed the excited Flossie. "But they didn't?" "I'm here to tell the tale," returned her cousin, laughing outright. "Bozie broke away from me, and the wolves leaped after him--full chase. I knelt right down----" "And prayed!" gasped Flossie. "I should think you would!" "I _did_ pray--yes, ma'am! I prayed that the bullet would go true. But I knelt down to steady my aim," said Helen, chuckling again. "And I broke the back of one of them wolves with my first shot. That was wonderful luck--with a twenty-two rifle. The bullet's only a tiny thing. "But I bowled Mr. Wolf over, and then I ran after the other one and the blatting Bozie. Bozie dodged the wolf somehow and came circling back at me, his tail flirting in the air, coming in stiff-legged jumps as a calf does, and searching his soul for sounds to tell how scart he was! "I'd pushed another cartridge into my gun. But when Bozie came he bowled me over--flat on my back. Then the wolf made a leap, and I saw his light-gray underbody right over my head as he flashed after poor Bozie.