Wolf Hunt in Oklahoma.

              SCRIBNER'S MAGAZINE
VOL. XXXVIII	NOVEMBER, 1905	NO. 5
A WOLF HUNT IN OKLAHOMA
BY THEODORE ROOSEVELT
ILLUSTRATIONS FROM PHOTOGRAPHS BY ALEXANDER LAMBERT, M. D., AND W. SLOAN SIMPSON
ON April eighth, nineteen hundred and five, we left the town of Frederick, Oklahoma, for a few days' coyote coursing in the Comanche Reserve. Lieut.-Gen. S. B. M. Young, U.S.A., retired, Lieu-tenant Fortescue, U.S.A., formerly of my regiment, Dr. Alexander Lambert, of New York, Colonel Cecil Lyon, of Texas, and Sloan Simpson, also of Texas, and formerly of my regiment, were with me. We were the guests of two old-style Texas cattlemen, Messrs. Burnett and Wagner, who had leased great stretches of pasture from the Comanches and Kiowas; and I cannot sufficiently express my appreciation of the kindness of these my two hosts. Burnett's brand, the "four sixes," has been owned by him for forty years. Both of them had come to this country thirty years before, in the days of the buffalo, when all game was very plentiful and the Indians were still on the war-path. Several other ranchmen were along, including John Abernethy, of Tesca, Oklahoma, a professional wolf hunter. There were also a number of cow hands of both Burnett and Wagner; among them were two former riders for the "four sixes," Fi Taylor and Uncle Ed Gillis, who seemed to make it their special mission to see that everything went right with me. Further-more there was Captain McDonald of the Texas Rangers, a game and true man, whose name was one of terror to outlaws and violent criminals of all kinds; and finally there was Quanah Parker, the Comanche chief, in his youth a bitter foe of the whites, now painfully teaching his people to travel the white man's stony road.
*, From the forthcoming book, "Outdoor Pastimes of an American Hunter," by Theodore Roosevelt.
We drove out some twenty miles to where camp was pitched in a bend of Deep Red Creek, which empties into the Red River of the South. Cottonwood, elm, and pecans formed a belt of timber along the creek; we had good water, the tents were pitched on short, thick grass, and everything was in perfect order. The fare was delicious. Al-together it was an ideal camp, and the days we passed there were also ideal. Cardinals and mocking-birds—the most individual and delightful of all birds in voice and manner—sang in the woods; and the beautiful, many-tinted fork-tailed fly-catchers were to be seen now and then, perched in trees or soaring in curious zigzags, chattering loudly.
In chasing the coyote only greyhounds are used, and half a dozen different sets of these had been brought to camp. Those of Wagner, the " Big D " dogs, as his cow-punchers called them, were handled by Bony Moore, who, with Tom Burnett, the son of our host Burke Burnett, took the lead in feats of daring horsemanship, even in that field of daring horsemen. Bevins had brought both greyhounds and rough-haired staghounds from his Texas ranch. So had Cecil Lyon, and though his dogs had chiefly been used in coursing the black-tailed Texas jack-rabbit, they took naturally to the coyote chases. Finally there were Abernethy's dogs, which together with their master, performed the feats I shall hereafter relate. Abernethy has a homestead of his own not far from Frederick, and later I was introduced to his father, an old Confederate soldier, and to his sweet and pretty wife, and their five little children. He had run away with his wife when they were nineteen and
Copyright, 1905, by Charles Scribner's Sons. All rights reserved.
VOL. XXXVIII.-6r