It was only a few days later when Monte opened the door to his sheep wagon one morning to see a red sea of blood on the ground and dead sheep everywhere he looked.

The two-toed left some good tracks even without snow like leaving a calling card. And his was the only coyote tracks to be found. He slaughtered a dozen of the wethers. And slaughtered is the right word. The coyote didn’t even bother to rip the guts out of any of them which typically the first part of a sheep coyotes eat. Every one of them just had their throats slashed with seemingly surgical precision. And the coyote just ran from one victim to the next.

Monte took it very personally and figured it was. It was more like sport killing or maybe revenge for the young female he had caught. And it also couldn’t have come at a worse time. It was time to move the wethers down to the main ranch and get ready to sell them. And Monte figured the 12 dead sheep were the difference between a profit and a loss for a winter of feeding them.

Monte actually fought the mud to drive down to the main ranch to tell the ranch owner what had happened. And how sorry he was he failed at trapping or shooting the two-toed coyote. The old rancher was very understanding and didn’t blame Monte at all. Which he didn’t have to since Monte was heaping plenty of blame on himself.

And then Monte did something I have always wondered if he had planned. Monte wasn’t just a Jack of all trades.He was also a Jack of all outfits. Monte and his skills were always in high demand.Almost any rancher on two different mountain ranges would jump at the chance to hire him for even a few days or weeks let alone a summer.

If Monte didn’t hire out to Ted for the summer he preferred to be kind of a free trapper. Going from ranch to ranch when they needed him most but not getting tied down to any one place for long. Which worked great for him because he could still end up working just about every day. While seeing a lot more outfits and country.

But that spring Monte told the owner of the P-Bench he would stay all summer on the condition the owner let him keep trying to get the two-toed coyote. Now they both knew that was actually the job of the government trapper because he got paid by the federal government to thin out predators. And especially nuisance coyotes like two-toes.

That would also mean giving Monte extra time to run his traps or maybe try to call the coyote in so he could shoot him. And more importantly cost extra gasoline to drive up Bridger Creek every few days. But the old rancher could tell it was now a personal war to Monte and getting him for a whole summer was worth it to him so he agreed.

What Monte failed to mention though was the Palomino with the ball hobble that was still running loose. The last time Monte had gotten a good look at the Palomino the ball had come off It was just the chain attached to the hobble.

Monte had checked on him a few more times to see if the Palomino had survived the rest of the winter or was hung up in a fence. And by then the Palomino had developed a gate even Monte had never seen before. He had started swinging his front leg with the hobble on it in a circle. And then tried to jump it when the chain was going to hit his other front leg. Monte thought it looked just like the Palomino was playing a cruel game of hopscotch which really bothered him.

So Monte had two things going at once there. Trying to get the two-toed coyote. But also still trying to rescue the Palomino.

When it came to the two toe-ed coyote Monte was trying both jump and box traps because the coyote had a habit of crossing the creek in usually about the same place and leaving a track or two so Monte knew he was still coming through.

Monte also tried calling the two-toed coyote in a few times hoping to get a shot at him. But he was too wily for that.

He even considered trying get his hands on a “gitter gun.” Which is a device you bait attached to a cylinder that shot cyanide gas. And when the coyote tries to grab the bait the capsule goes off and shoots cyanide in the coyote’s mouth and face.

But by then you were supposed to be permitted to set a “gitter gun,” and Monte wasn’t. And besides lots of people fished, picnicked, and even camped on the creek in the summer and Monte figured that was too dangerous to humans and especially little kids and pets.

Because they didn’t call them “gitter guns” for nothing. If a kid or pet dog grabbed that bait that was instant death and no saving them.

Then the other thing was Monte was still checking on the Palomino because he had a plan. “Hobby ranchers” usually showed up in the summer to enjoy the peace and quiet and pretend they were ranchers. And Monte was laying in wait until he saw or herd they were on the Sheath.

Monte wanted to have a talk with the owners about the poor horse still running with the hobble. And tell them what the hired hand had told him about shooting the horse if he got the chance.

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