IX.

Ever see'd a herd ring'd in at night? Wal, it's sort of cur'us,--the watchin' sky, The howl of coyotes--a great black mass, With thar an' thar the gleam of a eye An' the white of a horn--an', now an' then, An' old bull liftin' his shaggy head, With a beller like a broke-up thunder growl-- An' the summer lightnin', quick an' red,