The Kid looked that way interestedly.

He was not afraid of coyotes.

They would not hurt anyone; they were more scared than you were--the bunch had told him so.
He wished he could get a sight of him, though.

He liked to see their ears stick up and their noses stick out in a sharp point, and see them drop their tails and go sliding away out of sight.

When he was ten and Daddy Chip gave him a gun, he would shoot coyotes and skin them his own self.
The coyote yapped shrilly again, and the Kid wondered what his Doctor Dell would say when he got home.