"Sing it again! Sing it again!" commanded the boys.
They hauled the protesting Chunky to his feet, stood him on a box of pickled pigs' feet, compelling him to begin the song all over again.
"It's all day long on the alka-li.
Where the coyotes howl and——"
"Ki-i-i-i-o-o-o! Ki-i-i-i-o-o-o-ki! K-i-i-i-o-o-ki!"
A long wailing sound—a dismal howl, suddenly cut short the joyous ditty.
"What's that!"
"Ki-i-i-i-o-o-o! Ki-i-i-i-o-o-ki!"
"Coyotes," laughed the guide.
There seemed to be hundreds of them. From every peak in the range their mournful voices were protesting.
All at once out in the black maze of the desert another bunch of them began their weird wailing.