There are several species of wolves in North America: one, a large,
black animal, which inhabits the forests; and another, much smaller,
which hunts the bison and deer in vast packs across the prairie, and is
called the prairie-wolf. Like the wolf of Europe, the black wolf is a
fierce, dangerous creature, and equally cowardly. When driven into the
corner of a hut, as has sometimes occurred, or when caught in a trap, he
will not attempt to defend himself against any person who may enter to
destroy him. Audubon mentions an instance of this. A farmer with whom
he was staying having lost a number of his animals by wolves, dug
several pitfalls in the neighbourhood of his farm. Three large wolves
were found in the morning in one of these traps. The farmer, instead of
shooting them from above, boldly descended into the trap, and seizing
the creatures one by one by the hind-legs, severed the chief tendon,
thus preventing their escaping. He afterwards killed and skinned them
at his leisure, their skins being of sufficient value to repay him for
the loss of his cattle.
The prairie-wolves are considerably smaller than their brethren of the
woods. They travel in large packs, a solitary one being seldom seen.
Their skins are of no value. The Indians will not waste their powder
upon them, and they therefore multiply so greatly, that some parts of
the country are completely overrun by them. They are, however, caught
by; pitfalls covered over with switches baited with meat. They destroy
a great number of horses, particularly in the winter season, when the
latter get entangled in the snow. In this situation, two or three
wolves will often fasten on one animal, and speedily, with their long
claws, tear it to pieces. The horses, however, often bravely defend
themselves; and Mr Goss mentions finding near the bodies of two of
these animals, which had been killed the night before, eight wolves
lying dead and maimed around,--some with their brains scattered, and
others with their legs or ribs broken.
Let us watch from an ambush the manoeuvres of a pack of savage cayotes--
the name given to one species of wolf--while hunting their prey. Our
ears are first assailed by a few shrill, currish barks at intervals,
like the outpost firing of skirmishing parties. These are answered by
similar barks from the opposite direction, till the sounds gradually
approximate on the junction of the different bands. The horses,
sensible of the approach of danger, begin to paw the ground, snort, toss
up their heads, look wildly about them, and exhibit other symptoms of
fear. We prepare our guns ready for action. Three or four stallions
take the lead, and wait, with comparative composure, for the approach of
the enemy. The allies at length enter the field in a semicircular form,
with their flanks extended, for the evident purpose of surrounding their
prey.
They are between three and four hundred strong. The horses, from
experience, know well their object, and, dreading an encounter with so
numerous a force, instantly turn round and gallop off in a contrary
direction. Their flight is the signal for the wolves to advance. The
brutes, uttering a simultaneous yell, charge after the fugitives, still
preserving their crescent form. Two or three horses, much out of
condition, are quickly overtaken, when they commence kicking at the
advance-guard of the enemy; but though several of the wolves receive
severe blows, they will, it is evident--being reinforced by others--
quickly despatch the unfortunate horses.
It is time for us to emerge from our concealment and fire a volley at
the enemy's centre, by which several are brought down. The whole
battalion of cowards instantly wheel about, and fly towards the hills in
the utmost disorder; while the horses, hearing the sound, come galloping
up to us for protection, and by their neighing express their joy and
gratitude at our timely interference.