THE WARY WOLF
One day in western Wyoming an elk was killed by hunters. It was left
lying on the ground all night. Its only protection was a handkerchief
tied to one of the horns. Tracks in the snow showed that wolves were
about and that they had circled the carcass, but without going close
enough to touch it.
In another instance a deer was left out all night in the wolf country.
“How did you protect it?” someone asked the hunter.
“By simply rubbing my hands over it,” he answered.
A mature wolf will not eat or touch anything that has human scent upon
it, or that carries the scent of iron or steel, which he evidently
associates with the deadly scent of man.
A cowboy shot his injured pony and left it lying on the plains. The
pony was shod. Wolves did not touch the carcass. On another occasion
and in the same locality a pony was killed by lightning. It was not
shod and carried no human scent. Upon this pony the wolves were
feasting within a few hours.
The wolf in his struggles with man has become an extremely cautious
animal. He is hunted and pursued with deadly ingenuity and
persistence. Guns, traps, poison, and dogs are used for his
destruction. There is no quarter for him--always a price on his head;
and the sum is large. Survivors must be exceptionally wide-awake and
wary. The numbers that still survive show that this exacting price of
existence has been met. They have not been beaten. Altogether, the
wolves now alive probably are much more destructive than their
ancestors were, and far more capable of saving themselves from
extermination by man.
Much of the time wolves hunt in coöperating packs. They run an animal
down by following it in relays; sometimes one or more wolves lie in
wait at a point of vantage while others drive or force the victim into
the ambush. On an island in Alaska a number of wolves in relays chased
a deer and at last drove it into the sea. Near the point where it
leaped into the water a swimming wolf was in waiting.
Three wolves chased a young antelope through my mountain camp. Though
they nearly ran over me, I doubt whether either the antelope or the
wolves saw me. On they went across the plateau. I hoped that the
antelope might escape; but just before he reached the top of a ridge I
saw a wolf peering over. The antelope and the wolves disappeared on
the other side, where I suppose the drifting clouds and steadfast
pines again witnessed a common tragedy of the wild.
On another occasion I saw three wolves drive a deer from a cañon and
so direct its course that it emerged where the way was covered with a
deep snowdrift. As the deer floundered through the soft snow it was
pounced upon by a fourth wolf, which was lying in wait at this point.
Wolves occasionally capture the young, the stupid, and the injured
among deer, sheep, elk, and moose; but the big-game loss from wolf
depredations probably is not heavy. These wolf-chased animals have
developed a wariness and endurance that usually enable them, except
perhaps during heavy snows, to triumph over this enemy.
Economically, the food habits of wolves are not entirely bad. In many
localities they prey freely upon those ever-damaging pests--mice,
rats, rabbits, and prairie dogs. They are also scavengers.
The vast herds of buffaloes used to be constantly followed by
countless packs of wolves. At that time the gray wolf was commonly
known as the buffalo wolf, and he is still often spoken of by that
name. The wolves were watchful to pounce upon any stray, weak, or
injured animal.
Well-authenticated accounts tell us that often a number of buffaloes
would convoy a calf or a wounded buffalo to a place of safety. What a
strange thing it must have been, out on the plains, to see a pack of
wolves, fierce and fiendish, endeavouring to break through the buffalo
line of defense that surrounded a retreating calf! Except while
migrating, buffalo bulls appeared to have the habit of standing guard
over a sick or injured buffalo until the weak one got well or died.
Wolves prey extensively on cattle and sheep; and to a less extent on
horses, pigs, and chickens. Many stockmen think that a single pair of
wolves may damage cattle herds to the value of a thousand dollars a
year. A single wolf has been charged with killing eighty head of
cattle in a year, or even ten head of stock in a month. Occasionally a
pair of wolves may kill a number of animals in a day. In Texas the red
wolf feeds on cattle, colts, sheep, and goats--the gray mostly on
cattle; while the black shows a fondness for pork of a better grade
than razorback.
The cattle-raising country has a wolf popuation. Formerly wolves
followed the buffalo herds in their long drifts and migrations up and
down the plains; they now follow the cattle herds in the West. They
winter with the cattle in the lowlands, and in the summer accompany
the “beef on hoof” up into the high ranges among the peaks.
When they come upon a herd of cattle they isolate one; then one or
more wolves systematically attack the head while another or others
attack behind. Their powerful jaws snap quickly and cut or crush
deeply. They endeavour to hamstring the victim.
On one occasion, in southern Colorado, I saw a herd of cattle standing
in a circle with their heads outward. A number of wolves were
attacking them. By leaping unitedly--first at one then at
another--they finally frightened one victim out of the circle of
safety. He was at once driven away from the herd, and in a short time
the wolves had disabled his hind legs and pulled him down.
On another occasion, in North Park, Colorado, I saw two wolves pull
down three two-year-olds in a short time. I watched them through a
field glass. One wolf attacked in front while the other kept leaping
and snapping at the flanks and legs until the animal fell. These three
animals were killed in less than half an hour. As they were not
eaten, the killing was apparently for the amusement of the wolves.
In wolf-infested cattle territory it is common for one or more cows to
guard the calves while the other cows go to water. At a ranch where I
made my headquarters for a few days, the plan was being tried of
equipping every thoroughbred calf with a bell. This practice proved
only temporarily effective in keeping wolves away.
In the cattle country you will find the wolfer--a picturesque
character engaged in the peculiar occupation of trying to exterminate
wolves. His equipment consists of a rifle, traps, and poison. A few
wolfers follow their occupation the year round. Many of them are free
trappers--some of them old-timers who have seen better trapping days.
When a wolfer meets another wolfer, or when he is discussing business
with stockmen and others who are interested, his talk is likely to run
to “Three Toes,” a wolf that killed so many cattle on the S.S. Bar
Ranch; or to “Old Two Toes,” which John Jones succeeded in trapping.
He is eager to hear how Smith trapped the last wolf. Just as the
prospector has faith that he will find the mythical lost mine, many
wolfers firmly believe that they will yet compound a scent which will
please the nostrils of the most wary wolf and lure him to his doom.
The hunter and the trapper keep bringing forward new and skillful ways
of poisoning and trapping wolves. But getting a wolf becomes
increasingly difficult. The majority of wolves now trapped are the
young or the stupid ones. Many trappers use traps by the gross. These
are set in clusters in selected places--in narrow trails, round
carcasses, and in the approaches to stream crossings. The traps are
concealed; placed in water; they are deodorized, hidden, and
false-scented with offal. Whole batteries are placed before or round a
stake the top of which is highly scented with something alluring to
wolf nostrils.
One day I watched a trapper spend several hours in placing more than a
hundred traps round the carcass of a cow. He avoided touching the
carcass. This concealed trap arrangement was as complicated as a
barbed-wire entanglement. At one place he set the traps three abreast
and five deep. On another probable line of approach he set ten traps,
singly, but on a zigzag line. Two fallen logs made a V-shaped chute,
which ended close to the carcass. In the narrow end of this chute
another cluster of traps was set. Thus the carcass was completely
surrounded by numerous concealed traps. It seemed impossible for any
animal to walk to the carcass without thrusting a foot into one of
the steel jaws of this network of concealed traps. Yet a wolf got
through that night and feasted on the carcass!
Clever ways have been devised to keep human scent off the poisoned
meat. Poison is inserted into pieces of meat without touching them
with the hand. Then these choice dainties are taken on horseback in a
rawhide bucket and scattered with wooden pinchers, the dispenser
wearing rubber gloves. Yet most wolves will starve before touching
these morsels, evidently scenting the poison!
Forced by poison and traps to avoid most dead stuff that man has
touched, the wolf is compelled to do more killing. Then, too, his
special development and increased experience, together with his
exceptional equipment and opportunity, afford him a living and leave
him spare energy and time; so for the fun of it he kills and kills,
like a game-hog.
In Montana I once saw a pair of wolves attack a broncho. The horse,
which was exceptionally keen-witted and agile, fought the wolves off
successfully for several minutes, and finally smashed a hind leg of
one with a kick. He then became aggressive, and endeavoured to stamp
the injured wolf to death. Under the brave protection of the other
wolf, which fiercely fought the enemy, the disabled one tried to
escape; but the horse landed a kick on this fighter, crippled it, and
finally killed both.
The new environment of wolf life that accompanied the approach of man
demanded a change of habit. Many things that wolves had always
done--which had been good enough for their ancestors--must be done no
more; things that never had been done must be done at once. It was the
old, inexorable law--the survival of the fittest; the passing of those
which could not change and cope with newly imposed conditions.
Any one who has had experience with wolves is pretty certain to
conclude that they are intelligent--that they reason. A trapper who
thinks that a wolf is guided by instinct, who fails to realize lupine
vigilance, and forgets that wolves are always learning--ever adapting
themselves to changing environment--will be laughed at by a
multiplying wolf population.
With astounding quickness the new dangers man introduced into the wolf
world were comprehended and avoided. In the decade following 1885
wolves appear to have gained knowledge of human ways more rapidly than
man developed in his knowledge of wolf ways. This rapid mental
development on their part cannot be called instinct. Plainly it was a
case of intelligence and the wisdom of experience. Surviving wolves
have learned absolutely to avoid those insidious means of death that
high bounties have led man to invent for their extermination.
Apparently, too, old wolves promptly educate their children; so that
the youngsters avoid these new complex dangers. Whether this education
is consciously given on the part of the old wolves matters not. The
fact that wolves multiplied in the midst of the concerted and
relentless war waged against them by man indicates that the youngsters
learned how to take care of themselves from the experience and not
from the instincts of their parents. The safety-first slogan in the
wolf world appears to be: “Avoid being seen by a man; and never, never
touch anything that carries the scent of man or of iron or steel.”
A generation or two ago a wolf took no pains to keep out of sight; now
he uses his wits to avoid being seen. Then it was easy to trap him;
now he has become exceedingly difficult to trap. Long-range rifles,
poison, and steel traps brought about these changes. It was about 1880
when wolves began to develop this cunning for self-preservation. Heavy
bounties brought numerous trappers and hunters into the wolf domain;
but such was their development that, despite this incessant warring,
for fifteen years the wolves actually multiplied.
Both old wolves play with the puppies, and on rare occasions both at
the same time. More often one of the old ones allows the puppies to
play with it. The old one will lie full length while the puppies tug
and chew at its ears, bite and tug at tail, and snap at nose. Upon the
old one they climb, trampling and scuffling about. To all this the old
one submits without a move, unless it is to encourage or prolong the
interest of the puppies.
A mated wolf is happy in the company of the mate. When well fed and
with leisure time--no puppies to watch over--they lie in the sun near
the den usually with one resting its head upon the body of the other.
Or, puppylike, they may wrestle and play together for an hour without
ceasing.
Numbers often play together. In the “Adventures of a Nature Guide” I
have told of a number playing with a tumbleweed on a windy prairie.
Sometimes they go away exploring. A trip of this kind often carries
them far beyond the bounds of their home territory. Sometimes they
appear to have a place in mind when they start; again they wander here
and there, following each inclination or new interest.
Exploring often brings them in touch with strange wolves. With these
there may be battles but more likely organized play, like the relay
running of a deer or some other victim. When a number are together
they are likely to make life miserable for a mountain lion in case
they come upon the trail of one. They will even annoy a bear.
The wolf has extraordinary endurance, great strength, senses amazingly
developed, and exceptionally powerful jaws. He is a good swimmer. I
have seen wolves swimming vigorously in rivers, wide lakes, and among
breakers. They appear to be equally at home in the mountains, in the
forest, in thickets, or on the prairie. They probably live from eight
to fifteen years.
The coyote, or prairie wolf, is a distinct species, much smaller and
with more fox traits than his big brother, the gray wolf.
The wolf is closely related to the dog family; in fact, a Husky, or
Eskimo dog, is a domesticated wolf. The track of a wolf is almost
identical with that of a dog.
The average weight of a mature gray wolf is close to one hundred
pounds. In exceptional cases they have been known to weigh one hundred
and fifty pounds. They are, therefore, about twice the weight of the
coyote, or prairie wolf, and considerably larger and heavier than the
average collie. For the most part, those near the Arctic regions are
larger than those in the southern United States.
Seen in profile at a distance, the back line is comparatively
straight. The ears rise just a trifle above this line; in front of the
hips the back sags a trifle, while the tail is extended almost
straight, with the point held slightly above the level of the back.
With the coyote the ears are more prominent, the back more swayed, and
the tail droops at a very sharp angle, with the point turned a little
upward.
Among Indians wolf pets are common. At an Alaskan Indian encampment I
was once greeted by a number of romping Indian children who had
several black-faced wolf puppies with faces painted vermilion and
yellow.
The puppies are born early in March. The number varies from six to
twelve. For the first few weeks they are almost black, especially
about the head. For a period after the young cease nursing the mother
stays with them much of the time, while the father hunts and brings
food to the entrance of the den or into it. At the age of a year the
young wolf is still puppylike, and apparently he does not reach
maturity until more than two years of age.
Young wolves are sometimes seized by eagles or foxes; and all wolves
are subject to attacks from parasites and disease.
Old storybooks are full of tales of wolf ferocity. Wolves pursue the
lone horseman, or even attack the occupants of a sleigh. A fiddler
returning at night is forced to take refuge on top of a deserted
building or in a treetop; or a mail carrier narrowly escapes with his
life after losing his sack. All too frequently we still hear stories
of wolves attacking a solitary traveller, but careful investigation of
these stories shows them to be sheer fabrications.
The howl of the wolf is deep, while that of the coyote is shrill and
high-pitched. It appears that wolves have a language and a system of
signalling. These consist of howls, snarls, and barks of varying
length, with varying spaces or accents. Wolves prowl and howl mostly
at night; but it is not uncommon for them to hunt or to wander in the
daytime.
The gray wolf is known also as the timber wolf. He may be gray,
grayish yellow, or grayish black, occasionally reddish; and now and
then he verges on cream colour. The colour varies greatly, even among
the members of a single and perhaps related pack.
Formerly the gray wolf was distributed practically over all North
America. Though classified into various sub-species, it really was
the same wolf in Florida and Alaska, in Labrador and Arizona. In
different localities he varied in size, colour, and minor
characteristics; he necessarily adapted himself to the food supply of
his locality and followed the necessary means of getting his food. But
everywhere he was really the same gray wolf.
The present wolf population of the United States is not numerous; but
it is active, aggressive, and destructive. The animal probably has
been exterminated in most of the Eastern States and in California. The
coyote probably is economically more beneficial to man than the gray
wolf, and does less damage to man’s cattle.
In common with most animals, wolves live on a fixed or home range.
They spend their life in one locality. This has a diameter of fifteen
or twenty miles. To a certain extent its area and form are dependent
on the food supply and the topography. One wolf that I knew of had a
home range that measured forty by ten miles.
Much of the time wolves run in pairs; and, from both my own
observation and that of others, I believe they commonly mate for life.
Their home is a den. This most frequently is upon a southern slope. It
may be of their own digging or a badger or a prairie-dog hole which
the wolves have enlarged; or it may be a natural cave. In the woods it
may be in a huge hollow tree. Almost invariably a pair has a den to
themselves. I have heard of a few instances where two litters of wolf
puppies were found in the same den; but probably the second litter, in
an emergency, had been moved into the den for safety.
Wolves within the bounds of the United States are not ferocious; they
do not attack human beings. That they were once ferocious is probable;
but years ago they learned the folly of exposing themselves to human
beings.
Notwithstanding all this, the wolf is not a coward. He is brave enough
when anything is to be gained by being brave. The spectacular,
reckless, grand-stand bravery that is pretty certain to be accompanied
by death does not appeal to the wolf. Instances are on record,
however, where numbers of wolves have risked their lives in order to
save or to try to save a wounded companion, either from men or from
animals.
A man captured and brought home a number of wolf puppies and placed
them in a box inside a high picket fence. He thought the mother might
come to their rescue and prepared to entrap her. He took off a picket
of the fence, and placed steel traps inside and outside the fence and
in the gap. On the first night the mother did bravely come to the
rescue; but she avoided all dangers and carried off her puppies.