A BRUSH WITH WOLVES

Evening Star, Issue 18623, 2 May 1924, Page 1

A BRUSH WITH WOLVES

CANADIAN HUNTER’S STORY. When tho fir trees in the, Canadian woods stand tall and mystoriqus, communing with the stars, when the air is dry and cold, and the moon s lonely gleams shine palo on tho frozen lakes and deeply snow-clad forests, then that long, drawn-out wailing howl of tho wolf-pack chills the hearer’s blood. Perhaps tho one who hoars may bo a deer, and he knows that death is on ins trail. Tho veteran hunter,, John A. Hope, feels that some organised effort to kill these crafty and cruel enemies of the deer and smaller animals should bo undertaken by the Government, or bv bands of limiters. "Mr Hope, in ‘Tho Canadian Forest and Outdoors ’ (Ottawa) tells of the thrilling experiences he and some of tho hunting parties lie conducted .went through, with these cunning and dangerous animals. Of course tho nightly howl of wolves in the close vicinity of camps was a little disconcerting to men whose nerves wore frayed at the edges from, a too close contact with an ultra-civilisation that compels an artificial life between bricks and mortar, as was to Tie expected. But tho aroma of balsam and pine in tho pure, crisp air invigorated tho jaded appetite, aucl braced up tho nerves ns no tonic; could, in the first few days, so that by the time they left for home they were'in splendid physical condition. F’or instance, that two male lynx should fall out and elect to settle their difference within one hundred feet of camp at 2 o’clock in the morning, with nerve-shattering screeches, interspersed with tho smashing of underbrush, brought from their hunks two of my guests, who had only arrived tho previous day. “ What in heaven’s name is that horrible racket?”, demanded one with a nervous tremor in iris voice, groping for a match in tho darkness and upselling a lamp in the process. Nothing to bother about, gentlemen,” '.said I, striking a. match, “ only a couple of male lynx settling a love affair.”

A few nights later the same gentlemen were treated to a more exciting experience. From across the lake fronting nnr cabin came n low prolonged howl, uitli a peculiar note at the end, from a lone wolf. Instantly from a ridge behind the cabin came an answering volley of howls, sharp as pistol shots, from'the main pack, rising in volume of sound as they -swept' down and past the cabin, which divided the pack into two halves, and out on to the lake, bright as day under a moon nearly at the full, where, their rapidly-moving forms appeared like black dots on a, white screen.

Still early in the night, I had not yet retired, and at the first volley of howls, sprang to the door, rifle in hand, and throw it wide open on tho chanco of a shot as they swept past and out on to the lake.

With the opening of tho door the cabin seemed to ho full of howling wolves, and brought my guests out of their bunks all standing—in more senses titan one!

Nervous and confused at being awakened so suddenly by a horrid din, neither spoke for the first minutes. Finally one said: “ What a fearful noise! More lynx. 1 suppose, settling lov«, affai'-j'-'.” j “ No,” I replied, throwing some wool! on the open fire, “ a lone wolf scouting across the lake, found a deer, and called tho pack waiting on the ridge behind us here, and they promptly answered the call to supper. In the morning we’l] go over and see by their spoor how wolves encircle and pull down demon tho ice, or among tangled undergrowth on the edge of lakes.” The trail led n.s next morning to the scene of the tragedy in a- little bay. Trampled, blood-bespattered ■ snow, covering hundreds of feet round ; hcrej there, and beyond tho, spoor of the door —a large doc—told where she had tried) and tried again, lo break through the ever-tightening ring of tho grey tigers of tho northern forests. Over there she had finally dropped exhausted from loss of blood well outside the bloody ring, where she had warded off repeated springs from single wolves, in and out in turn, to tear her Hanks open.

My most exciting adventure with wolves etuno when all alone many miles north of the nearest settlement. Walking shortly after daybreak along the, edge of a long lake to examine some traps, in the teeth of a. bitterly cold wind, carrying a slight flurry of snow, the “ yi-ki-hl’s ” of a pack giving tongue broke, on my ears from a hardwood ridgo running parallel with (ho lake on my left.

Being nothing unusual in such a wolfinfested district, I kept steadily on, body bent and eyes lowered to escape the keen wind. Presently, glancing ahead, I saw what looked like a deer come nut of tho timber Romo 900 to I,oooyds distant,, followed by n second; thru a third, until 1 counted fourteen —of what I now recognised were wolves, and probably the smite pack I, had heard a short time before, as they were running in the same direction as myself. Crouching d»*wn I watched them intently for a few minutes to sec what they would do, for one may pass n* iiliiium in the woods as many do—and tamer see a hand of wolves in broad dryLght Evidently they had failed lo overtake and kill in the light snows ef early winter, for presently they lay down on the ice some little distance out from the edge.

Then it suddenly occurred to mo to put to the tost the continually advertised theory, and firmly-rooted opinion among backwoodsmen generally, that: “ A pack of wolves will attack man.” Hero was the opportunity. Getting on to my feet, I commenced walking slowly toward them. For Gto first 60ft or 70ft they gave no sign, presently n. slight .upheaval, and tho whole pack were sitting up on their haunches with heads turned in my direction. Their keen eyes had caught the lone figure out on the ice; now v Inch would they do—slink into the limber, or charge and pull me down? All doubts were quickly set at rest ns part of the pack sprang forward, tho rest, trailing on n few seconds later. On they came straight toward me. ‘ : Ah! ” 1 thought, getting ready to receive them, “ tho theories and tirmlyrooted opinions were correct then apparently, for hero are fourteen wolves charging down on me in broad daylight.” Nino hundred, eight hundred, seven hundred, how swiftly and smoothly in long, low bounds, and in perfect silence, they covered the level ice, with its thin coating of snow, opening out in extended order as they came like a lady’s fan.

Six hundred, five hundred, four hundred yards. “By heavens,” I thought, jamming a clip of cartridges into the magazine of my rifle, ” they mean business,” and I frankly admit a nervous sweat broke out on my forehead.

1 had dropped a charging grizzly in the Rockies, the same with an enraged wapiti stag in the “rutting” season that I had badly wounded and cornered;

and climbed a gum sapling in a hurry to escape a wild boar my doga had irritated to madness in a river swamp in Australia. But here was something new, something unexpected—which past experience dici not warrant—sweeping down in perfect silence, a silence that unnerved, with the speed of racehorses, opening out until the points of the “fan ” wore some 300 ft apart, to encircle—their usual tactics with deer. Three hundred. Two hundred. Something must be done, and that quickly, for the strain on the nerves had become unbearable. Springing up on the snow'shoos I had been kneeling on, I fired a right and left at the two points of the fan.” At the two sharp cracks and the showers of ice ripped up by the high-power bullets, the “ fan ” closed up with surprising suddenness, wheeled round and sped back over their tracks. and relieved, I sent shot after shot at the fleeing grey devils, the ripped-up ice falling in showers over and around them until they disappeared into the timber where I had first seen them.

Here aio three points to consider:— (I) Did the pack really charge down on what_ they knew was a man? (3) Would they have carried the attack homo had 1 not fired? (•3) Did they mistake me for a deer? I incline to the third theory.