THE PRAIRIE WOLF

Evening Star, Issue 21890, 29 November 1934, Page 14

THE PRAIRIE WOLF

SERENADING THE MO&H HIS LIFE IN THE WILDS The July day had been extremely hot, and the heat had made my head ache as if it had been _ scraped by shrapnel once more, writes Harper Cory, in the ‘ Manchester Guardian.’ Evening brought little relief, even though I had pitched my tent on the hillside above the creek, usually a coo! spot; the parched earth gave freely of its stored warmth, and sleep was not minded to be wed. At last 1 slipped into a fitful, dreamy state, waiting on the threshold of sleep; then a hideous howl from a nearby rock made me leave my cot with a rush. Silence followed. There was no alien sound by which I could trace the presence of the noisy one. I returned to the tent half-convinced that I had entertained a nightmare. Twenty minutes or so later the howling began again across the creek, but now it was enormously reinforced. Coyotes were holding a choral festival and barking their anthem to the moon. They had chosen their “ choir loft ” intelligently, for they were squatting in a semi-circle on a high rock, difficult to climb in daylight, definitely dangerous at night. I could plainly distinguish their bodies, with the aid of glasses; but I knew it was useless to try to move them elsewhere. Even though I scaled the rock and drove them away, they would recollect on my side of the creek because they were bursting with a desire to sing. And long before I could get near to the choir they would have been warned of mv approach. For they had posted sentries so well hidden in the grasses that I could only guess which lumps were rocks and which were animals. The row had to be borne patiently, even though it would last until an hour before sunrise.- The noise was loud, but its worst feature was the deadly monotony of the chant: “ Yip, vip, yap, yap, yip, yip, yap, yee, ow, ooo!” Each animal howled the same chant with amazing regularity, scarcely ever varving the tones announced by the pack-leader. I was forced to laugh whenever I studied the singers through my glasses. They were so very much in earnest—almost as much a I have been when singing among the basses in a choral society. The concert ended abruptly, anti the choristers departed homeward through the corn so cautiously that they might as well have been buried, once they stepped from the organ loft. THE COYOTE’S CHARACTER.

The coyote is a strange mixture. If his own life is in danger he cringes and grovels in the most degrading manner, making little or no attempt to fight back : but if his young or his mate arc in danger he becomes a raging fury in their defence. He is timid when roaming the prairies, but captivity sours his nature, making him bitter, vicious, and untrustworthy. Yet. if kindly treated when a cub he develops into an affec-

tionate one-man dog who will cheerfully give his life in defence of his_ man. I like coyotes more than domesticated dogs, for the coyote does not know the meaning of cupboard love. He looks like a medium-sized collie, having the ears and muzzle of a fox; and he ftlways carries his black-tipped tail depressed. Ho mates during February, after which the couple live and hunt together for life, not for only a season. He is a great believer in the idea of a division of labour, and so, when a home is to be made, he leaves his mate to do all the hard work while he prowls round on sentry go. The female digs a burrow about 3ft long, at the end of which she makes the den, lining it with leaves and grasses. A second den is made lower down the hillside, the entrance to it being well hidden by bushes in each case. The young, from four to ten in the litter, are born in the first den during April. Very much like small kittens, they are clothed with short dark fur, and they are blind until nine days old. They are not allowed outside until they are three weeks old. The mother then carries them in her mouth and lays them in a sunny patch well hidden in the undergrowth, and there they are left to bask in the sun and grow strong bones. The two parents prowl about restlessly until it is time for the cubs to go indoors. If a human approaches the sunparlour, the mother deliberately attracts his attention and leads him elsewhere; the father remains with the cubs to fight for them if necessary. If the den is discovered, the parents at once carry the cubs to the hidden second one by a roundabout route, and the female may at once dig a third den. There is no trouble to winch she will not go for the sake of her offspring. Both of the parents share in the feeding and teaching of the cubs. After fourteen days of sun treatment the cubs can walk unaided, and their education in food-gathering begins at once by easy stages. They are fully grown by October, and then the family breaks up lor ever. The young coyotes make, homes for themselves in holes in the rocks, and they will not bother to dig a den until they mate. Rarely do they travel far, being con tent to range over an area of ten nines in summer, and perhaps twenty miles in winter when food is more scarce. They are sociable creatures, and although they do not hunt in packs like wolves, their ranges overlap, lliey do not range to the exclusion of their own kind; 1 have seen as many as six coyotes in the same district. On moon light nights one coyote will caterwaul and other of his kind will add then solos to make the night hideous; such efforts usually last about thirty minutes only, except in the case oi grief. I have known one female to howi for three nights because her cubs had been killed. But on special occasions usually at the time of full .moon, the soloists collect on a choir-loft aim chant in unison. Fearing reprisals from wrathful humans, they never ust the same choir-loft two nights in suecession. As a rule they become active after sunset and go to bed at dawn: but I have often seen them creeping through the woods during the daytime in winter. 1