CHAPTER XIII
BIG WOLVES
It happened the next day that Jack was riding circle on the far sideof the ground that was being covered. Almost all day he rode withoutseeing any cattle, and it was well along in the afternoon when he cameup to the top of a ridge and stopped his horse just before he reachedits crest. Here he dismounted and, walking up, peeped over to see whatthere might be on the other side. This of course was not at all whatmost cowboys would have done, but the habits of caution taught Jack byHugh in the early days of his travels in the West were too firmly fixedto be overcome, and when alone Jack always looked over a hill in thisway.
Rather to his surprise he saw down in a little flat, five hundred yardsaway, a small bunch of cattle--perhaps eighteen or twenty head. Thiswas a surprise, partly because he had seen none during the day, butchiefly because the cattle were close bunched, as if brought togetherby a herder. For an instant he did not comprehend what this meant, butthen his eye caught two gray animals--big wolves--which were slowlywalking about the herd. Evidently the cattle had come together forprotection, and were standing there, heads out, ready to repel anattack if it should be made on them. Jack felt that he ought to ridedown and drive off the wolves and bring the cattle in, but, on theother hand, he was very curious to see what the wolves would do. Morethan once he had seen coyotes trying to take from a cow a young calfthat was by her side, but this was the first time he had seen bigwolves round up cattle. He waited, therefore, to see what would happen,thinking that after a little while the wolves would probably give upthe job and go off in search of some single animal which they couldrun down and kill, as he had once seen them do on his way out from therailroad to his uncle's ranch.
For two or three minutes nothing happened, and the wolves continuedto walk around the bunch. Then, suddenly, one of them made a dash atthe bunch of cattle, going so close to them that Jack expected to seethe wolf caught on a steer's horns and thrown into the air. When thewolf rushed up, the bunch of cattle seemed to tremble; that is to say,there was apparently a slight movement by every individual in the herd,and Jack recalled similar movements which he had seen years before inBritish Columbia among a school of salmon far below the surface of thewater, when some one darted down toward the fish a spear which nearlyreached them. It seemed to him that every animal yielded a little, yetno one of them perhaps moved more than six or eight inches.
A moment or two later one of the wolves made another rush, which wasfollowed by a similar slight movement of the bunch; and then the wolvescontinued their slow march about the cattle. This happened severaltimes, but at last when the wolf dashed toward the bunch, one animal--afull-grown one--burst out of the herd and started to run. In an instantthe wolf was behind it, between it and the other cattle; and a momentlater the second wolf had joined the first one, and they loped quietlyalong after the single animal. Presently, running side by side, theydrew up close to its heels, and then, separating, one of them made avicious snap at the cow's leg while the other sprang and caught it inthe flank; and in an instant, too quickly for Jack to see how it wasdone, the beast was on its side and the wolves were tearing at itsbelly. Jack jumped to his horse and rode over the ridge, charging downtoward the wolves. They paid no attention to him until he was withinless than a hundred yards, and then, suddenly looking up, they gallopedaway. He fired four or five shots after them, but without result.
The animal that they had pulled down was a two-year-old heifer, big,strong and fat. Her whole flank was torn out, and she was dead. Therewas nothing to be done with her. The brand was not one with which Jackwas familiar, and he thought she was a stray from some distant ranch.He drove the remaining cattle slowly toward camp, and after a time metsome of the other boys bringing in another bunch, and turned his inwith theirs.
That night, after supper, he talked with Hugh about the wolves and theharm they did, and also about the tremendous power that seemed to bewrapped up in one of those not very large hides. Hugh had seen wolvespull down cattle, and had a great respect for the way in which theseanimals were able to supply themselves with food.
"You know more about big wolves, son, than most men do," said Hugh."You've picked up what we can all see on the prairie here; and, besidesthat, you've had a tame wolf of your own. I reckon that you found,after you got to know him well, that your wolf was just nothing but abig dog--bigger and stronger, and ten times more enduring, of course,than any dog you ever saw, but still just pretty nearly plain dog. Ofcourse he and his father and grandfathers for a good many generationshad always been wild dogs, but up to within a few generations wolveswere no more afraid of people--in this country, I mean--than they wereof any other animals. You see in old times Indians never chased wolves,or frightened them at all. They did kill some, but they didn't kill 'emin a way to scare 'em. I reckon I've told you already--if not I, theBlackfeet have told you--about how the Indians used to catch wolves inold times. If the Blackfeet haven't described it to you, you surelymust have had some stories told you that explained how they caught 'em."
"Why, yes, Hugh," Jack replied, "I remember one such story; but I neverthought to ask much about how they caught wolves--they spoke aboutsetting snares around the _pis'kun_ and catching the wolves in thisway, but I didn't ask much about it."
"That's just what they used to do. You see, there were always holesleft in the _pis'kun_ walls, mostly small holes, and throughthese holes the wolves and coyotes used to go into the _pis'kun_to feed on the carcasses or the offal that was left there after thebutchering. Well, the people liked wolf skins: they used them forrobes, or for hats, or to cut up into wide strips to sew on the edgesof a buffalo robe to make it look nice; and so around these holes theyused to set loops of sinew with a running knot. When the wolf wassqueezing through a hole he would put his head through one of thesenooses and, drawing it up, would choke to death in no time at all.Catching wolves in this way didn't scare 'em and they were always verytame."
"But, Hugh, I should think that after a while all the wolves in acertain section of the country would have been killed off."
"Not a bit of it," declared Hugh. "Wolves were great travelers and usedto follow the buffalo around, especially in winter. When buffalo wereplenty they really didn't have to do any hunting to amount to anything;they would just wait around the edge of the herd. Animals wereconstantly getting hurt--bulls were fighting; calves getting trampledon; buffalo of all sizes were getting drowned when crossing the stream,or being mired down in some soap hole. I tell you, the wolves lived fatin those days, especially along the Missouri River. Mr. Sturgis told meone time about reading in the book that Lewis and Clark wrote, tellingthe story of their trip up the Missouri River, that about one buffalopound they came to, wolves were so plenty and so gentle that one of themen killed one with a kind of spear that they carried. The wolf let theman walk right up to him."
"Yes, I remember that story," said Jack. "I remember it because thebook says that the man killed the wolf with an espontoon. I didn't knowwhat that was, and it took me quite a little time to find out. It seemsit's a kind of halberd--a sort of cross between a spear and an ax.Anyhow, it had a long handle."
"Well, of course," commented Hugh, "when a man can get close enough toan animal to stick a spear into it, the animal isn't what you'd callshy."
"I should say not," answered Jack.
"Well," Hugh said, "I was talking about the wolf being a big dog. Youknow, I reckon, that wolves and dogs will cross."
"Yes; I've read that in books a good many times; and the books talkabout Indian dogs being like wolves. I remember the first day I cameout to Swift Water, the time that Uncle Will killed the bear, I saw acoyote, and when I saw him, I thought it was an Indian dog, and thatthere must be a camp of Indians somewhere near."
"I remember," chuckled Hugh; "I remember that day well. You certainlyhad a lot of excitement that day, considering how old you were, andwhere you came from."
"Didn't I! I tell you, those ear
ly days were mighty exciting."
"More so than anything that's likely to happen to you again out in thiscountry," drawled Hugh.
"You were saying that the wolves were dogs; and I know that's just whatSwiftfoot always seemed to be. He would get scared like a dog; whenhe was pleased he would wag his tail and lay back his ears and showhis teeth like a dog; if I took him out in the country and turned himloose, he hunted like a dog; and finally, when he got lost and couldnot see me, he became confused and lost his wits like a dog."
"Well, I've seen a lot of half-breed wolves, and if these half-breedsget away, and become wild, they're worse than the wolves themselves;they're a good deal smarter, and it seems as if they were hungrier,and they certainly have plenty of courage. I never saw many of thesehalf-breeds that had gone wild, but I do remember one bunch down nearthe Dismal River, in Nebraska, that certainly made a lot of trouble.Old Lute North killed a number of 'em, and I got the story from him,and got it straight, and if you'd care to hear it, I'll tell it to you."
"Sure, Hugh, I'd give anything to hear it."
"Well," said Hugh, "this is what Captain North told me. It didn'thappen so very long ago. It seems that one fall Major Frank Northbrought up to the ranch at the head of the Dismal River a big mongreldog that some one in Columbus had given him. The dog was big and black,that's about all you could say about him. His hair was longish--not solong as that of a Newfoundland, but a good deal longer than that of aGreat Dane. In fact, he looked as if he might be a cross between thosetwo breeds.
"About the middle of that winter this dog went off from the ranch onenight with a big gray wolf, and the next morning Lute followed theirtracks in the snow for several miles, but could not find them. The dogwas never seen again, and Lute always believed that the wolves killedhim, for he saw places in the snow on the trail where the dog and awolf had fought.
"Next spring, Al Pratt, one of the cow punchers at the Cody and Northranch, saw an old she-wolf traveling and seven puppies following her.Four of these puppies were black, and three were gray. Al chased thewolves and managed to get close enough to them to kill two of the blackones. All through the summer the others were seen now and then, butnobody could get near enough to get a shot at them. That fall BillBurke, another puncher, shot and killed one of the gray puppies, andthat winter a trapper poisoned the other gray ones. The only ones ofthe family now left were the mother and two black puppies, but theywere a fearful trouble on the range. They would kill stock of allkinds. They were just as ready to take a steer as a calf, and Lute toldme that one time he found where they'd killed a cow, a two-year-old anda yearling in one day. They were very shy and always on the lookout,and they seemed never to go back to the animal that they had killed fora second meal, so it was impossible to poison them. Lute said, too,that there was a band of six or eight coyotes traveling around behind'em, and that after the wolves had eaten all they wanted when theykilled, then the coyotes had their chance.
"Lute told me that he hunted those wolves a good many days; and, ofcourse, bein' out riding all the time, and all the time on the lookout,and bein' the kind of a shot he is, it seemed pretty sure that finallyhe would get 'em.
"When he did get his shot, it was just by accident. He was hunting abig black-tail deer, creeping along the ground and trying to get withinshot, when he saw one of the black half-breeds standing on a sand-hillnearly a mile away. He watched him, and after a time the wolf lay down.Then Lute began to hunt him, and I expect he did some mighty carefulhunting. Anyhow, he told me it took him a couple of hours to get tothe foot of the hill they were on. The hill was steep, and you mayguess something about what it is to climb one of those steep hills inthat sand. I reckon Lute was about out of wind when he stopped to gethis breath. He stood looking toward the top of the hill, when the oldmother wolf, who was lying in a sand blow-out, raised up and stood withher fore feet on the bank looking down at him.
"There wasn't any time to think, and he jerked his rifle to hisshoulder and fired, and she disappeared. He scrambled up the hill asfast as he could, and when he got to where he could look over, he couldsee the two black wolves going down the side of the hill. They werejumping up on their hind legs and looking back for their mother.
"As soon as Lute came in sight they began to run, and he shot at oneof them just as they were passing out of sight. A moment later oneof them came in sight again and Lute shot at him. That fellow keptrunning for perhaps a quarter of a mile, and then settled down into awalk, and Lute knew that he was hit. He sat and watched until the wolfdisappeared in some low sand-hills, and then went back to the blow-outwhere he had seen the old wolf, and there she was. This hole was aboutthree feet deep and it was all Lute could do to lift her out. He saidshe was the biggest wolf he'd ever seen. He now got his horse and wentafter the wounded one. Finally he found him, and after running him acouple of miles killed him. The other black one was never seen againafter that, and it's probable that Lute killed him with his second shot.
"Lute told me that he counted something like seventy head of cattlethat he knew they had killed that one winter. When Lute killed the oldmother and the black fellows, that bunch of coyotes was close to them.He saw them run away from the hill. The black wolf looked just aboutlike a wolf, with a sharp nose and sharp ears. He measured seven feetfrom the tip of his nose to the tip of his tail."
"That's one of the most interesting stories I've ever heard, Hugh; andpeople who don't know anything about animals, I expect, would hardlybelieve it."
"That's so," said Hugh. "When you're talking to people about somethingthat they don't know anything about, they're likely to think thatyou're stringing 'em. You see most of us measure up everything we hearby what we've seen, or what we've heard and believe to be true; andwhen we hear anything outside of that little narrow range, we're mightylikely to think that people are lying to us."
"Of course, that's so," Jack assented. "I know sometimes back East I'vetold about common everyday things that happened here, and the peopleI was talking to thought at first that I was just inventing stories.Have you seen a great many of these half-breed wolves? I mean crossedbetween a dog and big wolves, not coyotes?"
"Yes," said Hugh; "in my time I've seen quite a number; but most of 'emhad been brought up at home with their mothers. They were always timidand afraid of strangers, but they never did any particular harm aroundthe house, except maybe to kill chickens, or something like that. Ofcourse, a wolf--or a dog either, for the matter of that--always likesto hunt; and if anything runs, it's bound to chase it. You recollect,I reckon, some tame coyotes that Charley Powell had one while severalyears ago, and don't you remember that he had to kill one of thembecause it got into the way of killing his chickens?"
"That's so," answered Jack; "I remember that now. But I never heardthat those big wolves he and Bessie had ever did any harm."
"No," replied Hugh, "neither did I."
Tulare Joe, who had been sitting by listening to this talk, now asked aquestion.
"Mr. Johnson, have you ever seen any black wolves in this country?"
"Not in this country; but way farther south I saw one once; and downthere they have red wolves, as you've probably seen yourself. I sawblack wolf skins out on the Coast."
"Yes," said Joe, "down in Texas I've seen red wolves myself, but itdidn't look to me as if they were as big as these gray wolves that wehave up in this country. Anyhow, down in the southern country most ofthe animals like those we have up here seem much smaller: the deer aresmaller, and it seems to me that the wolves and the antelope don't runso large. The jack-rabbits, though, are bigger; but then they're notjust like our jack-rabbits up here--they're some different."
By this time the fire was burning low and the boys were leaving itto spread down their beds at different points on the prairie. Thediscussion of wolves was given up. Hugh smoked a last pipe, andpresently they all went to bed.
Jack the Young Cowboy: An Eastern Boy's Experiance on a Western Round-up Page 15