Lonewolf
"Lonewolf" is a common expression but interestingly enough it is not generally applicable to wolves.
Extremely social, wolves generally live in packs or groups according to strict social order, surviving the rigors of the wilderness depends entirely on cooperation (in caring for the pups and in hunting).
It has been well documented that the young are the main focus of the pack, with this in mind we too should follow these teachings of the wolf in rearing and caring for our young.
In the scope of my travels throughout the Alaskan bush, I have had many breath taking observations of wolves running silently through the sparse mountain foliage with the grace of speed and awareness that they are a formidable team, interdependent, loyal and distinctly elegant.
It has further been documented by noted wolf biologists and wildlife scientists that a wolf trots along at approximately 5 miles per hour and can do so for a half day without tiring, then can easily lope after its discovered prey at five times that speed, finally galloping and bounding at more than 30 miles per hour to attempt capture. I have personally observed that the semicrusted snow hinders the pursued more seriosly than the pursuer.
I have observed the resident wolf pack traveling the same basic patrol routes while investigating various game trails that criss cross the route at short intervals, or as it appeared to me. I have crossed several well used wolf patrol routes on several occasions only to find myself wondering what red flags went up on the return of the wolf. Do you think they knew I was there?
I witnessed only one kill and that was a cow Caribou. The Caribou kill involved a lunging run of less than a thousand yards. The kill appeared to depend less on endurance than a sudden, short dash, with success hinging on surprise, teamwork and strategy. I cannot comment on the condition of the kill but from my observation point, the cow appeared to be healthy before the celebration of death.
From my position on the knoll, I observed a cow caribou to be trotting along the opposite side of the river basin. I quickly unslung and mounted my spotting scope on the ferring of my snowmachine. I had seen a small gathering of Caribou in the frozen river basin a few days earlier and returned to harvest.
As I watched the cow caribou and wondering where the rest of the small barren ground herd was, I was surprised to see a lone wolf appear from virtually nowhere a considerable distance from the cow caribou. Then from what appeared to be a bench appeared several more wolves.
As I watched this drama unfolding before me, it appeared at first the cow caribou was unaware of the wolves presence. The wolves were silent as they rapidly closed the gap between the two. The cow now was vividly aware of the wolves presence and raced wildly into the open middle of the frozen river basin. She stopped several times as if she was not seriously threatened.
Her speed was becoming labored as the snow in the basin was blown deep, in places up to her belly. The cow now sensed an ambush I was sure.
Again to my surprise, more wolves appeared at a fast moving pace. I now counted eight wolves of various sizes and color variations in pursuit. As the wolves closed rapidly, the cow wheeling around in broken rapid circular motions upon being charged by the first wolf. She then stood her ground as this silent ceremony of death unfolded beneath me.
Then after stopping, the cow ran a few short yards at full stride to my surprise. It appeared that she would out distance the wolves, but she stopped so suddenly that the nearest pursuing wolves overran her and circled back.
It appeared to me that two or three dominant adult wolves seemed to participate in the initial drawing of blood. The remainder of the pack circled the disoriented cow, in silence, with tails waging while keeping their distance. A couple of the wolves appeared to be resting outside the circle. I use the term dominant as it appeared that these three attacking wolves were physically larger and absolutely more aggressive than the rest of the pack.
I am watching this saga with a B&L 60mm mounted spotting scope. More wolves arrived. I counted 11 wolves total now. At this point in time, under a clear crisp Arctic late afternoon sun, the wolf pack had the cow completely surrounded and had tightened the circle as if being coached.
The three attacking wolves had drawn deep blood, slaching at her flanks and hindquarters. The frozen crusty surface has now been trampled in circular patterns over several yards and bloodied at each place the cow had made a fruitless stand against a life-long enemy.
The cow bolted again, fruitless in her struggle, as she floundered in a deep snow drift. The wolves pursued. One wolf slashed at her side, spilling open her belly. The cow continued to struggle, remaning on her feet, again bolting a surprising distance of approximately 25-30 yards, dragging her entrails.
The end came quickly as more wolves slashed at her and she fell. But she then staggered to her feet during this last futile attempt at survival with at least three wolves clinging to her.
For my observation point, it appeared to me that massive damage had been inflicted by the wolves on the muscle structure of the cows hind legs.
But then a remarkable thing happened , just before the final kill of the cow. Both the cow and the wolves seperated for what seemed about five or six minutes at least. I was also breathing hard and steaming up my lens. At first I thought that the wolves may have been resting but now I am not so sure. All appeared to be deadly silent (no pun intended). I could see the heavy vapor trails of the cows last breaths.
The wolves and the caribou just looked at each other. Was this a part of their secret or part of the sacred celebration of death. I am not sure. I am sure that both knew that death was eminent. The wolves waited patiently. A few of the wolves even laid down with heads up and alert. The cow caribou huanched partially down on her hind quarters. I would not have imagined that she would try to right herself but she raised her head and struggled to no avail before dropping quite gently to her death bed to never rise again.
In the end of this evolution of nature that had unfolded before me lay the kill, in its simplicity.
This cow caribou, in her death, helped support a chain of life in a sometimes cruelly harsh winter ecology of the northern wilderness. Her carcass was utilized to the last shred of flesh by the wolf pack and other carnivores, as well as by scavenger birds. I returned several times to her death bed in my travels for a number of research and personal reasons during my frequent winter travel through this frozen river basin.
The plight of the wolf is certainly a struggle for survival. We are told that man himself is the wolves greatest threat. Maybe, maybe not.
IMAGINATION
Each and every time I have been allowed the treasured opportunity in which to observe the wolf in his work, I have felt natures work partially unfolding before me, stealing my imagination and drawing this recluse deeper into the wolf's magnificent wilderness.
Truely the spirit of the wolf is elusive and intoxicating. It is something more often felt within yourself than seen.
The graphic images encompassed within this brief web-site will provide an individual with the mental images that will haunt the spirit and the heart. So my friends, take a good look, close your eyes and pack-in with me. With a little imagination, just perhaps you too will feel the "Spirit of the Wolf".
LARGEST TRAPPED WOLF
Trapped by: U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service
Date of Trapping: Early Spring 1939
Location: East-Central Alaska
Species: Tundrawolf (exact sub-species not indicated)
Sex: Male
Weight: 175 1/4 lbs.
Trapping Method: Not Indicated
Reason for Trapping: Not indicated
Documentation: U.S Fish & Wildlife Service
WOLF SONG
In these times of disappearing wilderness, to have heard the howl of the wolf in back country is a memory to be cherished.
Not all wolves seem capable of barking, but many will answer a bark (or a crude human imitation) by howling. It is sometimes a challenge or an alarm call, but is also heard occasionaly at the beginning and the end of a communial howl.
The wolf song is a long monotone, lacking the "yapping" and tremolo of the coyote. It is similar to the howling of the Alaskan Malamute.
The howl of an individual adult wolf seldom lasts more than five seconds. I have heard distinctive howls of individual wolves which rise and fall, some retain a constant pitch, some rise and break off abruptly.
It is possible that one can imitate a wolf passably by howling like a dog or coyote. Wolves of the back country are likely to reply, particularly in late evening and early morning. Researchers have shown that wolves recognize the voices of the pack members. Certainly they are not fooled by us humans. They seem to answer out of curiosity.
Interestingly enough, it is illegal to imitate the howling of wolves within Yellowstone National Park. According to Rick McIntyre a park employee and author, "it's rude and a bit like pounding on someones door in the middle of the night", then saying, "Oh, I just wanted to see what you look like."
Wolves are territorial. A howl in the neighborhood tells them another pack could be intruding on their territory. Group howls are heard most often in the evening and to a lesser extent in the early morning.
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