GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



Jan. 15. 



WOLVES AND WILDCATS. 



SOME "lively" experiences. 

 By E. France. 



Forty-one years ago this winter I went from 

 the State oi New York to live in Iowa. I was 

 then 32 years old. I settled on the east bank of 

 the DesMoines River, 27 miles above Ft. Dodge. 

 There were very few settlers there at that 

 time. I took up a quarter-section of govern- 

 ment land, built a log house, and worked on the 

 farm summers and trapped winters. Wild 

 animals were plentiful there at that time. 



The first and second year that 1 was there 

 we had very hard winters— cold, and deep 

 snows. The wolves hovered around the settle- 

 ments in hopes to get something to eat. I 

 would see them almost every day— single, or 

 two or more together. At one time I saw 13 in a 

 drove. At another time I wounded a deer just 

 at dusk, but did not get it that night. I went 

 the next morning to find it. I found its bones, 

 but all the meat was gone. Away from the 

 bones ran a troop of wolves and foxes. They 

 ran across the narrow river bottom and up on 

 the grassy bluff, then stopped to look. I count- 

 ed 32 wolves and a few foxes, so you see there 

 were plenty of wolves in the country. Were 

 they dangerous to human life? Not much 

 danger from a single one; but when in packs 

 they were a litttle risky. 



There were five persons killed by them in 

 Iowa in the winter of 18.56. But the trappers 

 soon thinned them out. 



The second winter that I was there I got a 

 little scared one night when I was trapping up 

 a creek near my place. I would go up as far as 

 I could, and get home in one day. I wanted to 

 go farther up the creek, so I took some bed- 

 quilts and something to eat, intending to go up 

 as far as I could, stay over night, and come 

 back the next day. I went up about 15 miles. 

 The upper part of the creek was all prairie. 

 After I got above where I had trapped I found 

 a large beaver settlement among the ponds. 

 There were three quite large willow- trees, 

 about 25 feet high. I thought that would be a 

 good place to camp near those trees. In case 

 the wolves got after me In the night 1 could 

 climb the trees. But I had a few traps yet 

 not set, and I wanted to see more of the 

 creek further up; so I went on up five miles 

 further, and got all of my traps set. Then 

 by the side of a beaver-pond, in a little clump 

 of small willows, I fixed my camp. I cut with 

 my knife a large bunch of dry grass for my bed, 

 wrapped my blankets about me and lay down 

 to sleep, and was soon dreaming about wolves 

 gathering to devour me. I woke up, and, sure 

 enough, the wolves were howling in every di- 

 rection. I was sorry that I had not stopped 

 down by those three willow-trees. In fact, I 

 was quite uneasy. But I could not reach the 



trees now, and made up my mind to stand my 

 ground. This was in November. The ponds 

 were not frozen over, and the' grass was not 

 burned off. I had no gun, but had a good 

 hatchet and knife, and a big dog. I could set 

 the dry grass afire if I must, but did not want 

 to if I could help it. The wolves came nearer, 

 and appeared to be more of them. The dog 

 growled and barked. Pretty soon the wolves 

 stopped howling. Were they sneaking in on 

 me, or had they given up the job? I lay there. 

 The moon came up. The dog went to sleep, 

 and so did I. I heard no more of the wolves. 

 I got up at daybreak, ate my breakfast, and 

 started down the creek to see my traps. The 

 first trap I came to, set for a mink, baited with 

 beaver-meat, had a wolf in it. I skinned it, 

 and skinned three more near there. I have 

 thought, since then, those four wolves getting 

 trapped that night saved me, or, at least, saved 

 me a fight with them. I stayed in my camp 

 there several nights after that, but was not dis- 

 turbed again. 



The next winter I trapped on the same creek 

 again, but had a horse to ride, and many a 

 chase I had that winter after wolves on the 

 prairie— not much snow. My dog was a large 

 half-breed grayhound, and liked the sport as 

 well as I did. The horse was a good runner, 

 and liked the fun too. The wolves would be 

 lying in bunches of unburned grass; and 

 when I came near they would start out, then 

 here we would go. I seldom ran over a mile — 

 usually not over half a mile. The dog would 

 stop the wolf and fight him. I would come up 

 soon, and with my hatchet finish the wolf, skin 

 it, and then go on. Sometimes the horse would 

 see the wolf first. He would then jump ahead 

 so suddenly that I would be thrown back be- 

 hind the saddle; and once I remember I went 

 clear back over the horse's tail on to the ground. 

 I alighted on my feet, but was soon in the 

 saddle again in full chase after the wolf. 



I will tell you a little laughable story of a 

 wildcat capture. I was trapping on the Little 

 Sioux River in the winter time, in company 

 with a young man. We had caught several cats 

 in our traps. One day, after a little fall of 

 snow, we were walking up the river on the ice. 

 We saw a cat's track going up the river, and 

 we followed it. It went straight up the steep 

 bank of the river, and went into a hole under a 

 coitonwood-tree. As I had a trap with me I 

 went up to the hole to set it to catch the cat 

 when it came out. I had my gun in my hands, 

 and I poked the muzzle intothehole, and putmy 

 head partly into the hole to see what I could 

 see in there. It so happened that the hole went 

 back only about six feet. The cat was back in 

 the further end. It being dark in there, or 

 may be I was snow-blind, I did not see the cat 

 at first; but soon my eyes began to see, and 

 just then I saw two bright eyes, and heard a 



