1 8 ANIMAL ARTISANS 



by these marauders was, however, ultimately stopped 

 by other means." 



When Dr. Vaughan Cornish was on the Canadian 

 prairies studying the forms of snow and snow-waves, 

 which formed the subject of a paper read recently 

 before the Geographical Society, he observed that the 

 railroad had entirely altered the habits of the wolves 

 in winter. Formerly, in the days of the old waggon 

 teams and " prairie schooners," the wolves used to 

 follow the camps across to the great West, just as 

 they followed the buffalo herds, stealing all the stock 

 they could, and picking up the leavings of the camp 

 fires, and even eating the saddles and harness of the 

 mules. Now they come down to the Canadian Pacific 

 or the Grand Trunk line, and watch for the trains. 

 A trans-continental train is like a ship. Eating and 

 drinking must go on at regular hours. The passengers 

 consume three solid meals a day ; the black cooks and 

 waiters have theirs also ; and plenty of spare food, 

 bones, bread, and trimmings, is thrown overboard. In 

 the grey cold dawn the hungry coyotes, their tails 

 tucked between their shaking legs, may be seen stand- 

 ing in the snow, with their short ears pricked up like 

 an anxious terrier's, waiting to see what the morning's 

 " clear-up " of the cars will cause to be thrown out of 

 the windows for deserving prairie dwellers. Sometimes 

 a great grey wolf, the very personification of cold and 

 famine, is viewed sitting by a sage bush, in the drift 

 of snow powder lifted before the icy morning wind, 

 his long sharp nose uplifted in line with his spine, the 

 cutting blast ruffling up the fur on his back, waiting 



