April 21, 1894. J 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



3SS 



THE WOLVERINE AT HOME. 



Although most of the better known quadrupeds and 

 birds of this country are frequently discoursed upon, and 

 many curious and interesting accounts of adventure with 

 them are related, there is one animal of which we rarely 

 see mention made of in print. This is the wolverine or 

 North American glutton. 



During several years' wanderings in some of the wildest 

 sections of the Northwest, I have been brought in con- 

 tact with various individuals of this most interesting 

 species. Hunting the wolverine has, at different times, 

 afforded me some of the keenest pleasure, besides supply- 

 ing matter for both surprise and reflection, for there is no 

 member of the Carnivora inhabiting the continent that is 

 of more absorbing interest. Most works on natural 

 history give the inquiring mind but scant information re- 

 garding it, stating merely that it is known in Europe as 

 the glutton, belongs to the Mustelidce or weasel family, 

 and is a great nuisance to the fur hunters of the far West, 

 owing to its annoying way of robbing their traps. From 

 this source one gains little insight into the, true nature of 

 the wolverine, but in the course of a winter passed in the 

 Cascade Mountains I received considerable enlightenment 

 on the subject, and these experiences may perhaps be 

 worth relating. 



Although several thousand wolverine skins are annually 

 disposed of at the London fur sales, none but the hunters 

 themselves can conceive the 

 wonderful cunning and match- 

 less audacity displayed by 

 these animals in their natural 

 home. In appearance a wolver- 

 ine strongly resembles a small 

 short-legged brown bear, with 

 which ppecies it is frequently 

 supposed to be connected. This 

 is erroneous inasmuch as the 

 animal is the largest member of 

 the weasel tribe, a good speci- 

 men measuring 4£ft. from tip to 

 tip. It is conrpactly and power- 

 fully built and possesses amazing 

 strength, while for courage and 

 bulldog tenacity of purpose, it 

 has no equal. It will fight, 

 when cornered, to its very last 

 breath, and no other animal ap- 

 proaching its size will attack it. 

 Although a slow runner the 

 wolverine is very agile and an 

 excellent tree climber, and it is 

 partly on this account that cre- 

 dence has been given to many 

 wonderful stories of its habit of 

 lying in wait for its prey. It has 

 even been asserted that the elk 

 and moose were dropped upon 

 from above and thus attacked 

 and overcome, but these "yarns" 

 have been exaggerated. The 

 truth is, animals of that size 

 are far beyond the wolverine's 

 strength, as it is exceptional for 

 . one to reach the weight of 601bs. 



In the fall of 1891 I found my- 

 self at Lake Chelan in the new 

 State of Washington. The ex- 

 treme beauty of the place, its 

 fine climate, and the excellence 

 of the hunting said to be ob- 

 tained there, all proved strongly 

 attractive to me, and I decided 

 to spend the winter at a spot 

 some fifty miles up the lake, in 

 company with a hunter and 

 mountain man of life-long expe- 

 rience. The location selected 

 was on a flat bar of 150 acres or 

 so, which had formed at the 

 mouth of a deep canon that ex- 

 tended about twenty miles back 



into the great Cascade Mountain range, and down this 

 gorge coursed the foaming torrent of a stream fed by the 

 glaciers and snow banks on the mountain summits which 

 here mingled with the deep clear waters of Chelan. To 

 the left of the bar, when looking up the canon, stood a 

 solitary mountain some 2,000ft. high and removed a mile 

 or more from the main range, and in this space was a 

 small lake about two miles in length and possibly half a 

 mile wide. It was at an altitude of nearly a thousand 

 feet above its larger neighbor. The shores were thickly 

 timbered to the water's edge, and the surrounding 

 mountain slopes were covered with a heavy growth of fir 

 and pine, and a dense forest of cedar stood at the upper 

 end of the lake. My friend Shannon and I had deter- 

 mined to try fur hunting, and as this seemed a promising: 

 bit of country from a trapper's point of view, I resolved 

 to string my line of traps through it, while my companion 

 handled the wooded slopes on the other side of the canon. 



We built our cabin down on the bar, and by the first of 

 October it was completed, and a supply of provisions con- 

 sisting of flour, groceries and vegetables, laid in. For 

 fresh meat we were to depend upon our rifles, and we 

 calculated on having a sufficiency of everything for the 

 entire winter, and nothing now remained but to spend a 

 few days in hunting deer, as we needed meat for ourselves 

 and bait for our traps, and venison would supply both. 



We soon discovered that, as a hunting country, our new 

 location was greatly over-rated. In fact, deer were very 

 scarce and they stayed so high up on the mountains that 

 we hunted for two days with but little success, except for 

 some blue grouse, which seemed quite plentiful. "Heads 

 or nothing," was the word then, and heads generally 

 went, for when shot in the body by one of our rifles most 

 of the bird disappeared into space, leaving little but a 

 bunch of feathers with a hole in it. Late on the after- 

 noon of the third day, however, I saw a young buck on a 

 little bench in some heavy timber. He was looking 

 directly at me and was not more than 70yds. away, and 

 at the sharp clear crack of my rifle he gave a couple of 

 wild plunges down hill and fell dead. The bullet had 

 passed nearly through him, endways, and we were no 



longer troubled about the question of fresh meat. Now 

 came the most important part of our work, that upon 

 which depended the question of success or failure, i, e., 

 the putting out and baiting of our traps. We each pos- 

 sessed considerable knowledge of our work and thought 

 that we had little to learn about the trapping of the fur- 

 bearing animals of the Washington forest, but this con- 

 fidence in our powers was somewhat misplaced, as we 

 were destined to find out in a most convincing manner. 



The day after the killing of the deer we took with us 

 an axe, hatchet and a load of traps and bait, and, climb- 

 ing the steep trail that led up to the little lake, we made 

 our first attempt just beyond the ridge. Collecting 

 a number of light poles 8 or 9ft. long, we built up an 

 open pen shaped like the letter V, and about 2ft. high at 

 the angle. This was roofed over with small fir boughs 

 for 3ft. or so from the angle, and under this covering was 

 a stake, placed as far back in the pen as possible. On the 

 stake was impaled apiece of venison, and about 6in. in 

 front of this bait we set the trap, which had been pre- 

 viously attached by its chain to a heavy drag pole, usually 

 a 4ft. piece of green fir. Then the trap was carefully 

 covered with light moss or dead grass cut up short, and 

 everything was ready for the expected visitors. 



My line led down into the dense brush at the head of 

 the little lake where we placed another one: we had also 

 to clear a trail here in order to travel. Then through 

 some little openings in the forest and on to a long grassy 

 open slough or hay meadow, along which my trail went, 

 and this brought us to the heavy belt of cedar through 

 which a small stream meandered. Beyond the cedar 

 swamp was the wooded base of the main mountain, 



A MAINE WHITE DEER. 

 Killed at Lobster Lake, Maine, October, 1893. 



broken into numerous ravines and ridges and thickly 

 strewn with fallen timber to the very edge of the river 

 canon. Here we set the last trap, having placed my line 

 of fourteen at intervals of a quarter of a mile or so, 

 besides putting one down on the bar where the cabin 

 stood, and, after setting out Shannon's line of sixteen in 

 the same manner, we were ready for business. 



It shortly became manifest that, although deer were 

 scarce, other animals of more importance to us were 

 fairly plentiful, the beautiful little pine marten predomi- 

 nating, and soon everything was working nicely. The 

 heavy snows back in the mountains commenced to drive 

 the deer down and Shannon killed two fine bucks on his 

 line, while I floored another on the further end of mine, 

 and by the end of November our string of furs began to 

 assume a very handsome appearance. Several bunches of 

 marten furs, four fine fisher skins, two foxes and a lynx 

 were hanging in the cabin. We also saved our deer hides 

 and tacked them on the walls in company with those of a 

 black bear and two white goats, and the interior of our 

 log house became quite attractive. The snow gradually 

 got deeper, and by December it was three feet in depth 

 around the little lake, but we kept our trails open by con- 

 tinual traveling until they were beaten hard and firm. 



We usually visited our traps twice or thrice a week, and 

 one day after a light fall of snow I noticed the track of a 

 large animal. It crossed my trail just beyond the cedar 

 swamp, and after making a short detour, re-entered and 

 followed it, soon coming to a pen. But however effica- 

 cious this proved in catching other fur-bearing animals, it 

 was plainly evident that it would not work with this fel- 

 low, for a mound of dirty snow, round behind, told its own 

 tale. The visitor had burrowed beneath the poles, ab- 

 stracted the bait and made off with it, and a smooth hol- 

 low in the snow a short distance away with blood stains 

 and a few fragments of bone explained the rest, for there 

 he had made his meal. 



It was a wolverine, of course. Both the tracks and the 

 work told me that, and the next three traps had fared no 

 better, for two were snapped and the third held the 

 remains of a mouse and all the baits were gone, but the 



last one on the line was untouched. It was also clear to 

 me that not one, but two or three of these gentry had 

 come in company, and the question now was, how to be 

 ready for them in the future, for I was confident they 

 would repeat their visit. Fortunately the last pen con- 

 tained a large-sized bait, so I divided it up into smaller 

 ones and re-set my traps, and in order to prevent a 

 repeti tion of the burrowing process, I cut thick stakes with 

 my hatchet and drove them deep into the ground along 

 the outside of the poles and returned home with but one 

 marten for my day's work and with a vague presentiment 

 that my new friends would cause trouble in some manner 

 or other before long. 



Next day I took a fresh supply of bait and attended to 

 the other three traps besides making the pens narrower, 

 and over our pipes that evening the subject was discussed. 

 Shannon had heard something of these tricks, he said, 

 but had caught wolverines in Idaho and had no great 

 bother with them, although he admitted that he might 

 have something to learn yet, in which I fully agreed with 

 him. He also expressed a wish to see some of their work, 

 as we decided that should any more such thefts occur he 

 should accompany me one day and investigate matters. 



Several heavy snowstorms now came, keeping us within 

 doors for nearly a week, and then the weather cleared; 

 but 2ft. of new snow made walking extremely hard, as 

 we had no snowshoes. Taking a shovel with me I man- 

 aged to clear eight of my traps and get them in order 

 again, for the entrance to the pens was sometimes drifted 

 full of snow, notwithstanding the shelter afforded by the 

 overhanging branches of the trees, under which we 

 always placed them. At dusk I reached the cabin re- 

 . solved to go again next day and 



attend to the remainder. That 

 night was clear, and the stars 



=— , an( * a y° un S moon shone out 



I •'M'i'" Ti brightly— a good night for fur 



to run, we thought — and next 

 morning found us both on the 

 warpath again, each on his own 

 line. I got a fine large marten 

 at my first trap down on the 

 bar, which seemed to be doing 

 very well, as I had caught four 

 there so far, but the next five 

 traps were untouched save for a 

 squirrel, which was utilized as 

 bait, but on approaching the 

 last one reached the day before, 

 a great shambling track was 

 seen close by and a few scattered 

 blue feathers and a missing bait 

 showed that chance had foiled 

 me this time. A thieving jay 

 had been caught and served to 

 sharpen the appetite of a hungry 

 wolverine, and not content with 

 that morsel the brute had also 

 devoured the bait. However, 

 anticipating this, I had brought 

 some more in my knapsack, and 

 after replacing it with a fresh 

 piece I proceeded on my way, 

 taking the shovel with me. The 

 trees were heavily laden with 

 snow, presenting a most beauti- 

 ful appearance, and now and 

 then some over-taxed limb would 

 release its burden and a dense 

 feathery mass would descend in 

 a momentary storm from which 

 I occasionally received the bene- 

 fit. But my attention was fully 

 occupied with the signs on the 

 white carpet underfoot, for night 

 prowlers had evidently been out 

 m force, and a little band of 

 wolverines had been traveling 

 in every direction. To the un- 

 initiated it would seem as if 

 there had been a dozen of them, 

 but I knew that only three or 

 four had made the tracks, and 

 their object had been the same 

 as before, i. e., to rob my traps, 

 and in thi3 they had succeeded 

 most admirably, as everything was in their favor. A 

 marten lay dead in one, killed by a bite across the 

 shoulders but not eaten, as its flesh is not liked by them 

 and is rarely touched. Another trap contained the paw 

 of a fisher, being all that was left. This was going to 

 extremes, as fisher skins were valuable and very scarce 

 hereabouts, and this act made me more anxious than 

 ever to catch the perpetrator, and I also found that 

 another pen had been entered from the side — there being 

 a wider space than usual between the poles — and of 

 course despoiled in the usual way, so I once more went to 

 work to make things secure. Every open space was 

 stopped by driving in stout fir stakes, and all weak look- 

 ing places were reinforced in the same manner, and it 

 really looked to me as if no animal could possibly reach 

 the bait in the last six pens without going in at the front. 

 The other traps nearer home were not molested, as the 

 marauders confined their attentions to those in the cedars 

 and along the foot of the mountain, and then retreated 

 to their haunts in the almost inaccessible recesses of the 

 rocks and dense brush and timber away back up the 

 canon, emerging at intervals of a week or so to feast at 

 my expense, it seemed. This was getting exasperating, 

 as we were doing quite well otherwise, and it made us all 

 the more anxious to add a wolverine skin or two to our 

 collection if only for the sake of variety. 



Another heavy snowstorm now came and for several 

 day 8 neither of us went away from the house. Then we 

 started in company one fine morning for the cedar swamp, 

 clearing the pens of snow as we proceeded, and by noon 

 we reached the scene of operations. A glance told us 

 there had been trouble in one bait house anyway. The 

 roof was partly torn off and a hole appeared in the side of 

 the pen, and the trap, a single spring No. H, was dragged 

 through as far as the chain would allow, but it was empty. 

 The heavy weight of snow held the drag pole firmly down 

 and the wolverine's great strength had enabled him to 

 pull his foot out and escape, which it could never have 

 done had the clog been loose. However, this was en- 

 couraging, so we proceeded on our way, seeing no tracks, 

 as this had occurred before the last snow fell, but a sur- 



