July 6, 1912 
FOREST AND STREAM 
9 
Experiences with Wolves in Algonquin Park 
By MARK ROBINSON 
O VER thirty years ago my parents moved to 
the Nottawasaga Valley, Sirncoe county, 
Ontario. It was there, as a small boy, I 
heard wolves howling for the first time. The 
earlier settlers told blood-curdling stories about 
the slaughter of their sheep and cattle, also of 
encounters after dark, of nights spent in trees 
with a howling mob of wolves on guard at the 
roots of the trees, etc. As a child I listened to 
the stories and firmly believed them. But I 
never saw any evidence of their work and only 
heard them howling once in that locality. 
About five years ago I was appointed ranger 
on the Algonquin National Park staff. On re¬ 
porting for duty I was informed that one of my 
duties would be to destroy wolves. I was de¬ 
tailed to travel with the veteran ranger, Robert 
Balfour. We set out upon our mission, travel¬ 
ing on snowshoes, drawing our blankets and pro¬ 
visions on light hand sleighs. On our arrival 
at Boundary Lake shelter house, we at once got 
things in shape for the night, enjoyed our supper 
and settled down to read. After a short time 
a great howling commenced, apparently right out¬ 
side of our tent. Ranger Balfour picked up his 
rifle and went outside. I did likewise and 
thought there must be fully a hundred wolves. 
I was excited, cold shivers ran up and down 
my back, and I expected we were in for a good 
stiff fight. This was my first real experience; 
I had much to learn. Seeing nothing, we went 
inside and retired for the night. Many times 
during the night we were awakened by the 
howling. 
Next morning my companion said we must 
shoot a deer and get bait, which we did during 
the forenoon. In walking through the woods I 
was surprised to find that the wolves were fully 
a quarter of a mile away from our shelter house. 
Another strange thing we noticed was that num¬ 
bers of deer we saw were all traveling toward 
where the wolves were during the night. Later 
experience has proven that deer invariably do 
this. 
The following evening the wolves were around 
again, but we went to bed and slept soundly. In 
the morning we saw their tracks quite close to 
our hut. Leaving early, we crossed the rough 
country via Provocking Lake to Whitefish Lake 
and Shelter Hut. On the trail we found where 
one lone wolf had followed the trail for about 
seven miles. Later on I was to learn much of 
this old scamp. We arrived at'the shelter almost 
worn out. After a hearty supper we retired 
early. Next day we set several baits on White- 
fish and Kearney lakes. We saw wolf tracks 
everywhere, also the track of the lone wanderer. 
All winter we saw this lone track following 
our snow shoe trails from lake to lake. Around 
the lakes he fed upon bodies of deer killed by 
other wolves. On several occasions we saw 
where he had made short dashes after deer, but 
failed to come up with them; in fact, we never 
found a deer slaughtered that we could charge 
to his account. If we placed poison in the car¬ 
casses of deer we found killed, this old scamp 
knew it, and would leave evidence of his su¬ 
preme contempt on our baits.. Later on Dr. 
Long, the American naturalist, had a trial after 
the old scamp, with no better results, and named 
him the Lou Garou. Shortly after placing our 
first baits I grew impatient to visit them, feeling 
sure we would kill a dozen or more. Alas, I 
had to learn many things about the wolf. 
It was a full month afterward before we got 
one. It was a monster, measuring seven feet 
three inches from tip to tip (a female). While 
many baits were taken, this was the only wolf 
I got all winter, during which time I found 
thirty-one carcasses of deer killed by wolves, 
the greater number being does killed in the yards 
toward spring. 
The following winter I was stationed at Canoe 
Lake. There I saw the first pack of wolves— 
fourteen in number—come out on the lake at 
mid-day. They were 
following four deer 
that had made a dash 
across the ice to an 
island. The wolves 
were walking quite 
slowly and had be¬ 
gun to surround the 
island upon which 
the deer had taken 
refuge. I opened fire 
at 500 yards, wound¬ 
ing one at the first 
shot. The rest of the 
pack scattered in all 
directions, until the 
wounded wolf gave a 
peculiar howl, when 
the greater number 
returned to him and 
remained there until 
they reached the 
woods. I fired sev¬ 
eral more shots, but 
none took effect; evi¬ 
dently I was suffer¬ 
ing from buck fever. 
After lunch I left a note for my companion, 
who had not returned from his morning patrol, 
then I set out fully expecting to find my wounded 
wolf lying near where they entered the woods. 
I followed their trail all afternoon, only to find 
the other wolves had neither deserted nor eaten 
their wounded companion, who was going much 
stronger at dusk. I was some distance from 
the Shelter Hut, so turning toward the full moon 
rising over the hills, I retraced my steps home 
to find my companion preparing to come to my 
assistance. 
A few days afterward this entire pack took 
some of our bait. We were surprised to find 
where they all had convulsions, tearing up the 
snow and ground in every possible manner. A 
number of the wolves had lain upon the snow 
until fully six inches had melted under their 
bodies, until they lay upon the ground. Yet the 
entire pack got up and moved across a small 
lake where several of them had more fits. They 
all appeared to recover as we followed the r 
trail for two and a half days, at which time they 
were traveling and hunting deer as usual. We 
were astonished at the results. Our poison 
(strychnine) was good, as other wolves and 
foxes were easy victims, yet we had two similar 
experiences from the same poison with foxes 
afterward. 
About a month afterward several packs of 
wolves visited our section. We had orders to 
get a deer and get out more bait, consequently 
we got busy. Going down Canoe Lake we 
noticed the lone track of a medium sized wolf 
that had visited our old baits, showing his con¬ 
tempt in the usual manner. Reaching the foot 
of the lake I was to follow a ravine to the top 
of a large hill covered with hardwood timber, 
while my companion was to follow around the 
base of the hill and come up from the other 
sMe. He followed the trail of the lone wolf 
which was going in his direction. I walked 
slowly up the ravine until near the crest of the 
hill, when 1 heard a scutter in the snow. Look¬ 
ing around I saw an object move and drop out 
of sight. Hurrying to the top of the hill I 
saw a deer raise its head and drop it again. I 
walked over and found it just dead. It had 
been killed by the lone wolf. From about 200 
yards distance my companion called to me, say¬ 
ing the wolf had jumped a deer. I repl ed that 
it had killed it where I was standing. We came 
back together and found the wolf had been 
about forty paces from the deer when it com¬ 
menced to rush at it. The deer had at first 
apparently jumped up into the air, and did not 
appear to run well until about fifty yards wqre 
covered, then they ran side by side for about a 
hundred and twenty yards, when the wolf ham¬ 
strung the deer, making a cut almost as clean 
as a knife. A few more short bounds and the 
wolf sprang upon the deer’s back, breaking the 
back at one bite, tearing the flesh so that the kid¬ 
ney could be seen, then he had attacked the 
throat, when, no doubt, he scented danger and 
