On The Trail 
of 
Old Lobo 
How an Uncertain Shot Across 
a Forest Lake Landed a Big 
Timber Wolf 
By DR. WALTER L. FINTON 
overshadowed by tall birch and 
hemlock, my Indian guide and I 
waited, watching the opposite shore of 
the little lake. 
The bright sunlight on this mid- 
October day revealed the broad tracks 
of moose and the smaller, sharper- 
pointed tracks of deer along the 
beach. Intermingled with the hoof 
marks of these two species of the deer 
family were the tracks of the great 
timber wolf, and, as relics of 
the tragic chapters of former 
years, we found scattered the 
whitened bones of deer. Great 
numbers of these had _ been 
killed here by that great rav- 
ager of the North, the gray or 
timber wolf. 
Round craters in the shore 
mud gave evidence of recent 
wolf excavations in quest of 
crayfish. Beyond the mud 
craters was a wide strip of 
marsh grass, so enticing to the 
deer family. The background 
of this pasture consisted of the 
forest edge, a beautiful galaxy 
of white birch, green balsams 
and poplar, whose yellow leaves still 
clung, waiting for another frost. 
Timber wolves are not often seen by 
white men and to shoot one is an ex- 
treme rarity. Of all the big game 
animals of this part of Canada, south 
of Hudson Bay, the gray wolf is the 
most difficult to shoot. 
GS oversnado in a clump of alder, 
Y Indian guide had hunted and 
trapped for twenty-eight years in 
this wild part of Quebec and he had 
shot only one wolf and that one by 
moonlight. During this time he had 
killed four bears and over seventy 
Page 273 
ing in the sunshine. 

Old Lobo’s pelt, a prized trophy 
moose in contrast to the one wolf. 
We therefore had no hope of seeing 
a wolf but thought perhaps a deer or 
moose might come out. 
AREFULLY we had worked our 
way along the west side until we 
were about half way down and about 
11 A. M. had secluded ourselves in 
some brush in a location that gave us 
a good view of the opposite shore. 
At noon we ate our lunch, but did 
IAI TTT 
Suppose, reader, you were to step to the 
edge of a spruce-forested wilderness lake 
and there across an uncertain expanse of 
mirror-like surface you were to behold a 
great timber wolf, his silver coat glisten- 
Put yourself in this 
situation and you are ready to enjoy a well 
told narrative of a most unusual experience. 
ITU 
not make a fire as usual, for fear of 
frightening the moose. 
OR three hours we watched and 
waited, but nothing appeared. We 
therefore decided to spend a_ short 
time in working on down the lake and 
then planned on starting for camp, 
which would take another three hours. 
Before leaving our hiding place I 
lowered the rear sight on my rifle, 
back to 100 yards where I usually keep 
it for wood shooting. 
We worked our way slowly through 
the thick forest, the guide about three 
paces ahead. As we rounded a big 
boulder the Indian suddenly stopped 
and pointed across the lake. 
I LOOKED. There stood a big tim- 
ber wolf. He had just stepped out, 
right where we had been watching for 
game not five minutes before. His 
gray coat glistened like silver in the 
sunlight. He stood with head erect 
listening and sniffing the wind. That 
visual handicap, short  sightedness, 
which is common to the wolf 
and his domesticated cousin, 
the dog, might have given us 
our opportunity of seeing him 
first. At three hundred yards 
dogs cannot by sight distinguish 
one person from another, even 
members of their household. 
The fact that we were in deep 
shadow, with the sun at our 
backs compelling the wolf to 
look directly toward the bright 
sunlight when he glanced in 
our direction, gave us a second 
optical advantage. 
Apparently his wonderfully 
acute ears had detected a slight 
noise on our side of the lake 
and mistaking us for deer, he had left 
his mid-day siesta to start on a round 
of investigation with fresh venison as 
his motive. The wind was quartering, 
blowing down the lake between us so 
our scent had not yet reached his 
keen nostrils. 
Hew I wished I had not lowered my 
sights for I would now have no 
opportunity to raise them and the 
wolf was between 200 and 300 yards 
away. I was in a predicament, for 
should he see us or get our scent he 
(Continued on page 312) 
