
FOREST AND STREAM. 





NATURAL JEUISTIO 




About the Wolverine. 



THE mention not long ago of the derivation 
of the word carceajou, an Indian name for the 
wolverine, has brought several inquiries asking 
for details about this animal. 
Perhaps no North American mammal is 
known than the wolverine, and about none, per- 
haps, has more fiction been written. It has vari- 
less 
ously been called bear, badger and weasel, and 
its specific name Juscus signifies blind of one 
eye, as if all wolverines were one-eyed. This 
undescriptive term was applied to it, we are 
told, for no better reason than that the original 
specimen described by Edwards, upon whose 
account the Swedish naturalist Linnzus based 
his Ursus luscus, had but one eye. Among its 
English names are carcajou, glutten and wol- 
verine, the last of which appears to be without 
obvious derivation or meaning 
The wolverine is a huge clumsy weasel, from 
three to four feet in length, blackish or deep 
dusky brown in color, with a broad band of 
chestnut on each side beginning behind the 
shoulder, running along the side, and turning 
up and meeting its fellow on the rump. Some- 
times this chestnut is yellowish-brown or even 
whitish. Narrow patches of white are found on 
the throat and breast and sometimes on the head. 
Its aspect is something like that of a large badger 
or a small bear—except for the bushy tail—and 
it is one of the shyest and least frequently seen 
of all our larger animals. It is an animal of 
circumpolar distribution, being found in the old 
world as well as in the new. In North America 
it occurs in all countries adapted to it, north 
of the United States as far as the Arctic coast, 
and even on some of the islands of the polar 
It used to be found in Vermont, Massachu- 
and New York, as well as in the Rocky 
Mountains; it has been found in Colorado, and 

Sea. 
setts 
HEAD OF AN 

EXCEPTIONALLY 
{ One of the trophies in the Reed-McMillin collection in the New York Zoological Park. 
the sierras of 
occurs, as shown in Mr. 
“Mammals of Cali- 
perhaps even further south. In 
California it 
Stephen’s recently published 
tornia.”’ 
The old writers told wonderful stories of the 
voracity of the wolverine, some of which are 
illustrated by quaint pictures. They told of how 
the glutton, too slow to overtake large animals 
by actual pursuit, climbed trees beneath which 
they were likely to pass, and strewing beneath 
the branches on which it lay moss and leaves, 
waited until they had come there to feed, and 
t 
t 
q 
i 
also 
ven dropping on their shoulders, tore open their 
iroats and killed them. Other tales declared 
lat the wolverine induced the foxes to drive 
ts prey into such a situation that it could spring 
on and kill them. But if it is not smart enough 
to decoy large game animals within its reach 
or to persuade the foxes to drive them to it, it 
has wit and wisdom enough to prove very an- 
noying to the hunter and trapper, and it may 
be questioned whether there exists any fur-bear- 
ing animal that is so heartily detested by the 
trapper as this one. Not only does the wolverine, 
when it finds a trap line, follow the line, spring- 
ing the traps and eating the baits and any 
animals that may have been caught, but it is 
a notorious thief, delighting in nothing so much 
as to steal, carry away, and then hide the prop- 

erty of its human enemy. A good example of 
this is given in an account by Mr. Lockhart, 
writing of the far North: 
“The winter I passed at Fort Simpson I had 
a line of marten and fox traps, and lynx snares 
extending as far as Lac de Brochet. Visiting 
them on one occasion, I found a lynx alive in 
one of my snares, and being indisposed to carry 
it so far home, determined to kill and skin it 
before it should freeze. But how to cache the 
skin till my return? This was a serious ques- 
tion, for carcajou tracks were numerous. Plac- 
“i 
LARGE BEAR. 


ing the carcass as a decoy in a clump of willil 
at one side of the path I went some distance} 
the opposite side, dug a hole with my snows 
about three feet deep in the snow, packed 
skin in the smallest possible compass, and 
it in the bottom of the hole, which I filled 
again very carefully, packing the snow dk 
hard, and then strewing loose snow over 
surface till the spot looked as if it had neh 
been disturbed. I also strewed blood and 
trails in the path and around the willows. 
turning next morning, I found that the car«| 
was gone, as I expected it would be, but tk, 
the place where the skin was cached was 
parently undisturbed. ‘Ah! you rascal,’ saich 
addressing aloud the absent carcajou, ‘I hi 
outwitted you for once.’ I lighted my pipe, | 
proceeded leisurely to dig up the skin to pli 
in my muskimoot. I went clear down to 
ground, on this side and on that, but no hj 
skin was there. The carcajou had been bef 
me, and had carried it off along with the c; 
cass, but he had taken the pains to fill up , 
hole again and make everything as smooth m 
before! 2 
“At Peel’s River, on one occasion, a very |I 
carcajou discovered my marten road, on whl 
I had nearly a hundred and fifty traps. I li 
in the habit of visiting the line about once} 
fortnight, but the beast fell into the way | 
coming oftener than I did, to my great ann 
ance and vexation. I determined to put a sf 
to his thieving and his life together, cost wil 
it might. So I made six strong traps at as mz 
different points, and also set three steel trail 
For three weeks I tried my best to catch li 
beast without success, and my worst ene! 
would allow that I am no green hand in th® 
matters. The animal carefully avoided the tr:lt 
set for his own benefit, and seemed to be takiff 
more delight than ever in demolishing my mil 
ten traps and eating the martens, scattering {il 
poles in every direction, and caching what ba)! 
or martens he did not devour on the spot. | 
we had no poison in those days, I next seti 
gun on the bank of a little lake. The gun y!! 
concealed in some low bushes, but the bait wit 
so placed that the carcajou must see it on J! 
way up the bank. I blockaded my path to tik 



\ 





































































gun with a small pine tree which completely 1 
It. On my first visit afterward I found that tii 
beast had gone up to the bait and smelled {A 
but had left it untouched. He had next pull| 
up the pine tree that blocked the path, and goll 
around the gun and cut the line which connect! 
the bait with the trigger, just behind the muzzii 
Then he had gone back and pulled the bait awh 
and carried it out on the lake where he lall! 
own and devoured it at his leisure. . There! 
found my string. I could scarcely believe th? 
all this had been done designedly, for it seem 
nat faculties fully on a par with human reasill 
would be required for such an exploit if dol 
intentionally. I therefore rearranged thins 
tying the string where it had been bitten. Ble 
1e result was exactly the same for three sul 
cessive occasions, as I could plainly see frelt 
the footprints; and what is most singular of al 
each time the brute was careful to cut the lif 
a little back of where it had been tied before, 
if actually reasoning with himself that even t! 
knots might be some new device of mine, att! 
therefore a source of hidden danger he woul! 
prudently avoid. I came to the conclusion th! 
that carcajou ought to live, as he must be som/é 
thing at least human, if not worse. I gave Mm 
up, and abandoned the road for a period. y 
“On another occasion a carcajou amused hit 
self, much as usual, by tracking my line fro 
one end to the other and demolishing my tray 
as fast as I could set them. I put a large stellt 
trap in the middle of a path that branched fil 
among some willows, spreading no bait, but rie 

t+ 






