Wolf and Coyote Trapping: An Up-to-Date Wolf Hunter's Guide / Giving the Most Successful Methods of Experienced "Wolfers" for Hunting and Trapping These Animals, Also Gives Their Habits in Detail.

by A. R. Harding

"For some time past I had been doing practically no hunting. I say 'practically none' for I had not been out on a real hunt for several weeks, but I did have a short line of traps set and had been looking at them every second morning. On these trips over the trap line I always carried my 30-30 carbine on the saddle and had surprised and shot three coyotes, besides shooting at several more, one of which was wounded but escaped by crawling into a deep hole in a bad-land butte. Besides the three animals mentioned, I had caught in my traps up to that time, some twenty more.

Killed by the Still Hunt.

"On this particular morning the 'Spirit of the Wild' called loudly, for as every hunter knows, there is something in the air of autumn which gets into one's blood at times, and there is no remedy except to go on a hunt. My trap line had been looked at the day before, so I was free for the day. Returning to the little sod house which I called my home, I got my rifle and six shooter, prepared a lunch and as soon as the stage had arrived, changed horses and departed, I mounted my horse and hit the trail for the hills to the westward.

"The section of the country to the west of the station was of the bad-land type, groups of buttes and ridges, radiating in every direction, seamed and honey-combed by the rains of centuries. While the country is very dry, the rains are veritable deluges when they do come, and the ordinarily dry water courses become raging torrents. Along these creek beds, sage and grease wood brush was abundant; in the hills, no vegetation was to be found. It was at all times a paradise for coyotes and occasionally a band of grey wolves strayed through those parts. However, the wolves had been rarely met with since the stockmen had abandoned the cattle industry and gone to sheep raising, but the coyotes had increased in numbers.

"At this time of the year, the sheep were being driven down from the mountains into their winter range and in addition to the coyotes which remained, throughout the summer, in the bad-lands, the still larger number which make a practice of following up the great bands of sheep were also appearing on the scene, and the day promised good sport.

"Riding westward about two and a half miles, I struck the bed of a stream and followed it up towards the hills. Here, I knew there were several prairie dog villages and about such places one is almost certain to find coyotes, so I turned my horse that way in the hope of getting a shot at one of the wary animals. My fond hopes were realized, for on rounding the hill at the edge of the first village I saw a large coyote slinking guiltily over the crest of the nearest ridge, but giving me no chance to draw the gun before he passed out of sight. Hastily riding to the top of the ridge, I saw the animal making his get-away down the draw at the other side and throwing my carbine to my shoulder, I caught a quick aim and fired just as he was rounding a spur of the ridge about a hundred and fifty yards away. Snap-shooting from horseback is uncertain at all times and on this occasion I had barely time to catch a half-hearted aim, so was not very hopeful regarding the results of my shot.

"Riding up to the spot, I dismounted and on looking the ground over, was elated to find a splotch of blood, but farther search revealed no other traces of the game. Naturally, I supposed that the animal had gone on down the draw and mounting my horse I rode slowly down the hollow, keeping a sharp lookout for the coyote. After looking the ground over for a quarter of a mile or more, and finding no signs of the game, I decided that this animal, anyway, was lost and returned to the scene of the shooting. Dismounting once more, I took the rifle and climbed to the top of the ridge to see what lay beyond. Imagine my surprise and delight when on reaching the top, which was low at this point, I saw the wounded coyote, vainly endeavoring to escape at the bottom of the depression on the other side.

"The first glance showed that the animal was badly wounded and could not last long, but fearing that it would fall into a hole, I took a hasty shot and had the satisfaction of seeing it crumple down, apparently lifeless. On approaching, however, I found that it still retained enough life to make a vicious snap at my hand, missing that member by only a few inches. As I watched it, undecided whether to shoot it again or leave it bide its own time, it breathed its last.