Jack, the Young Ranchman: A Boy's Adventures in the Rockies

by George Bird Grinnell

"If I leave him here strange to you, you see," he said, "he'll either leave you when I go away, and come back to the ranch, or else he'll run away and become wild, and I don't want to turn no wolves loose on this range. I tried what Hugh told me to with the pups, and now they're all tame as the dogs."

While Charley stayed, Jack devoted his whole time to making friends with the wolf, and everybody at the ranch was as kind to it as possible. After a day or two Hugh and Jack succeeded in overcoming the wolf's suspicions, and had no difficulty in calling it to them and in putting their hands on it. It did not like to be held, and, at first, if firmly grasped, would struggle and snap, in its effort to escape, but the biting seemed to be more a threat than an effort to really bite, and it soon learned that no harm was intended to it. After the wolf had come to be no longer afraid of Jack, Charley neglected it, paying it no attention, while Jack fed it, petted it, and played with it. He was surprised to find how much like a young dog it was, how readily it responded to his advances, and how precisely it resembled a dog in the way it showed pleasure, fear, or suspicion. Hugh made for the wolf a collar of raw-hide, to which, at first, it objected, trying hard to rub it off against the ground, and to push it from its neck with its paws, but after a little it became accustomed to this. Two or three times Jack and Charley ventured to ride out over the prairie with the wolf following them. Their rides, though short, were often fast, yet the wolf never seemed to have any trouble in keeping up with the horses, and sometimes when they were galloping quite fast it would trot along by the side of one of them without seeming at all hurried. From this, Jack called him Swiftfoot.

When it came time for Charley to go, he and Jack parted with not a little sadness on both sides. They had grown fond of each other during the summer, and both regretted Jack's coming absence. Charley looked back a good many times before the waggon disappeared over the hill, and Jack, who stood at the ranch door, holding Swiftfoot by his collar, did not turn away until his friend had quite disappeared from view. The wolf, too, seemed uneasy at the parting, and puzzled as well. He looked at the waggon, and then at Jack, and wagged his tail, and once or twice struggled to get away, as if he wished to follow Charley, but he soon forgot his doubts, and later in the day took great delight in a game of ball with Jack out on the flat.

A few days later, Mr. Sturgis and Jack left the ranch for the railroad. Again Hugh drove them in, and with the same team of horses that had taken them out six months before. Swiftfoot was placed in a wooden cage, immediately behind the seat of the waggon, where he would be close to Jack, who petted and talked to him until he had become a little used to his strange surroundings and to the motion of the waggon.

When the railroad station was reached, quite a crowd gathered on the platform to inspect Swiftfoot, but before long the train pulled in, and the crate holding the wolf was put in the baggage car. The train had scarcely started before Jack, who was anxious about his pet, proposed to his uncle that they should go forward and see how the wolf was getting along, and they did so. The baggage master seemed very glad to see them. He said to Mr. Sturgis, as soon as he entered the car: "See here, partner, I don't like that crate you put aboard here. 'Pears to me it's mighty flimsy, and if that animal in there takes a notion to break out, he might eat me up. I'm afraid of him."

"Oh," said Mr. Sturgis, "he can't get out, and if he could, he wouldn't hurt you. Look over there," and he pointed to Jack, who was sitting on the crate, talking to Swiftfoot, who had his nose through the bars, licking Jack's hand, and was beating a rapid tattoo on the sides of the crate with his wagging tail.

"Oh, Uncle Will!" called Jack, "can't I let him out? He's awful frightened in here, and I think if he had a chance to run up and down the car a few times, and to make friends with the baggage master, he wouldn't mind it so much."

"Hold on! hold on, young fellow!" said the baggage-master, "I don't want to make friends with him. You keep him behind them bars, and we'll be just as good friends as I want to be."

"Oh, I wish you'd let me take him out, just so that he can smell around. I'll put a rope on him, and won't let him get away. Come up here and pat him, and see how friendly he is. He was awful scared, though, when I first came in. He was all crouched up in one corner of the box, and his eyes were shining fearfully. He looked savage."

"Why," said the baggage master, who seemed to be recovering his nerves, "he does seem gentle, don't he?"