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

by George Bird Grinnell

They started off all together, the boys riding soberly just ahead of the waggon. The prairie was rough with sage-brush and the team could only advance at a walk; so it took them nearly two hours to get to the ravine where the wolf's hole was. If Jack had been alone he would not have been able to find the place, but Charley seemed to know just where it was, and when Jack spoke to him about this he said, "Oh, it's easy enough. You see, I am riding all the time, and I know pretty nearly every hill and ravine within ten miles of the ranch, in any direction. Then, of course, there's the big high hills for landmarks, and even if I don't know the precise place that I am going to I can always ride toward the hill that I know lies beyond it. Then of course, the sun always gives a fellow his direction, and often the wind too, though you can't depend on that, for sometimes the hills make eddies, and the wind seems to change its direction."

"Why did you leave all the dogs at home?" said Jack, "I should think they might be useful in case you find the old wolf near the den."

"We ain't likely to do that," said Charley. "She's fed her puppies early this morning, and is probably lying up on some hill, quite a little way from the hole, and will see us and sneak off long before we get to it. Besides that, the dogs have had hard work for the last three or four days, and some of them are cut up too badly to take out, and even those that are well are likely to get tender-footed if they are run too often."

When they reached the ravine where the hole was, they drove down into it and stopped the team on the windward side. Hugh went up to look at the place, and returning, announced that he believed the pups were still there. They picketed out the horses where they could feed, and then carried up near to the hole the picks and spades, and a slatted box that had been prepared to hold the puppies, if they caught them, some sacks and a lot of leather strings, and a long slim pole that Hugh had cut that morning.

"Now," said Hugh, "I am going to try and find the direction this hole takes, and while I am doing that it would be good for you boys to cover up this mess."

The mouth of the hole was foul with decaying meat, old bones, parts of calves, colts, and rabbits that had been brought there by the old wolf for the young to eat and play with, and a little fresh dirt thrown over all this made the place much pleasanter.

Hugh worked for some time with his pole, trying to determine the direction in which the hole ran, but without much success. He could thrust the stick in for five or six feet, but, twist it as he might, it would not go further than that. The two men, therefore, took their picks and vigorously attacked the side of the bank, breaking down the dirt, which they afterward shovelled out. The bank was steep, and in order to make room to work they had to loosen and remove a considerable quantity of dirt, so that their progress was slow. The morning was warm, and the work gradually grew harder and harder. About six feet from the entrance the hole took a sharp upward turn, and then seemed to run straight in. Probing it with his pole, Hugh felt something soft, and then pushing it in a little further, reached a wall of dirt, which he pronounced the end of the den. By moving the point of the pole from side to side he could feel the young wolves, and once, when he gave a sharp push, a sound like the yelping of a pup in pain came from the hole.

"Now, Powell," said Hugh, "if we can make this hole a little larger, so that I can work my pole, I'll put a rope on the end of it and try and snare some of them puppies. We've got to go pretty careful, though. I expect these little fellows are pretty good size by now, and they're likely as not to make a bolt out of the hole when we get close to them, and maybe get off. Wish we had one of the dogs here. I'll tell you what you two boys do: you get your gun, son, and Charley, you take your six-shooter, and stand just behind us, and if anything runs out, you try to kill it, but look out you don't shoot your father nor me, and look out you don't shoot the horses. These pups can't run very fast yet, and you'll have plenty of time to take a careful sight at them, and get them."

The boys did as they were told, and while the work with pick and shovel progressed, waited and watched. Nothing came out, however, and after a time Hugh declared that he was going to try to snare the pups. He fastened a short rope to the end of his pole and made in it a running noose about a foot in diameter. Then he lay down and began to angle for the little wolves. For some time he worked without success, but at length, giving a quick jerk, he rose to his feet, declaring, "I've got one," and dragged to the light a kicking, yelping puppy, caught by a hind leg. It was a dull white, woolly little beast, sharp-nosed and thick-legged, and about as big as a three months' old Newfoundland pup. As soon as it appeared, it was seized by Mr. Powell, who had wisely put on his heavy leather gloves. The creature fought like a little demon, and bit, and kicked, and struggled, and yelled, but soon a string of buckskin was tied about its muzzle, confining its jaws, its four legs were tied together, and it was thrown in a gunny sack, which was tied up and put in the slatted box. Again and again Hugh tried to get another, but without success, and finally, in disgust, he threw his pole aside, and the men attacked the bank again. Another hour's work enabled them to look into the hole, and to see a mass of grey huddled together, almost within arm's length of the opening. Hugh declared that if one of his arms were only six feet long, instead of three, he would reach in and haul the puppies out one by one with his hand. The entrance to the hole was now so large that either of the boys might have crawled in, as both proposed to do, but the men declined to permit this. Cutting off his pole to about the depth of the hole, Hugh again began to try to noose the pups, and this time with success, for one by one he hauled out three more, which were disposed of as the first had been. The last pup, taking advantage of a moment when he had moved away from the hole, bolted out, but was struck a mighty blow with the spade by Mr. Powell and killed on the spot.

"Well," said Powell, "I calculate that's a mighty good day's job. Those five pups during the winter would have eaten five hundred dollars' worth of beef, and might have killed five thousand dollars' worth. It seems like I ought to make you men a good present for what you have done to help get rid of these varmints."