When the dogs growl in an under tone, when they are restless and agitated, and snuff the wind as it drives in eddies through the shutters, "The wolf is abroad," say the peasants.
If these runs in the open country by the light of the moon afford no supper, he returns to the depths of his lair, or takes up the scent of some roebuck, tracks it like a hound, and though his hope is small indeed of ever catching it, he perseveringly follows the trail, trusting that some other wolf, famished like himself, will head the timid animal in its flight, and seize it as it passes, and that, like staunch friends, they will afterwards divide the spoil between them.
But the reverse more often occurs,—and foiled and disappointed, he then becomes, though naturally a dastard and full of fear, absolutely courageous; the fire of hunger consumes his stomach, he fears nothing, and braves every danger; all prudence is forgotten, and his natural ferocity is wound up to such a pitch, that he hesitates not to meet certain destruction, attacks the animals that are actually under the care of man, man himself,—throws himself suddenly upon the poor benighted traveller, and gliding slowly and softly, with the stealthy movements of a serpent, seizes and carries off with him to the depth of the forest the infant sleeping in its cradle, or the little, helpless, innocent child which, ignorant of danger, laughs and plays at the cottage-door.
Unsociable as well as savage, with a heart harder than the ball which drills the ghastly hole in his side, loving only himself and his dark solitudes, the wolf never associates with its own kind; and when, by accident, it happens that a few are seen together, be sure the meeting is not a Peace Congress, or a party of pleasure. The assembled wolves represent a society of reds, preparing the arrangements for a combat, in which many a stream of blood shall flow, amidst the most fearful and horrible cries. If a wolf intends to attack a large animal,—for instance, an ox or a horse,—or if he desires to put a watch-dog, whose strength disquiets him, or whose vigilance incommodes him, out of his way, he roves about the lonely paths of the forest, raising a sharp prolonged cry, which immediately attracts other wolves in the neighbourhood; and when he finds himself surrounded by a numerous troop of his colleagues, bound together by no other tie than the common object they all have in view for the moment, he conducts them to the attack, and should the farmer be not there to out-manœuvre them, it will be odd indeed if the animal that they have agreed to destroy does not fall a victim to their plans. The expedition over, the valiant brotherhood separate, and each returns in silence to his thicket, whence they emerge to reunite, when slaughter and blood call them forth again to make common cause.
Wolves attain their full size in three years, and live from fifteen to twenty; their hair, like that of man, grows gray with years, and like him also they lose their teeth, but without the advantage of being able to replace them; the race of wolves is as old as the flood,—even older, for their bones have been found in antediluvian remains. They are found in all countries on the New Continent as well as the Old. "They exist," observes Cuvier, "in Asia, Africa, and America, as well as in Europe; from Egypt to Lapland; everywhere, in fact, excepting in England." How an animal so detestable and so universally hated should have continued to perpetuate itself, when every other species of savage beast on the face of the earth diminishes in an infinitely greater proportion, is a problem difficult to solve.
Fourrier, in his "Théorie Harmonique et comparative des espèces," remarks truly, that each species of the human race corresponds with some species of the brute creation. The wolves in the forest represent the Jews in the towns; and he asserts, that it being possible only to compare the voracity of the one with the rapacity of the other, these two races, which are identical by reason of their several characteristics, will never perish, never become extinct, except together. But the Jews decline to acknowledge the relationship thus assumed and the paradoxical connexion between themselves and this race of animals; they deny that the idiosyncrasies are in any degree similar, and persist in placing this luminous idea of Fourrier's on a level with that of the sea of lemonade, which will, according to the same author, one day surround our planet.
The bones and teeth of wolves are often discovered, as I have already said, amongst the débris of the antediluvian world.
In the Holy Scriptures, too, there are several observations respecting the wolf,—in them it is stated that he lives upon rapine, is violent, cruel, bloody, crafty, and voracious; he seeks his prey by night, and his sense of smell is wonderful. False teachers are described as wolves in sheep's clothing; and the Prophet Habakkuk, speaking of the Chaldeans, says, "Their horses are more fierce than the evening wolves." And again, Isaiah, describing the peaceful reign of the Messiah, writes,—"The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid: and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them."
The wolf varies in shape and colour, according to the country in which it lives. In Asia, towards Turkey, this animal is reddish; in Italy, quite red; in India, the one called the beriah is described as being of a light cinnamon colour; yellow wolves, with a short black mane along the entire spine, are found in the marshes of all the hot and temperate regions of America. The fur of the Mexican wolf is one of the richest and most valuable known. In the regions of the north the wolf is black, and sometimes black and gray: others are quite white; but the black wolf is always the fiercest. The black is also found in the south of Europe, and particularly in the Pyrennees. Colonel Hamilton Smith relates an anecdote illustrative of its great size and weight. At a battue in the mountains near Madrid, one of these wolves, which came bounding through the high grass towards an English gentleman who was present, was so large that he mistook it for a donkey; and whatever visions of a ride home might have floated across his brain for the moment, right glad was he on discovering his error, to see his ball take immediate effect.