THE WOLF, (Canis Lupus,)
When hungry, is an undaunted and most ferocious inhabitant of the woods, but a coward when the stimulus of appetite is no longer in action. He delights to roam in mountainous countries, and is a great enemy to sheep and goats; the watchfulness of dogs can hardly prevent his depredations, and he often dares to visit the haunts of men, howling at the gates of cities and towns. His head and neck are of a cinereous colour, and the rest of a pale yellowish brown. He commonly lives to the age of fifteen or twenty years. He possesses a most exquisite power of smelling his prey at a great distance. Wolves are found nearly everywhere, except in the British islands, where this noxious race has been entirely extirpated. King Edgar first attempted to effect this by remitting the punishment of certain crimes on producing a number of Wolves’ tongues; and in Wales, the tax of gold and silver was commuted for an annual tribute of Wolves’ heads. In the reign of Athelstan, Wolves abounded so much in Yorkshire, that a retreat was built at Flixton, to defend passengers from their attacks. They infested Ireland many centuries after their extinction in England: the last presentment for killing Wolves was made in the county of Cork about the year 1710. They abound in the immense forests of Germany, and they are also found in considerable numbers in the South of France. Everywhere that they are wild, so great is the general detestation of this destructive creature, that all other animals endeavour to avoid it. In a state of captivity, however, the Wolf is remarkably anxious to attract the attention of man, and rubs itself against the bars of its cage when noticed. Indeed, the Wolf is by no means so untractable as is frequently supposed; but his temper is rather uncertain, and his destructive habits render him a dangerous pet. A curious instance of combined docility and destructiveness is related by Mr. Lloyd, which, as it also illustrates the cunning of this animal, we adduce here. Mr. Lloyd says—“I once had serious thoughts of training a fine female Wolf in my possession as a pointer; but was deterred, owing to the penchant she exhibited for the neighbours’ pigs. She was chained in a little enclosure, just in front of my window, into which those animals, when the gate happened to be left open, ordinarily found their way. The devices the Wolf employed to get them in her power, were very amusing. When she saw a pig in the vicinity of her kennel, she, evidently with the purpose of putting him off his guard, would throw herself on her side or back, wag her tail most lovingly, and look innocence personified. And this amiable demeanour would continue until the grunter was beguiled within the length of her tether, when, in the twinkling of an eye, the prey was clutched.” The Wolf is sometimes affected with madness, in symptoms and consequences exactly similar to that which affects the dog; but this disease, as it generally happens in the depth of winter, cannot be attributed to the great heat of the dog-days. In the northern parts of the world, wolves are said, frequently, in the spring, to get upon the fields of ice adjoining the sea, for the purpose of preying upon the young seals, which they there find asleep; but vast pieces of the ice occasionally detaching themselves from the mass, they are carried with them to a great distance from the land, where they perish amidst the most hideous and dreadful howling. The language of the poet is beautifully descriptive of this creature’s insatiable fury:—
“By wintry famine roused, from all the tract
Of horrid mountains, which the shining Alps,
And wavy Apennine, and Pyrenees,
Branch out, stupendous, into distant lands,
Cruel as death! and hungry as the grave!
Burning for blood! bony, and gaunt, and grim!
Assembling Wolves, in raging troops, descend;
And, pouring o’er the country, bear along,
Keen as the north wind sweeps the glossy snow:
All is their prize.”
