Dire Wolves

by Ken Jolly

  "I'm not running. I ran for years and I'm tired of it. No animals are going to force me from my home."

  You have little to no savings. You are living season to season and running will wipe you out. Running is not a viable option. I ran from the Arabs and see where it got me. It wasn't until I faced them that I got my life and self-respect back."

  Sam, irate yelled over the noise, "So, you think we should stay, starve and be killed by the wolves?”

  I turned to make sure everyone could hear. "We do what we do best. We hunt them down and take our lives back!" At this the conversations between people in the room drowned any possible semblance of order.

  Horace was the only one to raise serious objections. "These are important biological specimens. These animals are unique to their species. It would be wrong to destroy them."

  "Horace, they have to go the way other predators in the past have had to go. These are not Dire wolves, only bigger, more aggressive, and heavier than normal wolves.

  They are a threat. As you said the Dire went extinct over ten thousand years ago. People are still the most destructive species on this planet." I looked over the crowd, to the window and outside at the driving snow. "It's us or them. I have no desire to be a part of their food chain."

  Finally, we roughed out a two-prong plan.

  I would lead the hunt and Two Fish would strike out for Dawson while we created the diversion. I was a little skeptical. Now don't get me wrong. Two Fish is most likely the most capable man I know and in the wilderness, his skills are legendary but heaven knows others have tried. He merely shrugged, "I can do this. I have some ideas. If the hunt doesn't work we still have a bunch of women and children to get out of here."

  "Some of those women are better shots than the men," I said.

  "Speaking of hunting, how are we going to do that without getting more people killed?"

  I smiled in the same mysterious manner Two Fish had used about his plan. “I have a plan."

  We gathered the hunting party together at first light.

  A dozen guards would escort the cows to the pasture and stand guard while Martha, Earl, Jake and I established tree stands. After we are settled, the escort will return to the safety of town. Recent evidence supports the wolves do not like large gatherings of people.

  Jake was in great spirits; however I've seen Martha and Earl look better. They seemed quiet and a little hesitant. This was a lot to ask of them; however they were also the stern stock that the original settlers came from.

  As usual, Horace raised exceptions to the extermination of a species. I explained my viewpoint again. "We are not going to exterminate them. We are just culling the population so they don't outstrip their food supply, that mainly being us. The smart ones will learn not to mess with human or our stuff. We will give them an important survival lesson!"

  Horace was red in the face. "Admit you are planning on killing all of them!"

  "Horace, only the dumb ones. In the next few days they are going to re-learn a lot of respect for us and with their population reduced they will be able to go back to living off the land the way nature intended."

  Horace stomped off muttering things under his breath. Personally, I didn't care. The wolves have taken many lives and if we wanted our town back, we have to fight for it.

  The snow blown into drifts made rough going, so we thawed Ed's caterpillar plow and used it to break trail while pulling the majority of our gear on a sled.

  The cows were reluctant to leave the barn. However, with the trail broken they followed complaining in the ruts.

  Tom who was guarding the rear of the procession saw a couple of wolves top a nearby hill, however, they vanished when he took a couple of shots at them. This was encouraging, as it seemed as if maybe they are learning.

  The walk did not do my twisted knee any good. I leaned heavily on a walking stick.

  Luke helped stake the cows to a small evergreen in the middle of the clearing. "Jonah, I know I sold these two cows to you, but like I said, try and keep them alive."

  "I'll do my best. You do know if we don't solve this problem we would have eventually had to butcher them?”

  “We have a cross fire set up and I doubt a wolf could even get close to them." I waved over at Martha who was already in her stand. "I've got some of the best shooters in town staked out. The cows are as safe as if they were back in the barn. We even brought straw with us to keep them entertained."

  I looked over at the cows. One was wide-eyed and obviously aware of the predators just out of sight. She smelled them.

  I helped Jake get a leg up on his tree and retreated to mine. After I was up, the guard party waved and trundled back to town. The sound of the tractor starting up made the place suddenly seem a lot lonelier.

  I waited a while but didn't hear any gunshots, so I'm assuming they made it back to town. Now it was just a case of settling down and waiting for our party guests to get here.

  The Purge

  It wasn’t a long wait, nor had I expected it to be. I know that hunger is a strong motivational factor to these animals. I saw a gray shape crouched in stalking mode top the ridge.

  I'm using open sights because when the action starts I expect it to be fast and furious. Telescopic sights would be a hindrance for snap shots because they narrow your field of view. All of our shooting was going to be at close range and fast.

  Perched high in a tree, I settled my rifle, using a branch as a support, leading just ahead of the wolf or at least where I expected to take the shot.

  I hate to admit that I also felt some of Horace's pain but I wouldn’t tell him. These were magnificent creatures. Instinct and hunger dictated that for their survival an alternate food source was necessary. Their motives were as pure as ours, survival. In this war of survival, it requires us to take sides. It had boiled down to them or us. I have to vote for us.

  Afghanistan taught me you couldn’t feel sympathy for the enemy that will kill you without thinking.

  My finger tightened the slack in the trigger and I was about to squeeze when I heard a shot from across the clearing and the wolf I was following dropped in his tracks.

  This signal started the deluge. Wolves came in from every direction intent on their prey and we dropped them as fast as we could shoot. The pack had been thinned out by our previous efforts, but the remaining wolves were still a formable foe.

  My preparedness had provided us the means, guns and ammo. Forethought to pack it all here insured that all of us would have a sufficiency of extra magazines.

  As soon as a gun went out of battery, we pulled the used magazine and slammed a fresh one in. Earl, on the other hand was using stripper clips which were almost as fast. We dared not drop the used magazines to the ground because we would need them repeatedly after we reloaded them.

  During the first onslaught, from my height in the tree, I could see a small dot, wearing cross-country skis, on the snow and ice covered lake moving rapidly away. Two Fish was making his move. I stole a moment to wish him well then went back to shooting.

  The Ice

  Two Fish grinned. The ice felt good. His long cross-country skis moved him at a pace that he dared any wolf to stay with for long. That was the idea. The sound of the skis barely disturbed the environment. He moved silent and fast.

  He figured Jonah’s cows would attract most of the Wolves and with all of the noise and commotion, Jonah’s party would be the center of attention. Now was the time to make as much distance as he could.

  It felt good being back outside. He was tired of being inside so long. He realized that it didn’t bother the whites as much as it did himself. He was naturally accustomed to the outdoors and the cramped Lodge had felt chafing. He didn’t realize how much it had bothered him, until he reached the wide-open spaces of his natural surroundings. Out here, he could breathe.

  He used his speed to stretch out and travel. Let the wolves come. He would outrun them or kill them.

  The secret to his speed was the ic
e. Even though snow had fallen on the lake there was no real friction. A determined person with a steady stride could pile on a lot of speed and miles.

  Every four to five miles he stopped to rest and checks his back trail.

  Once he reached the end of the lake, he switched over to skates. The long length of the skis would trip him up and slow him down on the tangle of the frozen river. From here, it was downhill to Dawson.

  As night closed, he climbed a nearby tree and hoisted his pack. He tied himself off so he wouldn’t fall out of the tree and got a few hours rest and sleep. Tomorrow would be a tough run.

  Killing Fields

  When the wolves slowed, we took turns reloading our empty magazines to have fresh rounds for the next onslaught.

  All conditions indicated we had to be making a big dent in the local wolf population, however we knew this was an illusion based on the hunting howls we could hear from outside the clearing. These howls were wicked enough to freeze blood and came from every direction.

  The clearing rapidly stacked with carcasses and the snow was bleeding red. It was a gory mess.

  I hate to report that we lost one cow.

  Finally, early afternoon the wolves slowed down and we could take turns grabbing a quick lunch.

  Late in the afternoon, with just a little light remaining, we heard sounds of the Caterpillar approaching and the wolves seemed to take this chance to vanish into the woods. Other than the carcasses and blood, you would never guess at the ferociousness of the war that had been fought here.

  Our escort home was coming over the hill. The tractor crested the hill and dropped into the clearing towing a sled with a handful of guards following.

  I may have been a tad premature when I dropped out of my tree. I left my rifle tied to a rope to lower down. Never climb with a loaded gun it might be hazardous to your health. In this instance, not having the gun almost killed me.

  I realized I had left the gun in the tree as soon as my feet hit the ground and I heard the snarl behind me.

  It was close. There was no time to grab my pistol. This wolf had dozens of sharp fangs provided by nature and was skilled in their use.

  I got an arm up to block the lunge that knocked me off my feet. Now I had both arms locked to the wolf's throat trying my best to avoid his snapping bite.

  He was a handful of wiggling and thrashing muscle doing his best to sink fangs in me. His hot putrid breathe panted in my face, fouled my breathing and reinforced my peril. All I could do was hold him away. Releasing either hand would result in giving him the proximity to slash my throat.

  Suddenly the fight left him. He hung limp and still as his fiercely gleaming eyes turned dull and glassy.

  I still hung on not believing he had stopped. It finally sunk in he was dead.

  Jake was down on his knees next to us, cleaning the blood off his knife. "I've told you, time and again, always have a knife!"

  I rolled to my knees, this time doing a 360-degree sweep. "I keep intending to get a knife."

  "Well you can't have this one. I might need it again to save you."

  Ed picked his way across the field of gore and blood. He stopped to look at the dead cow.

  "Jonah, I don't think Luke is going to be too happy with you."

  I sighed, "Let's field dress the cow and load the quarters on the sled. We might as well have a Bar-B-Q tonight. Leave the entrails. They will help bait in more wolves.”

  Tired and resigned I said, “We do this all over again tomorrow."

  I looked over at Martha and Earl who are approaching while keeping an eye on their six. "You guys ready for the same tomorrow?"

  They both looked pale and sickish but agreed to another day. Martha gave a half smile, “How many do you think we got? There can't be that many left? Do you think…?” Her voice trailed off as she surveyed the pile of bodies.

  Something akin to grief washed over her and in spite of her fear, she mourned the loss of the animal’s lives. Yet, I saw a fierceness return as in her mind’s eye she recalled all of the human blood that had stained the streets in town.

  I kicked the carcass of the wolf that had ambushed me and turned to Jake,

  "You also are not going to be one of Horace's favorite friends."

  "We do what we have to do," he replied.

  That night at the Bar-B-Que morale was higher than it has been for a long time. The survivor’s faces seemed less depressed and less fearful. In those faces there now seemed to be elements of real hope; real hope with full stomachs.

  As a pleasant addition, Luke did not lecture me about losing the cow, since I donated the meat for the feast. In short, for the first time in a long while, things were looking hopeful.

  The next morning was a lot like the first. I distributed ammo to my hunters.

  If today didn’t solve the wolf problem, I was going to have to get busy reloading.

  We had half the amount of guards escorting us today. No one questioned this reduction. Even the extraordinary people who daily stake their lives and livelihoods in this cold and forbidding state of Alaska could be expected to do more.

  There had been no new snow overnight. The trail was already broken from the previous day and it was an easy hike. All eyes covered every inch of the landscape and none of us saw any sign of our four legged friends.

  Reaching the clearing, we saw plenty of signs that wolves had been around the clearing during the night. What remained of the cow carcass from the processing yesterday was savaged with plenty of large footprints trampling the snow.

  "Obviously they are a long way from being exterminated. Horace should be happy about that.” As a matter of fact, I was also. Nature was seeking a balance and the wolf population was meeting the tipping point. Once the huge herd had depleted their natural food source, it necessitated a change of diet. That change came with consequences. Had balance been restored? We would know soon.

  For a change in pace we traded tree stands for this hunt. This gave us different vantage points.

  Jake had insisted, yesterday I had taken the best spot. To shut him up we had traded.

  Other than, a few howls from the horizon we never saw a wolf. They either had learned a lesson or gotten smart. Either way I was actually relieved we didn't have another bloodbath.

  Towards late afternoon, Jake and I came down out of our trees to confer while Martha and Earl kept watch above us.

  Jake looked around as he assessed the situation and suggested," I think we might as well pack it in. Nothing is happening."

  I started to agree when something caught my attention. The loud drone of motors as a huge airplane cut the blue sky from the horizon. I hadn't seen a plane all winter. This was a huge multi prop plane with military insignia.

  Three large packages with triple olive green drogue chutes streamed out of the plane. It looked like they were coming down on the lake.

  "Looks like Two Fish found some friends!" I grinned. I had been more than a little worried about him.

  "Look." Jake pointed. The plane made a turn and headed back over us. This time a dozen white chutes popped open, all with men floating underneath and apparently coming to assist. Most of these were headed to the Lake also as they evidently thought it the best landing spot, however one appeared to be blown off course. Then it became very apparent when he headed this way.

  Jake scowled up at the parachute, “There’s always one in every crowd.”

  The closer he approached the more it looked like he was coming down on top of us. I could see him working the sheets and using his body like a rudder. Several minutes later he landed, taking a couple of running steps before dumping his chute. Then it was a mass of flapping white silk, hiding the man from view. He eventually got the chute under control. The helmeted soldier in full battle gear sheepishly walked over.

  I yelled, "Kind of missed your landing. Didn't you?"

  "I knew you guys would be here." Two Fish removed his helmet.

  I studied my friend for a moment and said, "I ne
ver asked what part of the service you were in?"

  He was smiling ear to ear, "Airborne. I figured it might take the State a while to reach you so I went straight to the base. I know some people." He waved his arm sweeping the supplies and men. "I think this should make a difference." Then he noticed the bloody snow we were standing in. In his stoic Indian image he said, "Good hunt?"

  Jake responded, "Just a little target practice."

  Two Fish whistled. "You guys kept them busy. I didn't have near the fun you must have had even though I stopped for a few hours and took a nap in a tree.”

  Everyday events in Laurel rapidly settled back to normal. People still swore they had recent sightings of the wolves. However, the animals now wisely kept us at a distance.

  Horace was still prostrate with grief and bellyached that we had exterminated a species. Though, to anyone paying attention and could read tracks it was obvious the wolves were now regarding humans with a lot more respect.

  It had been my theory that, we had whittled down the numbers in the pack so they could then find balance with nature and live off the land. However, since the huge pack had decimated the indigenous prey animals, the wolves were once again vulnerable to starvation. They would have to migrate away from Laurel if they wanted to survive.

  Maybe Horace could be of some assistance.

  It always tickled me that he was completely incapable of viewing this incident with rationale. Did he mourn for the loss of the animals who traditionally called this part of Alaska home? Did he consider the impact to human life? Didn’t he realize that the little town of Laurel, as we knew it, would be changed and maybe left unable to provide for itself and its population? Did he ever for one second realize that the sizable wolf pack’s destructive influence was contrary to the bio-stability of the region?

  He like all of those people who rent their clothes and sit in sackcloth and ashes who are convinced that mankind is the scourge of the planet. They are so passionate about reducing their carbon footprint, that they use illogical means. They are in too much of a hurry to make a difference and they cannot take the time to study the problem and act with calm and rationale. They will swallow an elephant but gag on a gnat!