Ashtabula telegraph. (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1874-1880, 1879-09-12
Wolves and Coyotes.

The coyote is much smaller than his
gray brother. The latter is nearly as
| large as Newfoundland dog, the former
about twice the size of cat. The co
vote fancies a camp fire, and sits on q
hillock within sight of its place, barking
for hours. The gray wolf bays the moon
like dog. Graham says ne has seen
them sitting on the highest rocks gazing
at the bright orb with their heads thrown
back uttering unearthly howls. The
wolf scorns the coyote. When the large
wolves drag down an old buffalo bul
the coyotes huddle in the vicinity, lick
ing their chops and barking, as though
begging a share of the prey. Should
| these venture too near the big fellows
utter ominous growls, and the coyotes
stink away, tails between their legs and
heads turned over their shoulders. The
| coyote quickly determines the status of a
hunter. If he finds him killing wolves
he keeps at a respectful distance; but
if he is only hunting bears, antelope or
buffalo, the little fellow becomes quite
social. While bear hunter was butch
ering game coyotes patiently watched
his operation, and a gray wolf loped
hungrily on an outer circle. The trap
per threw piece of meat to the small
fellows, who ran of and were waylaid
by the big wolf They dropped the
meat and returned, but seemed to learn
nothing by experience, for they fed the
robber as long as the hunter chucked
them the meat.
Many coyotes pick up their supplies in
the prairie-dog colonies. If one is lurk-
ing in the streets aDd sees a dog away
from his hole, he STEALS upon him with
the utmost secrecy, striving to cut off
his retreat. An old dog, however, is
rarely caught mapping. Some of the fra
ternity are sure to espy the wolf, and
warning bark sends the dog into his
hole, with tantalizing shake of the tail.
The coyote despon6ently peers into the
hole, takes away ne dirt with a paw,
and shifts at the lost meal. He gets his
eye on another log, and craWls toward
the hole like cat upon the mouse. The
warning bark is again heard, and a sec
ond meal disappears. Infuriated by his
disappointment, the wolf frequently
turns upon the little sentry, and for q
few seconds makes the sand fly from the
entrance of his residence. Worn out
by his futile efforts, he fattens himself
upon the sand behind the hole, and,
motionless as a statue, watches it for
hours. If the dog pops out his head he
is gone. The wolf springs upon him, the
jaws come together like the snap of a
trap, and the helpless little canine is
turned into a succulent supper. One
Meier, well known buffalo hunter, was
riding across a dog town some years ago,
when he saw what he supposed to be a
dead coyote stretched out at one of the
holes. He dismounted and lifted it by
the tail, intending to take the body to
camp and skin it. The coyote made
snap at his leg, wriggled from his grasp
and sped over the prairie more surprised
than the trapper. He was in sound
sleep when caught. But the coyotes
greatest harvest is in the spring of the
year, when they fatten themselves at
the expense of the inexperienced young
dogs caught wandering from home.
Whole families enjoying the cool even
ing breeze on the mountains above their
burrows are taken unawares, and the
tender young snapped up before their
parents can force them under the
ground.