About 400 years ago, wolves were the most successful and widespread mammal in North America after humans. There is abundant evidence that wolves and hunters around the world are far from hostile and enjoy some kind of near-symbiotic relationship, but as this ancient resonance fades away, the image of the wolf begins to be distorted and turned into evil, frightening and hateful, and Europeans even brought this perception to the Americas and immediately stimulated it to grow with high bounties and generous rewards. Armed with poisons, traps, traps, snares, guns, etc., modern humans have waged a deadly battle with wolves.
"Living with Wolves" is one of the representative works of Canada's national treasure writer Farley Moat, telling the story of Moat's expedition to wolves in the Arctic wilderness. It was an officially delegated mission, and before it came, like many Europeans, Moart carried a cognitive bias against wolves. But after two years of intimate contact with steppenwolf "George", he discovers that the real wolf world is not sinister, murderous, and ruthless, but replaced by the unity and loyalty of the wolves, the romance and warmth between husband and wife, and their social and empathic abilities are no less than those of humans. At the same time, the living environment of wolves is also being squeezed.
During the two-year-long investigation, the author repeatedly entered the hidden world of wolves and witnessed the unique significance of wolves as a living subject in maintaining the stability of the ecosystem. And the many novel facts about wolves also made him constantly reflect on himself and human society.
With the permission of the publisher, this article excerpts a chapter from the book, telling the funny story of the author's last time tracking wolves alone in the Arctic wasteland, thinking that he could witness a wolf pack hunting reindeer, but in the end he found that it was himself who was fooled.
Living with Wolves ;( plus) by Fari Moart, translated by Jie Liu, February 2022; published by Guangxi Normal University
The few weeks we spent wandering in the tundra were idyllic times. The weather is usually fine, and the sense of freedom we gain in this vast land is as exhilarating as our extensive life experience.
The season of fly-infestation is over. It was hot and there was no wind. I decided to go swimming when the weather was nice and let my pale skin bask in the sun, so I went out and, a few hundred yards from the Inuit camp (shyness is the last civilized habit a man abandons in the wild), stripped naked, swam, and climbed up a nearby ridge and lay down to sunbathe.
Like a wolf, I occasionally lifted my head and looked around. Around noon, I saw a pack of wolves cross the top of the next ridge and head north.
There were three wolves, one of which was white and the other two of which were almost black—a rare color. They were all adult wolves, but one of the black wolves looked smaller and lighter than the other two, and could be a she-wolf.
I was in a dilemma. My clothes were on the shore, some distance apart, while I was on the ridge, wearing only boots and a binoculars. If I go back to get my clothes, I may lose sight of these wolves. But looking back, on a hot day like this, who still needs to get dressed? The pack of wolves had now rolled over the next hilltop and disappeared, so I grabbed my binoculars and chased them as fast as I could.
The Arctic Wolf in the Wasteland, based on the 1983 film Never Cry Wolf by Farley Moart.
This barren land is a labyrinth of low ridges, and between the ridges are small valleys full of green grassy depressions, and small groups of North American reindeer are slowly moving southward while nibbling on grass. For me, it was an ideal terrain because as wolves passed through these valleys in turn, I could observe them from different mountain tops and there was nothing missing. When they crossed a ridge and disappeared from my sight, I just had to sprint, undetected, to keep up with them, and after reaching another raised position, I would continue to observe them.
I was sweating profusely due to the excitement and constant running from one hill to another. When I ran to the first ridge to the north, I thought I would see three wolves swooping down on the unsuspecting herd of North American reindeer below. However, when I looked around, I saw a completely peaceful scene, which made me feel uneasy. In my field of vision, there are about 50 stags, one in the east and one in the west, each group of 3 to 10, all busy eating grass. The wolves wandered through the valley, as if they were more interested in rocks than the bucks. The North American reindeer, on the other hand, seemed completely unaware of any danger. At the moment, the reactions of these wolves in these North American reindeer are like the reactions of several familiar dogs in a herd of domesticated domestic cattle as they pass through a ranch.
The whole scene is all wrong. A group of wolves was surrounded by herds of North American reindeer; although both sides were clearly fully aware of each other's presence, neither seemed to feel irritable or restless, or even seemed less interested in the other.
Arctic Wolf Visual China Figure
I watched in disbelief as three wolves trotted past a pair of baby stags less than 50 yards away from them— the latter lying on the ground, chewing on their ruminant food. They turned their heads to watch the wolves walk by, but did not stand up, nor did their mouths stop twitching. Their contempt for wolves seems to have reached its extreme.
Two wolves walked past two small herds of grazing deer, paying no attention to the herd, and the herd ignored them. My confusion continued unabated, and as the wolves staggered up a slope and over the next ridge and disappeared, I jumped up and followed, frightened to face the two young deer that had been indifferent to the wolves, jumped up and stared at me with furious eyes. As I sped past, they reached forward, snorted in disbelief, stood up and made a sharp turn, galloping away as if they were being chased by the devil. It seems completely unreasonable that they should be filled with fear of me and indifferent to wolves. But I consoled myself with the idea that their panic might be due to the fact that they had never seen a white man appear unexpectedly—he was slightly reddened, wearing only boots and binoculars, and was running frantically through this picturesque meadow.
After a while, the white wolf set off again, and the other wolves followed. As they walked down the hill to the bottom of the valley, they remained unhurried, and many times they were just strolling aimlessly, while dozens of North American reindeer were grazing at the bottom of the valley. Along the way, a certain wolf stopped from time to time to smell the smell of moss, or went around to the side to check what was going on alone. When they reached the valley, they began to line up in a straight line, about 100 feet apart from each other, and then maintained this formation, turned around and began to trot along the valley floor.
Only the Reindeer, who were on the route of the wolves, reacted as they should. When a wolf approaches within fifty or sixty yards, the reindeer will hum, stand up on their hind legs, and jump to the side of the wolf pack's forward route, or gallop a few yards. After that, some of them turned again and watched with interest as the wolves passed by; but most of the reindeer did not look at the wolves again and returned to where they had grazed.
Over the course of an hour, I followed the wolves for three or four miles, passing by about 400 Reindeer at close range. Deer react indifferently whenever wolves are reasonably spaced; they occasionally show interest when they are close; and they only take evasive measures when they are about to hit wolves. In short, they never scurried around or panicked.
So far, most of the North American reindeer we've encountered have been male; but now, we're starting to encounter large numbers of doe and calves—and the behavior of wolves has also changed.
One of the wolves drove out a lonely fawn hiding in the willow bushes. When the fawn appeared in my field of vision, less than 20 feet away from the wolf behind, the wolf stopped and looked at it for a moment, then ran to catch up. I thought I was about to witness a killing, and my heart pounded with excitement.
However, this is not possible. The wolf ran desperately for 50 yards, but did not visibly approach the fawn, so it gave up the chase and trotted back to meet its companions.
The wolf world is not sinister, ferocious, and unforgiving, and the wolf is also a warm animal. Visual China figure
I couldn't believe my eyes. ...... Over the next hour, however, all three wolves launched at least 12 different raids, either attacking a young deer, or pouncing on a doe with a calf, or chasing a herd of doe and calves, but each hunt was almost interrupted at the beginning.
I was on the verge of being utterly enraged. Did I hike a full six miles of cross-country and tire myself half to death just to see a pack of wolves playing this trick of fooling weak animals?!
As I watched the wolves leave the next valley and wander around the ridge in the distance, my eyes were bloodshot and I ran after them. I don't know what I'm thinking at the moment—maybe I was going to chase a young deer myself, just to see how the impotent beasts would see how the chase was done. Anyway, I flew over the top of the hill and plunged straight into the middle of the pack of wolves.
Maybe they stopped to catch their breath, and I rushed into them like a bomb. The wolves exploded. The three wolves ran as fast as they could—ears pressed against their heads, tails sticking straight behind them. They trembled and panicked through the scattered herds, and this time the deer finally made a reasonable response—scrambling to run around—and the scene I had been expecting to witness all afternoon finally appeared. However, I was painfully aware of the fact that it was not the wolf who was responsible for this unrest — but me.
Wolves and reindeer can sometimes also live in harmony. Visual China figure
So I gave up tracking and turned and walked toward the camp. When I got a few miles from the camp, I saw several people running toward me, and I recognized them as the Inuit woman and her three children. They seemed frightened by something, screaming as they ran; the woman brandished a two-foot-long snow knife, and her three children brandished deer spears and peeling knives.
I stopped, a little inexplicably, and immediately realized with great embarrassment that I was in a situation—not only unarmed, but also naked. I didn't have the conditions to defend against an attack, and the point was that the attack seemed imminent, and the point was that I had no idea what prompted these Inuit to suddenly make such a crazy move. Caution is courage, so I stretched my tired muscles and sprinted hard, intending to go around them. I succeeded, but they still didn't stop, and the chase continued until we returned to camp. I hurriedly put on my pants, grabbed my rifle, and prepared to fight to the end. Fortunately, just as the woman and her angry helpers pounced on me again, Otek and the two men returned to the camp, and the war was averted.
A little later, when things had calmed down, Otek explained to me what had happened. It turned out that one of the children was picking berries, but suddenly saw me naked, galloping away, chasing the wolves over the mountains. His eyes widened and he hurried back to report the situation to his mother. She, a brave woman, thought I was crazy (inuit believed that no white man could go very far in this direction) and tried to attack a pack of wolves with her bare hands. She called the rest of the children, grabbed the weapon at hand, caught whatever it was, and set off as fast as she could to save me.