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Modern Wolf Hunting
by: Joseph Vorro
March 2000
That first day in the James Bay Frontier sure had me thinking. With the
ambient temperature at -38 F, and the wind ripping my skin, I wondered about
my sanity and ability to handle the weather. "So much for global
warming" I whispered to my guide Peter Martin, as we hunkered down in
more than three feet of snow. My hunting preference was to get as close to a
baited area as we dared, then use predator calls to lure a wolf into shooting
range.
Typically, Peter will strategically position his hunter near a bait, then
snowshoe into the woods to drive a wolf from cover. The idea is that a
pursued wolf will travel from one area of thick cover to another. Calling is
the other hunting option, however, the magic is to think like a wolf and
predict it's escape route. It's this kind of magic,
or predator savvy, that makes Peter Martin, owner of
Kapriver Retrievers and Outfitters of Northern
Ontario so successful.
High winds didn't favor us that first day. Even so, we got a fleeting glimpse
of a black wolf before quitting. As warm and comfortable as Peter's home was,
it took hours for my body to thaw. The next day found us at a different
location, set-up , and calling with an urgency only
bone chilling weather could provoke. Although nothing showed up,
Peter felt sure a wolf should be in the area. Agitated by our lack of
success, he instructed me not to call, bury myself deep in the snow, and
watch for a wolf while he snow-shoed the area. After more than an hour of
vigilance, I saw Peter in the distance beckoning me. There, just 70 yards
form where I sat, were fresh wolf tracks. Peter had in fact pushed a wolf out
of the bush. But as it approached me, the wolf apparently caught my scent. It
paced back and forth, eventually swinging wide instead of crossing where I
might see him. Our efforts were foiled again.
The temperature on the third day was a repeat of the past. I wore every bit
of clothing I had with me. Perched high on a hill, it was amazing how we
could see even the slightest movement in the vast, snow-covered wilderness.
Something headed our way.
Instinctively I readied my Remington 700, mn.08. Excitement was short lived,
however when it only turned out to be a fox. Peter then led me on a hike in
the direction the fox had come from. I wondered if his decision was born of
frustration, the terrible cold, or both. Later I discovered it was all based
on Peter's instinct, because a quarter mile away we found three sets of fresh
wolf tracks. That fox might have spoiled our chance at a wolf, or two, or
three.
The fourth day arrived like a heat wave, with the temperature soaring to 25F.
Revisiting the area where we spotted the black wolf proved unsuccessful. Even
Peter's snowshoe routine there, and at two subsequent locations didn't
produce anything. That night, Peter, and his lovely wife Terry, and I
celebrated New Years Eve with a sumptuous meal and wonderful conversation.
The dawn of the new year and it's first half day was
unproductive, so we traveled to a place that seemed to intrigue Peter. With
very little daylight left, we cut a trail through the snow to a frozen lake.
After positioning ourselves against a downed log, Peter chided me to make my
calling good, saying "it'll be our last chance." Not two minutes
past when, like an apparition, a wolf took two or three cautious steps out of
the cedars. Immediately his demeanor changed, probably because he didn't see
the source of the distress call. The hairs on his head and neck stood on end
as he swapped ends to escape into the dense cover. My cross-hairs were
already on his shoulder however, and I sent a 140gr. Nosler
Ballistic Tip hand-load his way.
The trip across the lake, just over 200 yards, seemed to take forever, and
all we found were footprints, and a few drops of blood. I had to crawl
through the brush to follow his tracks. Thirty yards away he lay piled up,
chest still heaving, I got five feet from him when
he threw his head back to snap at me. That would be his last, violent effort
however, and with that he died.
Of all predator, wolves have attracted man's richest
fascination. They still provide a worthy challenge and unparalleled hunting
excitement, My Ontario wolf was one of many healthy, big, adults in the area.
I survived the rugged conditions, and had great fun. My success however was
only possible because of the skilled hunter and guide , Peter Martin
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