One man’s wilderness (14 page)

I canoed down to the cabin. It was a good feeling to slide into my beach. I mounted the brackets for the kitchen counter and was just putting the finishing touches on a chair when I heard an unfamiliar sound. I listened and heard it again. Then I really came to life. The sound could be only one thing—wolves howling! They were on the hump. A low deep howl again and then one higher in pitch. The chair would have to wait. I took off up the trail toward my cabin log grove. I should be able to see them from there.

Surely enough, I saw two wolves in an easy lope coming down the trail off the hump and through the scattering of small spruce. Suddenly they vanished. I froze and waited. There they were again, going back up the trail, now walking, now breaking into a slow trot.

Why didn’t I bring my scope? I decided to go back and get it. I flew through heavy brush and timber and had the scope all mounted before they were halfway up the hump. It was a sight: the big one light with dark streaks on his back and sides, dark around his muzzle, the other a fourth smaller and light in shade. They traveled with tails down, long, lanky, and loose with the fur bouncing on their backs. Then there were three—another big one appeared. They stopped to smell a squirrel burrow, and as they did, their tails lifted slowly. I watched them climb up and over the top. After nearly fifty days of labor, it never really entered my mind that I could take a day off. As it turned out, I would today.

Back at the cabin I picked up the saw I had flung to one side in my wild dash to get a look at the wolves, intending to get back to work. I took one last peek through the scope, though, and there no more than 100 yards from where the wolves had climbed was a cow caribou. She was standing with her head down fighting insects. This seemed very strange.

Dick at Spike’s cabin. A lonesome aura. It needed someone to live in it
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The head of the upper lake showing the estuary of Beaver Creek and the backdrop of towering crags
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Browned trout filets, sourdough biscuits, and honey for the first fry of the spring
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A stack of sourdough pancakes drizzled with syrup and topped with bacon
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A gathering of Dall sheep ewes browsing a high slope
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