No Fear of the Big Bad Wolf

Reprieve from the courts for a hunted hunter

Before the white man set foot in the New World, wolves roamed freely across what would become the U.S., preying on the great herds of deer, elk and bison. The Indians were so in awe of this skilled predator that many tribes incorporated the wolf in such rituals as ceremonial dances, hoping that braves might acquire some of the animal's courage and stamina. But with the settlement of the continent, the hunter became the hunted. Today Canis lupus has all but vanished from the contiguous 48 states. Only in the lonely wilds of northern Minnesota is there any significant concentration of wolves, about 1,200 animals in all.

Now even this small band has become the center of controversy. Like similar debates over the handling of the grizzly, coyote and other wild creatures that sometimes threaten humans and their domesticated animals, the argument involves more than the fate of Minnesota's remaining wolves. At issue is a broader question: Should control of wildlife be left to the people immediately affected by predators, or should endangered creatures be considered part of the national heritage, which involves more than local interests?

For Minnesotans, there have been no simple answers. In recent years, a better understanding of lupine behavior has resulted in a more sympathetic public image of the wolf. Wildlife biologists see them not as lawless, marauding killers, but as highly intelligent social creatures that are monogamous, dote on their young and howl complex messages. Still, in Minnesota's North Country, Canis lupus remains the Big Bad Wolf. Even after the Department of the Interior placed the Eastern timber wolf on the endangered species list in 1973, poaching continued at the rate of about 250 animals a year. Farmers complained of a wolf explosion and charged that the animals were ravaging cattle and other livestock. Says Wildlife Educator Karlyn Atkinson Berg of Bovey, Minn., who is known as the "Wolf Lady" for her work with the animals: "Up here, the right to hunt wolves is considered as sacred as motherhood and apple pie."

Berg and other environmentalists contend that farm animals are in much greater danger from wild dogs and coyotes. Blaming the wolf for every kill, she argues, is almost "a psychological need." Says she, with just a touch of hyperbole: "The wolf is an intelligent animal that groups together and does just what a hunter does when he gets together with his pals." Bowing to antiwolf passions, Interior authorities last summer announced a limited wolf-trapping season in which up to 160 animals a year could be taken in farming areas.

Environmental groups, including an organization called HOWL (Help Our Wolves Live), filed suit in U.S. district court challenging the Interior Department's decision. Game officials replied that by making the wolf a legitimate trophy animal again, its status would be enhanced among its human foes and, therefore, it would be regarded more highly and thus protected. Earlier this month, Judge Miles Lord vigorously rejected this convoluted argument. Said he: "The wolf has long been depicted in story and song as a mysterious menace to man's existence . . . But Congress has now mandated that each person who would slay the wolf must stay his hand. An increased "war on wolves" in northern Minnesota will not be permitted under the law." In the North Country, some claimed they could hear howls of delight. -