The Last Wolf Hunt

My wife and I went to Oklahoma City again last weekend, to visit a specialist concerning our unborn child. After receiving a clean bill of health for the baby, we decided to take a trip down to Wylie, TX, and visit my Great Uncle Tom, whose health is beginning to fail him.

Tom recalled a few stories about his family that he could remember. He had a few pages of notes which I copied and will eventually post to this blog, but he also had a great story about the Last Wolf Hunt which I OCR'd and cleaned up. Enjoy!

The Last Wolf Hunt

by Tom McGaughy

ln 1947 many of the farmers in the Red River Valley, north of Nocona, Texas, were being troubled by wolves catching their chickens. Chickens were generally allowed to free range and were easy for a wolf to catch, to the extent that a neighbor, Pee Wee Tucker, killed a big pup as he chased a chicken between his legs. My mother hit one with a broom in the yard.

 My uncle Henry McGaughy, along with myself and Basil Edwards, located a den with pups one April. We dug out eleven in all and put them in a cage that Uncle Henry had brought along. The pups had their eyes open and were nippy little rascals. The den was located in a plum thicket with a big green briar patch about 3 feet tall on the south and east side.

We took the pups home and upon returning Henry called several wolf hunters he knew, hound dog men, they were called and they in turn called people they knew. 

That first night 8 to 10 men came bringing with them 45 dogs. We set up camp on our picnic grounds, a clearing in the woods. The men took most of the dogs out to the den and the two wolves met them there. The dog wolf took off and led the dogs away by the Spanish Fort, five miles east, then lost them under the old school house at Illinois Bend 7-8 miles further east. This ended the first night.

The second night we had about 150 dogs and 25-30 men. This was a confused night with 45-50 dogs turned loose and short runs. There was some fighting, the wolves whipping the dogs. No good runs that night  except about 2pm when the dog wolf whipped several dogs on Ed Russell's back porch. Ed's son said "lt was the scariest racket" he ever heard.

On the third day, I fed the wolf pups, they learned to drink milk very quickly. Loads of hunters and dogs came in. One as far as Clovis, New Mexico, with his 6 dogs. He did a lot of bragging about how his dogs would "catch those coyotes quickly."No one told him what was out there. About 75-80 cars and pickup trucks were there and an estimated 450 dogs, probably 110-115 men and two 14yr old boys, Basil and me.

About 8pm they started leading 50-60 dogs towards the pups about 500 yards away. When they got out about 75 yards the dogs almost went crazy, the wolves had been there to see what was going on. They turned the dogs loose and the chase was on. The wolves went as far as the briar patch and then turned to fight. Lots of growling, and dogs yelping in pain. The wolves used the narrow paths through the briars so that only 1-2 dogs could get to them at a time. The dogs were no match for the much  larger and faster wolves. Around this same time, howling commenced from the East, South, and West. Easily counted were six wolves. The main bunch of dogs at the camp were tied up, and were excited and agitated as they looked in all three directions. Some of the hunters wanted to turn loose small groups of dogs at a time, but one hunter said, "Boys, we came to catch wolves, turn them all loose!” After about a two minute discussion on the subject, 350 dogs were running in every direction giving the wolves a hard time.

Mom and Dad had been to Nocona and a group crossed the highway in front of them, seven miles south. They picked up and brought two young dogs that were "pooped out." Their hunt lasted only 30 minutes.

The guy from Clovis did not turn his dogs loose, he said that they needed rest after the long trip.

There were dogs scattered over a ten mile radius. After that night people were bringing them in and calling Mom and Dad and giving locations of where they were holding them. None were lost in the hunt.

So far, lots of chases, no dogs badly hurt, no wolves caught.

On the fourth day, the guy from Clovis wanted to run his dogs early in the morning, so Henry, Basil, and I took him and his six dogs to the briar patch in Henry's pickup. We stood in the backend and watched. The dogs found the wolves immediately, and we could see both dogs and wolves in the network of paths through the briar, about 30 inches high. Soon there was the sound of fighting and dogs were jumping over the briars to get away from the wolves.

One dog came in and was badly cut up. Our guy from Clovis started calling his dogs off and four more came back. We walked out in the briar patch and found his prize bitch dog, cut to pieces, dead. That is when the guy finally realized what his dogs had been fighting. he said, ”I thought you were calling coyotes, "wolves", but these are Timber Wolves."

Henry was a dog lover and rode the guy pretty hard about being a fool for not listening to everyone who told him they were wolves. 

I was walking dead that day, with about 2 hours of naps, going on four days, so I went home and ate and slept for 18 hours.

Some of the hunters left that day, while others stayed and ran the wolves again that fourth night. Then early on the fifth morning, they caught the bitch wolf. She was probably worn out and hungry, with no time to hunt. They weighed her in at 92 pounds.

The dog wolf was never caught. I saw him on a number of occasions prior to the hunt, as well as the two together. He was six inches taller at the shoulders, heavier set, and I am sure he would have easily beat 125 pounds.

This was the last big wolf hunt. It is highly unlikely to happen again. There is a lack of wolves and there are very few people who have dogs that will stay with a wolf.

Regardless of what Texas Parks and Wildlife says, there are still a few wolves in the Red River valley. Also, there are a few Lobo wolves, the old buffalo wolves on the Canadian River in the Panhandle. To see them, camp out and watch under the bridge over the Canadian River by Boys Ranch, Tascosa.

This was quite an experience for a 14 year old boy, and made an impression that has lasted a lifetime. Now at 70 years old, much of it is still very clear.

I miss the thrill of the sight of wolves. From the sight of a dog wolf crossing the road in front of me to the bitch teaching her pups how to catch grasshoppers. How many 14 year olds can say that they taught wolves to catch chickens by shooting free ranging chickens at the edge of the woods, and started a killing spree?

All this because I hated chickens! A chicken a day won't keep the doctor away, but it sure will bring in the wolves.

A map that Tom drew at the end of his story.