The following is my translation of an article called: Etwas über Wölfe von Otto Hischer. It appeared in a German popular science magazine, Kosmos Handweiser für Naturfreunde 1909, Heft 8, Seiten 251-254. As with many would be conservationists of the time, Herr Hischer sees to have believed that the best way of saving endangered animals required shooting them. Odd as it may sound to some, hunting can actually play a positive role in such matters through, for example, the protection of habitat. It can be less destructive to forest wildlife than destroying the forest. The original article is accompanied by two photos and, as you may notice, they aren't included here.
I'm not aware of any previous translation.
Trevor Dykes.

Something about wolves by Otto Hischer
The simplest and most successful form of wolf hunt where they -as in the Carpathians- are still common, requires a raised hide at a place with bait. And yet -this hunt is not all that simple. Above all else, one needs a well sited shooting hut, taking into account that wolves often change places, and then the experience concerning which bait the wolf finds most tempting. Although the wolf is much cheekier than the fox and, similarly, will eat carrion, it does not allow itself to be attracted by just anything. While on its wide ranging nightly tours, and with its great strength, it is allowed to choose from a great selection of prey, can still its hunger more easily than the fox, and is more selective with a baited location. Naturally, its table is not richly spread in the winter, but it nevertheless fairly often manages to take village mutts, for which it has a preference. Should it not have any luck with this, then it will be bolder and also prowl during the day. And in Romania, where the feeding of sheep and goats in stalls is unknown, it will manage to take some sheep despite the watchfulness of the shepherds and dogs, and some goats. The thick bushy forests around Romanian villages are much in its favour, and these allow it to move unnoticed into the middle of the flock.

There is hardly anything more exciting than waiting in the bait hide. And not only for the hunter, but also for the nature lover as there is something unique about such a moonlit winter night, with a heavily snowed slope in front of one with the forest behind it as a backdrop. This is particularly so when wild predators are available that have been driven to range far by hunger, then one will not, despite the sparse comforts of the shooting hut, have to contend with boredom.

A good situation for the shooting hut is the most important thing. It is of much worth, should it be possible, to have a large fence or a deep trench between the shooting hut and the bait location, so that wild animals can encircle the bait without getting wind of the people in the hut. This must also not be particularly noticeable. If it is hidden behind a fence or cut into a slope, with only a small opening left for firing, then it will not only be the fox and the wolf that would be attracted by the bait, but also martens and wild cats.

The first to appear is always the fox. Hardly had darkness descended, it had already walked in from the edge of the forest, soon appears from the bush, and soon free into the clearing. Now it has smelt the bait. Carefully, still keeping close to the trees, it comes nearer to test the wind. But it does not dare to come completely into the open, patters uncertainly here and there, then sits and looks studiously across. But it appears to still be too early in the evening, or it seems somehow suspicious; the fox trots away. And then it is night. The full Moon lends the snow banks an armour of glimmering light as a black, bristly fur appears up a slope from an oak wood. All kinds of noises can be heard from beyond. In the forest below sounds the sharp hopping of a rabbit on its way to the field, the barking of dogs in the distance, then the careful trotting of the fox, which still remains in the area. A Tawny owl shadows over the scene, sets itself down on the fence near the shooting hut, and turns its head questioningly to the bait. Then the fox reappears. It is suddenly visible on the edge of the trees, and sits down hardly 50 paces from the bait. The tail is beating softly against its legs. It stares across for a long time. And then it begins to bark. However, it is not a light, ringing bark but by a sharp frost, dem Gejaid jagender Bracken nicht unähnlich (Additional note: that one has me flummoxed.), but rather a hot hissing, sometimes deeper and sometimes higher, a screeching, a sharp groaning. It wanders around whilst do so, trots up and down and then sits, the nose stretched up to the sky. But it suddenly desists. It takes a couple of paces forward, then looks and listens, and then disappears in a rush. After a short, careful run everything goes silent. But not for long. Two dark shadows appear from the oak ridge to the left, and they quickly move across the surface of the snow and approach. These are wolves. This is shown by the massive skull, the short erect ears, the compressed build of the chest and, above all, by the short, strongly bushy tail that is carried hanging down. The wolves really cross over towards the bait. But, while one comes inquisitively nearer and then pauses, the other remains at a distance. This moment, however, does not allow enough time to deliver the first shot.

It is a beautiful specimen. A strong dog, black on the back and head, grey on the flanks, the underside light grey. The ears are red with black tips, nose and legs are almost stag red.

Rarely are females coloured like that, usually duller, and they are always smaller. The adult males, though, of the Siebenbürgischen forests reach a respectable size. In the winter of 1906, I shot a dog which stood at 85cm and had a length of 1.8m. Brehm offers a length of only 1.6m. But such wolves can be shot but rarely, as the bait by the shooting hut only appeals to younger wolves. In such cases, the wolf approaches with little more than a short check for safety. The fox, however, comes to the bait only after taking much care, circles it for a long time, often until the grey of morning, and then will only first attempt to take it when overcome with hunger.

The tracks of the wolf can easily be distinguished from those of a dog, although this is often disputed. The wolf does not strap along like the fox and does has a much less sidewards movement than a dog, and hardly ever uses a stretched gait. As a consequence, the impression of the ball of the foot is always much larger than that for a very big dog, rounder and the claws are more evenly spread out from one another. With frozen snow, even when the crust is very thin, the wolf will not break through the surface whereas the dog, even if it is a small one, will have to wade through. With fresh snow, its tracks will not go in as deeply, and sometimes impressions from the tail can be recognised. Should a pack be on the move, then they will not all use the same lane. One will soon go to the right, another to the left, and then a short arc will lead them back to the pack.

The wolf will not be attracted by every bait. It is almost always interested in rotting meat and is most partial to dog, cat and the entrails of game, but mostly leaves fresh meat. This has the lucky consequence that one has little success with poisoned baits in the state forests of Carpathian lands. That method generally involves an old horse simply being led to the appointed place to be killed, and then prepared with poison. But, as long as the meat is fresh, then it will not interest a wolf; however, by the time it has rotted, then the poison has already lost its effect... I said 'luckily' it has little success because the use of poisoned baits is inexcusable even when used on wolves. And especially so in this case, when they have not been laid for the purpose of combating a serious plague or from concerns of game protection, but rather so as to produce a side income into the homes of a few foresters. The wolves do cause damage, and sometimes rather a lot of damage, as it is impossible for them to do otherwise given the exceptionally careless methods of pasturage used by the Romanians. But the farmer of the Carpathian lands can easily afford the loss of a few sheep; he even expects this to happen, as he always keeps more sheep than can be maintained, as he does not know of rational breeding programmes. And as for the game animals, their worst enemy is provided by the many sheepdogs kept by the Romanians, supposedly because of the wolves, but which, day in and day out, chase after the rabbits and deer, and nobody would concern themselves about this as long as the legalities have been observed. Because of this, the wolf is nothing more than one enemy among many for the local wild animals.

Wolves can also be killed by drive hunts (Ill. 2). But this is rarer; then the forests here are so endlessly large and the mountains so frequent, that managing to complete a drive, without the wolf escaping, is difficult. Should it not be able to disappear to the side, then it will always allow the driver to come very close before carrying on in the direction of the shooters. Indeed, it can also occur that it bounds off like a rabbit, rushes past the driver and escapes to the rear. The wolf will also sometimes sit very still, and only first move when forced to do from extremely close range and, as happened to one shooter in my area, who had only just taken up his position, it was naturally missed with both barrels on account of the surprise.

The wolf does not require any especially strong shot; any kind of bullet that can be used for badgers is entirely sufficient. Should it, however, be only wounded and get away, then if it happens to come across one of its own kind, then it would be mercilessly eaten.

The cheekiness of the fox is tripled by that of the wolf. This goes so far that it can often show crass stupidity. It so happened three years ago that a wolf, being followed by one of my dogs, came close to my house, and it only stopped when I threw the window open. Although I made much noise in so doing, and the wolf must have clearly seen me by the moonlight, he just stood there and stared at me. Unfortunately, I only had a revolver available and was not able to fatally wound it.

But it is not only at night, but also during the day, that the wolf can display such audacity. It has occurred here twice within a short space of time that a wolf has been surprised locally in broad daylight. The first was killed with a Knüttel, but things went even better with the second, as it was caught alive when a Romanian simply held it fast by the head until more people arrived. The wolf naturally tried to defend itself vigorously, but it found it could do little to its assailant wearing the thick sheep skin.

Should the wolf have finally taken a bait, then it does not allow the meal to be interrupted with ease. Even if three dogs are barking around, it will just show its teeth and carry on eating quietly. At the end of January of this year, it happened that a keen hunter, positioned in the shooting hut by the bait site, saw two animals approaching and thought they were dogs. When one of them went for the bait, he opened the window and shouted at it a number of times. But the animal merely raised its head a bit and carried on eating quietly. At this point the hunter fired. But when he went outside, so as to get the presumed dog out of the way, he was more than a little astonished that this shot of his had brought down his fifth wolf. It was a weak, one-year old dog, and that, along with the darkness before the rise of the Moon, had caused the misidentification.

It would be a shame if the wolf, which still finds a refuge in the Carpathians, were to disappear from these forests. It is so characteristic for these enormous forests, and the disappearance of the wolf would deprive the forest of a great attraction. Whether for the nature lover or the hunter, there is nothing more beautiful than happening upon the track of a wolf in the deeply snowed wood, to follow it for a while so as to experience how this large carnivore proceeded with an extended gait, frequently stopping to test the wind, and now and then changing its course. And whoever has the luck to observe wolves on the move at night, their power, the savagery of this beast in its homeland of the wintry forest, to feel, they would not swap this pleasure for any other. And nothing can excuse the use of poisoned baits against wolves in this extensive forest. The danger to people from wolves is much too small, and the pasture animals that fall as its victims can be amply excused, given the way the Romanians keep their livestock. Lone wolves never attack people, and it only very rarely occurs with two or three in lonely areas. I can give an example of this. Once, in January, as I was returning home at about three in the morning, I was still a half-hour from home when I saw two wolves approaching towards the street. Equipped with a bit of courage and a strong hatchet, I went up to the wolves and, as they noticed me, they remained in the snow. They let me come within fifty paces and then, one after the other, they turned and slowly retreated. After I had returned to the street, they followed my path slowly at a distance of about a hundred paces, and then turned off on their way across the field. I believe I can confidently use this case to illustrate the rule. Naturally, if there had been a larger number of wolves, then the picture could have been different. But large packs have become rare, and that is due to our culture pressing ever deeper into the forests, and that has had more effect then the most enthusiastic laying of poison.

An index of more of my translations of old Kosmos articles can be found at:

Kosmos Translations Archive

A number of Mesozoic (and post-Mesozoic) location summaries can be found at Localities.