The Wolf Hunt

Chapter 5: The Wolf Hunt

The first day of hunting wolves in the Siberian wilderness left Ivan feeling sore and tired. By this time, the dusk was setting in and Ivan’s small party of hunters began to set up camp for the night. Somewhere along the forest tree line, a lonely owl could be heard making muffled foghorn sounds. Ivan climbed off his snowmobile and looked around. He wondered if the wolves could sense the men tracking them. The quiet rustle of the cedars and the pines made Ivan feel wary. He watched Dmitry and Vovan disappear into the dark forest to gather wood for the fire while the rest of the men along with Kolya began to untie sled dogs. Ivan carefully made his way towards Kolya and began to help unpack provisions from the sleds.

As the darkness gathered and the temperature dropped, one of Kolya’s fellow hunters named Igor began to clear away snow for a large tent. He worked fast and efficient. Before long, a neat, cleared area was created for the tent. Long spikes were brought over from one of the snow mobiles and carefully placed in five corners to form a teepee structure. To help Igor with the tent, Ivan retrieved heavy, in some places wet from the snow, tent fabric and brought it over to save time. Just as both of them finished setting up, Dmitry and Vovan emerged from the forest with large branches of wood tucked under their arms. They brought branches inside and began to build a fire. Ivan walked around the tent one last time, to make sure all seams lined up and after careful checking finally went in to warm up. He took his gloves off and rubbed his hands while watching Dmitry and Vovan carefully cut up wood branches, arranging them over a cleared pit. Soon, the crackling, sizzling fire began to intensify and spread warmth throughout the tent.

After some time went by, the rest of the hunters slowly entered the tent and found a place to sit down by the warm fire. Looking around at their frozen faces, Kolya and Igor began to pass sandwiches prepared in advance of their trip by their better halves. Wolf hunters ate their food in silence, scarcely moving. When the color began to return to their faces and hot liquid began to warm up their bellies, Kolya decided to speak up about hunting plans for the next day. “I think we are dealing with a wolf super pack. I've counted over a hundred wolf tracks heading south in an organized formation. They are moving very fast and killing everything in their way. It appears that some dead reindeer were not eaten. Igor here found dead reindeer that were too many to count, and two large bears. They are killing for sport, not for hunger which makes them particularly dangerous.”

Dmitry shook his head in disagreement at Kolya’s words. “How do you know they are killing for sport? If you are right about this pack being so large, then they need to eat once or twice a day to sustain themselves especially if they are moving at the speed of at least 150 kilometers a day. We don’t know if they are hunting for sport.” Dmitry looked at Kolya while raising his eyebrows in a challenging demeanor. Ivan sensed that a disagreement between Dmitry and Kolya was brewing. He felt it back at the village, but decided to ignore it. “Besides,” Dmitry continued addressing Kolya, “How far south do you plan to track them? We’ve gone 30 kilometers further then we planned, and we are falling behind. At this pace we'll be at the Chinese border in two days! We are not equipped to hunt down a super pack. Not enough men, not enough traps, not enough resources. It’s impossible!” Dmitry was known to be a pipe and slippers man, putting too much effort into something did not agree with his view on life. He craved sitting at home in safety and warmth. Kolya was used to Dmitry’s temperament and decided to ignore his whining as he has done many times before. “We are Russian men”, he joked, “we can catch wolves in our underwear and with our bare hands.” The men sitting around the fire let out a hearty laugh. “It’s funny now, Kolya," Dmitry interjected his thoughts, "but you will regret your words when we are up against an army of wolves with nowhere to turn.” Dmitry fell silent reflecting on how the final standoff might happen and if their hunting party would survive it. Kolya waived his hand at Dmitry, “You have a respectful view towards wolves, I will give you that Dima. But don’t worry so much. We are going to track them as far south as they go. I anticipate they will turn back once they reach Abaza, their territory will have to end there. Many good sources of mine say that a Tibetan wolf pack was spotted south of Abaza. Our pack will most likely avoid confrontation with them.” Kolya looked around and saw that several of his fellow hunters were paying careful attention to his words. “Besides,” he continued, “they have numbers on their side, but we have a secret weapon.” Kolya winked at Igor and reached for another sandwich.

The night grew darker and the wind picked up strength. The teepee tent designed to hold ten men was bursting at the seams. Ivan didn’t fully understand how he was going to sleep in a crowded tent in the middle of an icy, desolate wilderness inhabited by vicious predators, but the warmth and stoicism of Siberian spirit infused him with strange calmness. As his eye lids grew heavier and his mind began to drift, he was able to notice that some of the hunters were already asleep in sitting positions, some leaning on each other for support.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ivan noticed that Igor carefully got up trying not to disturb anyone around him, picked up a wooden container on which he was sitting, and made his way to him. Igor was the oldest hunter out of the group and by far the most experienced. He was born and raised in the coldest city in the world, Yakutsk. His family made its way to Kansk in the late eighties where he eventually got married and settled down for good. Igor looked at Ivan and indicated that he wanted to sit down. “I hear you are Aleftina’s nephew. I used to know her well. She was a good woman.” Igor looked at Ivan's empty cup and said, "Here, I have something stronger than tea that will warm you up." He reached inside his beat up looking vatnik and retrieved a small bottle with clear liquid. Ivan immediately realized it was vodka. "Hand me your cup, I will pour you some fiery wine. It will help you sleep." Ivan took the tin cup back from Igor and swallowed all of it's contents in one gulp. The fire in his throat spread quickly, engulfing his stomach almost instantly. Igor watched as Ivan bent over coughing violently. After a few seconds went by, he patted the man's back. The liquid was home-made grain alcohol, much stronger than Ivan anticipated. Dmitry, who was sitting two men away from Ivan, and up until now was watching the fire dance, threw a curious look at Ivan and Igor. Once he realized that Ivan was drinking Russian moonshine, he quickly lost interest and refocused his attention on the fire. As Ivan’s coughing episode subsided and his stomach started to settle, his mind began drifting away into darkness. Another hard slap on his back brought Ivan out of his stupor. He looked at Igor who appeared to be leaning in to whisper something. “Good stuff, isn’t it? I make it myself.” Igor winked at Ivan who managed to smile and nod back in approval. “Tomorrow will be a hard day. You should get some sleep.” Ivan could see that Igor was whispering to him earnestly probably about the hunt, but he was no longer able to discern the words. He tried to remember the last few sentences, but everything became blurred and gradually, his mind went black.

A strong, persistent urge of Ivan’s bladder brought his mind out of a black hole. He did not know how much time has passed since he was awake. Unsure of where he was and what was going on around him, Ivan slowly realized that he was alive, extremely cold and needed to use a bathroom as fast as possible. His mind strained to recall memories of the previous day… A small tent, a large fire, some liquid poison, Igor’s face, and a super pack of wolves. Unable to ignore the intensifying pain of his pulsating bladder, Ivan forced himself to stand up and make his way outside. The bright Siberian morning greeted Ivan with its usual coldness. He looked around, spotted some brush close to the tent and rushed himself to it unzipping his pants on the way.

As soon as the call of nature was answered, Ivan looked around and saw Dmitry and Vovan standing by the snowmobiles waiving for him to join them. Curiously, they were the only ones that Ivan could see. “Other hunters must have gotten an early start,” Ivan thought to himself as he fought to make his way through waist deep snow. The crunchiness of the snow distracted Ivan from hearing a quiet growl coming from the direction of the brush he just visited. By this time, Ivan made it more than half way to the men waiting for him. Oblivious to imminent danger, he proceeded to trek forward when the quiet growl became distinctly loud startling him. Looking up from the snow at Dmitry and Vovan, he saw their faces change and become more tense, alarmed even. As calmly as possible and without slowing down the pace, Ivan reached into his pocket and retrieved a Swiss army knife that he carried with him everywhere. Not a day went by that Ivan did not use his Swiss army knife. He was not a superstitious man, but he did believe that knife brought luck and kept him safe.

No longer aware of brutal cold Ivan felt the time slow down and his heartbeat pick up pace. Just as he was mentally preparing himself for an attack, a loud shot stunned Ivan causing him to trip and fall face down in the snow. A few excruciatingly long seconds went by before he began to raise his head searching for Dmitry and Vovan with his eyes. The hunters hurried past him, smiling, making their way to a bloody dead wolf. “Look at that huge beast!” Vovan exclaimed, “Let’s tie him up and get him on the sleds. The others won’t believe how huge this thing is! Ivan! Come here! Aren’t you glad you took a piss before we killed him?” Dmitry and Vovan enjoyed a laugh while looking at shook up, completely covered in snow Ivan walking up and staring at the dead wolf. “Isn’t he abnormally large?” Ivan knelt down and looked at the beast’s teeth. “Jesus, this thing was going to kill me.” He looked at the hunters who proudly smiled at him. “Yes, old boy, better not sleep in next time, eh? What were you going to do with that Swiss knife? Give him a haircut or trim his nails?” Vovan roared with laughter. “Don’t drink any more of that swill Igor likes to share. It will knock you right out... It’s a good thing we waited for you.” Dmitry responded to Ivan, gently brushing the snow of his shoulders and arms.

“Thank you for waiting guys. I don’t think I would have managed well by myself.” Ivan gratefully looked at Dmitry and Vovan. “By the way, where are the others? Hunting?” He looked around searching the horizon for movement. Vovan shook his head and motioned south with a rifle he still held in his hand, “Igor and Kolya got everyone up before dawn. Most of them headed south, following tracks of the pack, but 3 went back to the village to get more supplies. That’s why we are leaving the tent here, no use taking it down. Those men will be back here by nightfall.” Ivan nodded in agreement and stared at the dead wolf pensively. “Alright then, let’s get the wolf on the sled, I am assuming we are heading south to meet up with the others.”

The wolf turned out to be heavier than Ivan anticipated. Dmitry helped Ivan tie up the dead beast and together they carried it back to the snowmobiles. In no time, three friends were packed up and headed off south following the tracks of the other hunters who left just before dawn. Driving through the Siberian wonderland, Ivan couldn’t help but wonder what Kolya meant when he said they had a secret weapon to kill the wolves. ‘Whatever it is,’ Ivan thought, ‘I hope it’s powerful enough to kill these monsters.’