Day late, was up in the big northwoods for the weekend.

Last week we talked about panthers, this week back to wolves, and specifically the "mad" (likely rabid) wolf attack during the 1833 rendezvous.

From Robert Campbell:
While we were at Green River, I met Bonneville, Dripps and then there was our company, making
three companies. We were located a mile apart for the purpose of not having our animals mingle.
One night a mad wolf came into our three camps and bit ten or twelve men. He rushed into my
camp and bit two of the animals.

From Larpenteur:
A day or so later we learned that a mad wolf had got into Mr. Fontenelle’s camp about five miles
from us, and had bitten some of his men and horses. My messmates, who were old hands, had
heard of the like before, when men had gone mad. It was very warm, toward the latter end of
July; we were in the habit of sleeping in the open air, and never took the trouble to put up the
tent, except in bad weather; but when evening came the boys set up the tent. Some of the other
messes asked, “What is that for?” The reply was, “Oh, mad wolf come — he bite me.” When the
time came to retire the pack saddles were brought up to barricade the entrance of our tent; the
only one up in camp, excepting that of the boss. After all hands had retired nothing was heard in
the camp except, now and then, the cry of “All’s well,” and some loud snoring, till the sudden cry
of, “Oh, I’m bitten!” — then immediately another, and another. Three of our men were bitten that
night, all of them in the face. One poor fellow, by the name of George Holmes, was badly bitten
on the right ear and face. All hands got up with their guns in pursuit of the animal, but he made
his escape. When daylight came men were mounted to go in search, but nothing could be seen of
him. It was then thought that he had gone and was not likely to return, and no further precaution
was taken than the night before. But it seems that Mr. Wolf, who was thought far away, had hidden
near camp; for about midnight the cry of “mad wolf ” was heard again. This time the animal
was among the cattle and bit our largest bull, which went mad afterward on the Big Horn, where
we made the boats. The wolf could have been shot, but orders were not to shoot in camp, for fear
of accidentally killing some one, and so Mr. Wolf again escaped. But we learned afterward that he
had been killed by some of Mr. Fontenelle’s men.

From Meek, River of the West:
During the indulgence of these excesses, while at this rendezvous, there occurred one of those incidents
of wilderness life which make the blood creep with horror. Twelve of the men were bitten
by a mad wolf, which hung about the camp for two or three nights. Two of these were seized with
madness in camp, sometime afterwards, and ran off into the mountains, where they perished.
One was attacked by the paroxysm while on a hunt; when, throwing himself off his horse, he
struggled and foamed at the mouth, gnashing his teeth, and barking like a wolf. Yet he retained
consciousness enough to warn away his companions, who hastened in search of assistance; but
when they returned he was nowhere to be found. It was thought that he was seen a day or two
afterwards, but no one could come up with him, and of course, he too, perished. Another died on
his journey to St. Louis; and several died at different times within the next two years.

From W.A. Ferris:
About this time we learned that two persons, who were bitten by a wolf, at last rendezvous, had
died or disappeared suddenly. The circumstances during the hurry and bustle of business at
rendezvous were by mistake not recorded in my journal, though they produced great excitement
at that time. They were as follows: whilst we were all asleep, one night, an animal, supposed to be
a dog, passed through camp, bit several persons as they lay, and then disappeared. On the following
morning considerable anxiety was manifested by those who were bitten, under the apprehension
that the animal might have been afflicted with the hydrophobia, and several of them took
their guns and went about camp, shooting all suspicious looking dogs; but were unable to determine
that any one was positively mad. During the day information came from the R. M. F. Co.,
who were encamped a short distance below us on the same side of the river, that several men were
likewise bitten in their camp during the night, and that a wolf supposed to be rabid, had been
killed in the morning. The excitement which this affair originated, however, gradually subsided,
and nothing more was heard of mad-dogs or wolves. In the fall subsequent, one the persons who
had been bitten, a young Indian brought from the council Bluffs by Mr. Fontenelle, after having
given indications of the hydrophobia, disappeared one night from camp and was heard of no
more. The general impression being, that he wandered off while under its influence, and perished.
Another individual died of that horrible malady, after having several violent spasms, while
on his way from the mountains to St. Louis, in company with two others. Whether there have
been any more instances of the kind, I am not informed.

Rendezvous of 1837, by Alfred Jacob Miller

Keep them coming. Very interesting, I like this kind of stuff.....j

Rabies is so frightening. I watched a video once of someone affected in India and it haunted me

One tidbit in there that is surprising to me...the mention of having cattle. I know that horses and mules were standard for the mountains but had never heard mention of oxen or cows. I had thought that Whitman's were the first to bring oxen and wagons into the mountains.

I'm very glad I have rabies shots

Good read KSnow