from Wolf Island, by L. David Mech with Greg Breining, foreword by Rolf O. Peterson, published 2020, memoir of the first years (1959-61) of the Isle Royale wolf-moose study:
We witnessed a peculiar and entertaining relationship between the island’s wolves and ravens.
A flock of ravens often played leapfrog with the pack of fifteen as it traveled. The birds would fly ahead of the pack, perch in trees until the wolves passed, and then fly ahead of them again.
Sometimes I watched ravens trailing wolves, flying directly along a string of tracks, in an effort to find them. Discovering a fresh scat in the trail, a bird would land, pick the turd apart for edibles, and resume its pursuit.
Once when I watched the wolves attack a moose, the ravens swirled around in obvious anticipation. The wolves wounded the moose, and one bird sat in a tree and called as the wolves tried to force the moose to run.
At every new kill, ravens would flock in the surrounding trees. As soon as the wolves stepped away, the birds would swoop in to peck at the carcass. Sometimes the ravens, like the wolves, would eat bloody snow. Quite likely the wolves’ leftovers were the ravens’ primary winter diet.
One day, after the large pack had pursued an intruder wolf on the southwest end of the island, they crossed Grace Harbor and several wolves flopped down on the ice. Four or five ravens that had been following the pack swooped down to play. The ravens would chase the wolves, flying just above their heads. They would dive at a wolf’s head or tail, and the wolf would duck and leap at a bird. I watched as a raven landed near a resting wolf, walked over, and pecked at its tail. The wolf jumped up and lunged at the raven. I also saw a wolf stalk a raven, which lifted off above the snow at the last fraction of a second and landed again, just a few feet away, and waited for the wolf to attack again. As the wolves assembled and began traveling again, the ravens flew ahead and waited in trees for the pack to catch up and pass them.
These efforts seemed more playful than hostile. I observed these encounters several times, yet I never saw a wolf actually touch a raven. Nor did I find any remains of ravens in the wolf scats I collected. Either the ravens were keenly aware of the wolves’ abilities, or the wolves had no real intention of catching the birds. Perhaps both. Each creature seemed to enjoy the games.
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