Monday, Oct. 25, 1982

To Kill or Not to Kill

By Frederic Golden

Some verbal duels between hunters and defenders of wildlife

When rifle shots ring across the nation's forests and marshlands each fall, they signal the renewal of a perennial debate: How much hunting can be permitted without threatening the well-being of a species? Sometimes the answers are neither easy nor obvious:

Man vs. Moose. The bull moose is the largest animal in the North American woods, standing as tall as six feet at the shoulders and weighing up to 1,800 lbs. with antlers six feet across. Yet the moose is about as ferocious as a mouse. Many hunters concede that shooting the lumbering, dimwitted beasts is about as challenging as firing at a Goodyear blimp.

Thus, when Maine sanctioned an official moose season last month for the first time in 47 years, it triggered an angry controversy. State fish and wildlife authorities said that the six days of hunting, during which 880 animals were killed, would not damage a herd that has increased more than tenfold since 1935 to a current population of more than 20,000. But many Down Easters found the slaughter distasteful. Said Outdoorsman John N. Cole, contributing editor of the weekly Maine Times: "The moose is Maine's state animal. If we are going to change that status and hunt it, there ought to be a vote of all the people." A pro-moose outfit called SMOOSA (for Save Maine's Only Official State Animal) already has collected some 40,000 signatures protesting annual moose hunts, enough to place the issue on next year's state ballot.

Howling over Wolves. The stately timber wolf across the U.S. It is now all but except in a few untrampled regionslike the north of Minnesota. Some 1,200 wolves roam freely in the north woods roam freely in the area, as much to the chargin of farmers, who argue that the canines are a threat to livestock. Says Delmer Schroeder of Embarrass, Minn., who has lost three calves, as well as three dogs, in the past five years: "They're coming right into the yards. Before long one of them is going to attack our children."

In 1973 the Department of the interior placed the timber wolf on ts endangered species list. But un der pressure from Minnesota authorities, the department downgraded the wolfs status to a threatened species, allowing eradication of so-called problem wolves, like the pair that strolled into a mining company lunchroom in the town of Babbitt last year.

Many environmentalists are worried about a further loosening of protection. They deny that wolves are a major threat to livestock, arguing that most of the reported kills are probably the work of coyotes. They also fear that even a limited hunt will disrupt the intricate social structure of wolf packs and cause unpredictable predatory behavior. More than a dozen environmental groups, including one called HOWL (for Help Our Wolves Live), say they will sue the Federal Government if it lets Minnesota declare an open season on wolves.

Going to the Dogs. To tourists, there are no cuter animals: cuddly, light brown bundles of fluff that kiss (to identify each other) and wag their tails. To farmers and ranchers of the Plains states, prairie dogs are a major nuisance: they feast on valuable grasslands and dig hidden burrows that can break the leg of a horse or cow.

In 1972 the Federal Government sharply curtailed a program to poison the ubiquitous barking little rodents because the toxic agents were also killing other animals. As a result, the prairie dogs are proliferating. In South Dakota (pop. 690,000), there are believed to be 15 times as many prairie dogs as people. Ranchers have filed suit to force Washington to resume its tough anti-prairie dog policies. Even environmental groups like the Sierra Club admit that there is a need for at least a limited control effort.

The Gators Snap Back. By the 1950s, alligator hunting had become so widespread in the swamps of the Southland that the great reptiles seemed headed for oblivion. Now, after years of federal protection, they are making a ferocious comeback. In Florida, fish and game officials get frequent calls from frightened homeowners demanding the removal of alligators from their backyard ponds or canals. The toothy beasts have attacked swimmers, eaten of alligator skins and meat. A recently published state booklet spells outs the virtues of alligator meat (tender, low fat), which sells in some Louisiana markets for about $3.50 per lb. Environmentalists protest that legalized harvesting will only serve as a cover for more poaching. But many wildlife experts disagree. They say that any measure that makes the hides plentiful, and thus less valuable, will discourage the kind of senseless slaughter that brought the animals to the verge of extinction a few decades ago. --By Frederic Golden. Reported by Barry Hillenbrand/Boston and). Madeleine Nash/Chicago

With reporting by Barry Hillenbrand, J. MADELEINE NASH

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