♪ Around the lonely campfire
♪ when the wolves begin to call ♪
♪ The riders tell the story
♪ of the bravest wolf of all ♪
♪ The king of all the hunters
♪ born to lead the rest
♪ his name became a legend
♪ across the great southwest
♪ lobo ♪ lobo
♪ your name will survive
♪ for no man could bring you in ♪
♪ Dead or alive
♪ lobo ♪ lobo
♪ your name will survive
♪ for no man could bring you in ♪
♪ Dead or alive
like everything else,
a good legend's got to have a good beginning.
The right bloodline, you might say.
This one began even before lobo's time...
With a wolf famous in his own right.
He was a big, rangy fella. He used to roam a wide piece of the territory...
Back when it was still empty and mighty fine to look at.
Around the neighborhood, he was known as the fierce one.
In the local Spanish, El feroz.
The vaqueros had a great deal of respect for him too.
Fact is, it amounted to a kind of a superstition.
Some of 'em claimin' he was a spirit wolf.
Well, this El feroz was lobo's father.
So for breed and blood, lobo came from a good line.
It was in the spring of '89 he was born,
a litter of five pups, two brothers and a couple of sisters.
That's about the usual family for wolves.
Now, these young 'uns are off to a good start on a number of counts.
For one thing, they were lucky just havin' El feroz for their dad.
It's a common thing in nature for the male animal to kill his offspring,
if he can get to 'em.
But the wolf's different. He's about the best parent there is,
because he's gentle with his young.
The wolf's loyal too.
Somethin' most folks don't realize is that wolves mate for life.
It's for all time.
The male and the female both being devoted to each other and the family.
For a real fine domestic arrangement,
there's probably not another one like it anywhere in nature.
At six weeks of age, lobo wasn't much of a legend,
not yet anyway.
He was bright-eyed and full of mischief,
but he looked exactly like his brothers and sisters.
And at this stage of the game, nobody would have bet on him as a future king of the range.
About the only thing different maybe,
he was a little more curious than the rest of the litter.
He sort of liked to follow his nose,
find out what is goin' on around the neighborhood.
But bein' a little new at this, he sometimes followed it too far.
Well, if you're gonna leave your common sense at home when you go travelin',
you're bound to land in trouble.
Still, the school of hard knocks isn't a bad place to start an education,
and lobo caught on fast.
The truth was, all of his life, he'd be one to learn from experience...
And, what's more important, store it up and remember it.
By now it was plain that the pups were growin' fast...
And about ready for good red meat.
So El feroz checked over his boneyard to see what was left.
The bone he finally dug up was the last one.
Pretty slim pickin's for a hungry family.
About all it was good for was a tug-of-war.
There wasn't enough nourishment in this old soup bone to feed a canary.
El feroz knew it was time to go huntin' again.
♪ He'll feed his hungry young ones ♪
♪ El feroz searched for game ♪
♪ But there was not a scent of prey ♪
♪ Throughout his wild domain
♪ across the endless wastelands ♪
♪ His lonely trail had led
♪ and then at last he spied them ♪
Pronghorn antelope, his favorite prey.
♪ His family would be fed
An antelope's faster than a jackrabbit on the takeoff,
but he can't keep it up forever.
The wolf, on the other hand, is a stayer.
He can hold the pace for hours on end when he wants to.
He can even outlast a good strong horse.
So this is how it was.
El feroz was countin' on one of the herd fallin' behind.
Sure enough, a big pronghorn buck pulled up winded and heavin',
too tired to go another step.
Now the chase was over. The rest would be easy,
except that El feroz wasn't in a hurry to move in for the kill.
He began to work this antelope like a good cuttin' horse,
headin' it back in the direction they had come.
This was an old, old trick.
If a wolf chased his prey miles away from where he wanted it...
Say, a half day's journey from a hungry family...
He didn't end things too soon.
Instead, he'd send it along home under its own power.
Back at the den, these little young 'uns were bein' as patient as they could,
exceptin' it wasn't natural for pups to be very patient when they were hungry.
They growled a little, grumbled a little,
chewed on things and generally felt sorry for themselves.
If they'd only known it, they really had somethin' to complain about.
A cougar was pokin' around in their vicinity.
And if he found 'em, it could mean trouble.
Real bad trouble.
When one of these big cats was circulatin', nothin' was safe.
Stealthy, tricky,
he'd sneak up soft and silent, never betrayin' his presence,
never givin' a warning either.
Seemed like right about now, the wolves had been dealt a losing hand.
Then at the last minute, a wild card turned up.
There was somethin' about cougars that just naturally...
Brought out hatred in cowpunchers.
Of course, the big cats were death on horses and other livestock,
but the resentment seemed more than that almost.
It was kind of unreasoning, and it generally took the form of a rifle bullet.
Now, this went for wolves too.
And right at this moment, little lobo couldn't know how close he was...
To gettin' a lead slug of his own.
About that time, El feroz came home with part of his kill.
Right off, he knew somethin' was wrong.
It didn't take him long to unravel the mystery.
He could have figured it out by the scent alone...
And catchin' sight of the riders only confirmed his conclusions.
Humans had been here, and they'd probably be back.
It was time to pull up stakes and move on.
When the whereabouts of a wolf's den isn't secret anymore,
he'll find himself a new one,
'cause the one thing he's got to have is privacy.
Of course, when that day comes, father just acts as guide.
It's mother who does all the totin' and carryin'.
All right, dear. Get a move on. Let's get goin'.
Since there was only room for one passenger at a time,
each of the pups had to wait his turn,
but lobo wasn't in the mood for waitin'.
Like a stray on the tail end of the herd, he came taggin' along behind,
doin' his best to keep up.
It was gettin' plainer every minute that he wasn't any mountain goat.
But if he wanted it this way, his mother seemed willing to let him work it out.
He wasn't a quitter. No, sir.
He stayed with it, and in the end, he came out on top.
Now, once on the trail, the parents moved along at a steady lope.
It was a little tough on the pups,
bein' short coupled with short legs tryin' to keep up.
Now, there was no time for the sights,
no time to fool around with strangers.
Bein' the curious one, lobo stopped to say howdy.
The tortoise wasn't much on hospitality.
He just wanted to mind his own business.
Trouble was, he was gettin' a lot of unwanted help.
Finally figurin' to sidetrack his escort,
the old slowpoke veered off the trail.
The sashayin' was over, but the pup was a little late gettin' the point.
By now lobo had forgotten all about his parents. It was sort of mutual.
Being concerned with house hunting, they had their minds on other things too.
The pup, meanwhile, had taken up with a new sidekick,
another funny-looking critter in a suit of armor.
Seemed like everybody around here wore it.
Maybe this is what made 'em all so standoffish.
Well, in a matter of bein' friendly,
lobo decided it was up to him to make the first move.
Now, an armadillo's got tender ears,
about the only thing on him that's unprotected.
Hurt his ears and you've hurt his feelings, for sure.
All this time the family had been coverin' more and more ground,
gettin' farther and farther away,
and still they hadn't missed lobo.
So at a rather young age, he was left playin' lone wolf...
And findin' it a bit tedious.
He was hot, tired and thirsty.
To make matters worse, his feet hurt.
It kind of dawned on him along about this point...
That he was travelin' in circles.
He was lost, just about as lost as they come.
Purely by accident, he stumbled onto a catch basin of rainwater.
Just enough left for a quick drink and a soothing cooling bath...
For his achin' feet.
His wet tracks would have been easy to follow...
If anybody'd come along in time, but that wasn't likely.
The family was a couple of canyons away before they hauled up to count noses.
Now, wolves don't excite easy.
The fact that a pup was missin' didn't mean much.
They figured he was still bringin' up the rear as usual,
and he'd be along in his own good time.
In makin' his rounds, El feroz had had his eye for quite a spell...
On a deserted badger hole.
With a little fixin', it'd do just fine for a den,
so he took possession.
[ Animal snarling, feroz growling ]
It appeared the place wasn't vacant, after all.
Tenant was livin' here,
and he wasn't figurin' to move.
Badger's a tough critter to handle, even for a wolf,
and this one wasn't gonna budge for anybody.
He might be small, but he was fast on his feet...
And dead game.
Fact is, it turned out to be quite a dance.
Heel-and-toe and do-si-do all around the hall.
Finally, El feroz decided to call it quits.
He wasn't gettin' anywhere in this game.
Besides, he had a lost pup to worry about,
and it was time he went lookin' for him.
The first move was to try to pick up his trail.
It would still be fresh enough to follow if the parents could find it,
but that was the big "if."
They tried callin' to him the old pack rallyin' cry,
hopin' he'd hear it and know enough to answer it.
There wasn't even an echo, nothin' but silence.
One thing was certain. They'd better catch up with him soon,
'cause lobo was courtin' disaster.
A rattler has a built-in warning system for those who know what it means.
But bein' a greenhorn, lobo didn't get the message.
Sensing he was in danger, he began to call for help.
Lucky for him, his parents were within earshot.
It didn't take long to size up the situation.
They knew exactly what to do.
Draw the snake's attention to themselves.
If they could just keep the rattler busy,
the pup might slip out of the danger zone.
Trouble with this plan, the way out was squeezed a little narrow.
Besides, would the pup know when to come?
From the sidelines, El feroz could see it was a standoff,
and he decided it needed a quick ending.
Once the rattler was rooted out, his play was over.
Now lobo could rejoin his family,
sore-footed and tuckered out maybe,
but glad to be back where he belonged.
As the weeks went by, lobo branched out more and more on his own,
traipsing around exploring the countryside.
One fine mornin', he was amblin' along...
Not doin' much of anything,
when he came upon a sight that stopped him in his tracks.
A young antelope was feelin' his oats.
He didn't seem to mind where he was goin'...
Just so long as he got there in a jiffy.
He was a kind of a crazy little cuss,
rambunctious and full of the old vinegar.
To watch him knock this pup around,
you'd think he'd never heard of wolves eatin' antelopes.
Well, like as not at his age, he hadn't.
These two weren't old enough to know they were supposed to be enemies,
so an unusual friendship developed,
one of those things that sometimes happens in nature.
In the weeks that followed, they sort of grew up together.
And when they were three months old, they were still goin' around as pals.
Often as not, their trail led to their favorite hangout,
a little creek runnin' through the neighborhood.
It was a real inviting spot for a couple of dry country young 'uns.
And they didn't need to be told what a swimmin' hole was for.
Naturally, the pup favored the dog paddle.
The other fella's style wasn't as neat maybe,
but it got him where he was goin' just the same.
While all this was goin' on,
they were being spied on by a non-too-friendly raccoon.
She kind of took the attitude that water belonged to water critters...
And not to landlubbers like these.
The raccoon had a family to worry about, too,
and that tended to make her leery of strangers.
Nups are like that though.
The kids couldn't see anything wrong with the visitors.
If it was to be a swimmin' party, they'd join in right now.
Three of 'em would anyway.
The fourth one... well, it took him a little longer to make the plunge.
Whenever you get a passel of small fry together,
it's about the same in nature as with humans.
After a while, their animal energy is apt to bust out in a squabble.
So the party ended, and wolf and antelope moved on.
Something else had ended too: Their unusual friendship.
It's just not natural for enemies to prolong an acquaintance.
And as it had to be in such things,
these two came to the fork in the trail.
By the time he was six months old,
lobo was ready to run with the family pack.
He was bigger now, heavier, more like his dad in every way.
Every way except one, he wasn't much help yet with the hunting.
To El feroz, meantime,
it seemed the hungrier his family got, the scarcer the game got.
More and more civilization was pushing into the parts,
killing off his prey or crowdin' it out.
♪ It seemed to old El feroz ♪
♪ The trail herd that he saw
♪ was some new breed of buffalo ♪
♪ Movin' through the draw
♪ again there would be plenty
♪ the wolves would have their fill ♪
♪ And so he brought his family ♪
♪ To join him in the kill
Makin' a kill wasn't exactly easy though.
It was a tricky business, even downright dangerous.
If the timing was off, a wolf could get himself kicked senseless.
And if the set-to was a challenge for El feroz, the old master,
it was somethin' more than that for his pups.
Just when lobo thought he had the thing down pat,
he found himself with a bull by the tail and afraid to let go.
What in blazes do ya do now?
About that time the calf had sense enough to join the rest of 'em.
And now it had protection that was gonna be hard to beat.
El feroz kept dancin' around, keepin' his eye on the calf.
For one thing, it was nearer his size,
and he was figurin' there might be a way to slicker the guards out of position.
Of course, he wasn't foolin' anybody really.
The steers were wise to him and quick to match his move.
There'd be another chance.
Put wolves and cattle together and sooner or later there will be a killin'.
When the buffalo were wiped out,
it left cattle as the wolves' only hope for survival.
So El feroz took what seemed his rightful share,
but the cattlemen weren't sharin' with anybody.
And from the very beginning, it was open warfare.
Along about that point, the cowboys got lucky.
The mother was knocked down.
She got right up and went on,
but she wasn't in any shape for a long grindin' chase now.
El feroz lagged back from time to time,
encouragin' her, hopin' she'd catch up.
But he had the young ones to think of, too, and he had to go on.
The female was gettin' near the end of her rope.
A wounded animal knows when it's reached its limit.
And typical-like, she went off to find a resting place.
Maybe the riders would miss the turnoff...
And give her a much needed breathing spell.
But that's not the way it was to be.
♪ Lobo, lobo
♪ remember this day
♪ man's bullets have taken
♪ your mother
♪ away
♪ lobo, lobo
♪ there's no lookin' back
♪ now you must abandon her
♪ run with the pack
Never again would lobo forget the smell of gunpowder.
He got to know rifles by sight,
and he wouldn't let man nor horse come within a thousand yards of him.
Yet all the time, he and the family pack kept takin' more and more cattle.
Before long, the cattlemen's battle seemed to be a losin' one.
The enemy was almost too smart.
Maybe it was a war calling for more than guns.
To catch a wolf in those days, the cowman had to learn to think like one.
The trick was to make him outsmart himself.
A wolf's an intelligent critter.
Fact is, there's not many to match him when it comes to figurin' things out.
So if a trap was gonna fool him, it had to be rigged up with some extra special trimmings.
A little dogie was about the most delectable come-on.
There was something about young veal that was well-nigh irresistible.
Once the decoy was staked out,
the next thing was to plant the trap where the wolf would have to pass.
The trap could be most any standard make.
It had to be strong though, like, say, a well-made number 4.
Not big as a bear trap maybe, but big enough...
And smooth workin' with a fast action.
Well, these preparations had been pretty thorough.
You might say they had a touch of genius about 'em,
'cause next morning it looked like nature herself was in on the deal,
playin' it on the cattlemen's side.
El feroz came on in the lead.
He was still headin' up the family pack.
And quick as a wink, he spotted the calf.
Naturally, he was tempted, and why not?
A free meal like this.
But before he made any move hasty-like, he sniffed around a bit just checkin' on things.
This all seemed a little too good to be true.
Might be that was what was wrong with it.
Maybe he'd better back off and size things up again.
Like an unexpected gunshot, the trap sent the young wolves a-scatterin'.
They ducked out of sight quick, all except lobo.
He sensed something wasn't right.
There wasn't much he could do for El feroz except lend him the comfort of his company.
Still, there's a kind of nobleness in the wolf.
In the unexplained way of the breed, he stayed by,
prepared to keep watch to the end.
Then the riders came back.
Lobo knew he'd have to leave. He had no choice.
For all wild animals, there comes the moment when they must go their own road.
And for lobo that moment was now.
♪ The time had come for lobo
♪ to make his way alone
♪ and loneliness and hunger
♪ were things he'd never known ♪
♪ All through the long, long winter ♪
♪ Beneath the frozen sky
♪ lobo learned he must be strong ♪
♪ He must be wise or die
by the next spring, lobo had been a loner about long enough.
It was time to start lookin' for a mate,
and his wanderings took him far from his old haunts into new territory.
One fine morning he met up with some wolves he'd never seen before.
He was of a mind to join 'em.
According to pack law, he might be accepted and he might not.
It sort of depended on whether they wanted him.
As it worked out, they were kind of hankering for a new face too.
Right off, lobo was made welcome.
In the midst of all the jubilation,
he caught sight of a dark beauty on the sidelines,
and he knew his searching was over.
The black female seemed charmed with lobo too.
Before long, an old-fashioned courtship was underway.
Takin' himself a mate wasn't gonna be quite this simple though.
There was a kind of a catch to it.
The one who really had the say was the pack leader,
surly old brute who right away took a dislikin'...
To the young fella from out of the hills.
The pack leader could see he wasn't winnin'.
And when you're not winnin', you might as well do your losin' the easiest way possible.
No sense gettin' yourself killed just for show.
He just tucked his tail between his legs and gave up, simple as that.
And so the lobo legend began to get a little bigger.
From that time on, lobo ran at the head of the pack...
With his mate at his heels...
And a following of the biggest, strongest wolves in the vicinity.
When the mating season came on, the pack split up for a while,
each pair of wolves goin' off by itself.
Some of 'em had dens left over from last year.
But lobo and his mate, bein' new at this,
had to set up housekeeping somewhere brand new.
One day in their scouting, they made a mighty interesting discovery.
Across the canyon was an old Indian cliff dwelling.
Looked like it would just about fill the bill.
Only drawback was, there didn't seem to be any way of gettin' over to it.
Well, where there's a will, there's generally a way.
And it turned out, there was a sort of a crossing.
It was one of those "as the crow flies" things,
and a wolf wantin' to use it was gonna have to be mighty eager to get on the other side.
This didn't seem to bother lobo though.
After lookin' it over good, he undertook to give it a try.
The wolf's a surefooted critter with strong nerves and a steady eye,
and lobo had all the confidence of the breed.
His mate, meanwhile, hung back.
She wasn't near so sure of herself.
Bein' the female, maybe she wasn't so foolhardy.
Finally, after lobo had showed it could be done,
she got up nerve enough to follow him.
Once underway, it wasn't so bad.
Fact is, in time, these wolves would come to use this bridge practically every day.
It came to be a part of the lobo legend.
The cliff dwelling, when they got to it, looked real inviting.
The scent of man was long gone.
Besides, to these two, it wasn't a house but a cave...
With all the proper advantages of same.
Dry floor, sheltering walls and a good roof against the rain.
This was it, their new den.
The both of 'em were pleased with their find...
And, what's more important, with each other.
These two had mated for life,
and right about now the life ahead looked good.
The next few weeks were pleasant ones, and the days passed quickly.
Then the time came when lobo's mate didn't hunt with him anymore.
One morning when he got home from makin' his rounds, he found out why.
Sure was a handsome litter.
Lobo was as proud as a new daddy could be.
♪ As leader of the wolf pack
♪ his fame began to spread
♪ for many hundred miles around ♪
♪ A price was on his head
♪ by every law of nature
♪ the cattle were his prey
♪ but to the angry cattlemen
♪ it didn't work that way
♪ lobo ♪ lobo
♪ since man has appeared
♪ he's put you outside the law ♪
♪ Hunted and feared
♪ lobo ♪ lobo
♪ since man has appeared
♪ he's put you outside the law ♪
♪ Hunted and feared
a thousand dollars, a darn sight more than most human outlaws were worth.
Lobo was a legend for sure,
the most notorious name in the whole southwest.
One day a professional hunter from Texas rode into the territory,
hopin' to take the famous wolf that nobody else could catch.
Bounty hunting was his full-time trade,
and he came equipped for it.
He had a killer wolfhound so mean it had to be kept muzzled.
This was his hole card.
But first, a wolf had to be brought to bay.
And for this job, he had a pack of the finest trackin' hounds ever gathered together.
If anybody could bring in lobo, looked like this was the man.
It didn't take the hunter long to see he'd been outsmarted.
This lobo was a lot wiser than he'd figured.
The truth was, he had a kind of a begrudging admiration...
For a wolf that could think up a strategy like this.
Well, if the dogs couldn't bring this fella in, there were other tricks to be tried.
In lookin' over the situation, he'd noticed somethin' important,
a clue about lobo's habits that just might prove his downfall.
To anybody who could read the signs,
the giveaway was printed on the ground beside the log.
The wolf tracks here told their own story.
It was plain as anything...
The wolves always came off the log at this spot.
This was the place for a trap.
The hunter took a lot of care in settin' this one.
He picked an extra strong trap with a hair-trigger action.
Used a special trick to keep the dirt from cloggin' it.
Now it was just a matter of time.
It so happened lobo didn't make his usual rounds that day.
He'd stayed home with the family sort of takin' things easy.
His pups were about three months old now,
gettin' more active every minute.
One of 'em was lobo's particular pride and joy,
the dark little female who was a dead ringer for her mother.
With a family to raise, lobo was apt to be watchin' his step pretty carefully.
The only thing was, this time the man who was out to get him...
Was the best in the business.
When the hunter came back, the trap was gone.
Just as he figured, lobo had come passin' by...
And had stepped down right where he thought he would.
The fact that he wasn't in sight was no cause for worry.
He couldn't have got far 'cause the trap was chained to a heavy drag.
It was leavin' a well-marked trail that would be no trouble at all to follow.
It was a wolf, all right, but the wrong one,
lobo's mate, not the old outlaw himself.
Well, since exterminatin' was his business,
he might as well exterminate her on general principles.
Then a better idea hit him.
If it was lobo he wanted, maybe here was a golden opportunity.
Taken alive, this female was a sure way of gettin' at lobo.
When his mate didn't come home, lobo began to get restless.
He sensed somethin' was wrong.
It wasn't like her to stay away from her pups like this.
He set out to find her, just as the hunter reckoned he would.
At the other end of the bridge, lobo picked up the trail.
His nose told him his mate had been in trouble.
Mixed with her scent was another one, hated and bitter,
a taint in the air he wouldn't ever forget.
♪ The scent of man told lobo ♪
♪ That he must find his mate ♪
♪ But the bounty man was usin' her ♪
♪ To lure him to his fate
♪ the trail was plain to follow ♪
♪ He traveled hard and fast
♪ but he would have searched forever ♪
♪ To find his mate at last
♪ lobo ♪ lobo
♪ there's danger below
♪ but true to your loyal code ♪
♪ There you must go
♪ lobo
♪ there's danger below
♪ but true to your loyal code ♪
♪ There you must go
lobo knew the chance he was takin',
the odds against him.
He came on, steppin' soft,
followin' the fence for protection.
His mate was somewhere near.
His keen nose said so. Then he found her.
She was alive.
Now his problem was how to get to her.
♪ According to the legend
♪ a rally call he cried
♪ it echoed off the rimrock ♪
♪ And carried far and wide
♪ soon ghostly shapes and shadows ♪
♪ Appeared out of the night
♪ in answer to their leader's call ♪
♪ The wolves had come to fight ♪
♪ Lobo ♪ lobo
♪ lobo ♪ lobo
♪ you've gathered your pack
♪ and now you must lead them all ♪
♪ To the attack
♪ lobo ♪ lobo
♪ you've gathered your pack
♪ and now you must lead them all ♪
♪ To the attack
♪ lobo, lobo
♪ your battle is won
♪ but now you must travel on ♪
♪ Now you must run
♪ to your ancestral kingdom
♪ man has come to stay
♪ so, lobo, you must lead your pack ♪
♪ And family far away
♪ beyond the distant mountains
♪ you know that there will be
♪ a place where man won't follow ♪
♪ A land where you'll be free
♪ lobo ♪ lobo
♪ your name will survive
♪ for no man could bring you in ♪
♪ Dead or alive
♪ lobo ♪ lobo
♪ although you are gone
♪ your legend of bravery
♪ lives on and on