Coyotes are different in various parts of North America. I recall in Novemeber 1994, it was a solid 35 below C in SW Alberta Canada, when I was setting up a scout camp for a winter retreat to come on the weekend. The camp is rather isolated, as is much of the region, but this spot specifically is devoid of any paved roads for several Kilometers in all directions.
Back on that date in 1994, late at night, under a full moon to boot, I left the cabin (known as the Rovers' Den) to go and pinch a loaf off in the trees. About 20 meters down the makeshift road, amongst a labrynth of white spruce trees, I had that creepy feeling in my spine; something was following me. Those of you who know what it is like to stroll across fresh crisp snow through a forest where there is no wind can relate to the eerieness of the experience; every little sound is audible. In any event, I turned around instinctiveley to find a normal sized coyote walking up to me from where I had just been. He was alone, and I thought I could scare him off by making a sudden movement towards his direction. He didn't waver, but instead kept walking toward me. I thought to myself "hey maybe this is just some farmer's dog who is lost" and I began to speak to him in a soothing voice. Then the animal stopped coming towards me. I got a better look at him since he was, at this point, only 10 feet away or so, and he was definitely a coyote. I immediately rotated side to side to check my flanks, and I think the rustle of my military parka startled the coyote, and he dove into the trees and went on his merry way. I found this encounter unusual, since in the same area, I have chased coyotes on foot and on snowmobiles with no sign of agression on their part. To make this already long story less long, I finished my business in the woods and returned to the cabin for a pleasant night of sleep. The next morning, the coyote sighting was forgotten, that is until I heard horrible sounds of an attack coming from across the frozen lake, which was only a hundred meters or so from the cabin. The day was bright and sunny, so I set out on foot with my full gear and rucksack to see just what the hell had transpired. After a long trek, I came across the kill zone, where it appeared a bird of some sort (grouse likely) had been ripped up savagely by predators. Close examination of the tracks led me to believe it was a coyote pack. Wolves were common in the area, but the tracks were not those of wolves. I returned to the cabin to continue preparation for the scout camp weekend coming up, and the rest of the day went uneventful. Around dusk, however, I heard, yet again, noises from the other side of the lake. This time, it was both yelping AND human voices yelling! I hopped in the truck and sped through the winding frozen trails for a couple of kilometers only to find a man with a dogsled pulled by very small dogs; not the typical huskies known to pull a sled, these dogs were miniatures. Apparently, his dog team had been confronted by an attacking force of coyotes, and his hollering, combined with the sound of my approaching truck drove the pack away. The man was thankful for (and surprised by) my intervention, and he was genuinely pleased none of his little dogs were hurt. He picked up and headed back for his truck at the access road about a click away.
As a result of these events, the scout camp trip for that weekend was cancelled, it was deemed to risky to have children mucking about in the snow out there with the Coyotes on the prowl. That is also the first and only time I have ever heard of or witnessed coyotes actively stalking prey with humans present. Usually, they are too afraid to come near, but that winter, they were desperate! Before this experience, I would have been the first to say "bah, coyotes don't come near people" but having seen it first hand, I can assure you all, coyotes can and will stalk if they are dire.
Glenn
