BAMBI Prt. 3
Taylor was a son of O’Grady, he was slower than the other wolves but one of the best tacticians. He had personally run the last twelve Buffalo in Yellowstone into the canyon below the falls.
He revered his father but of late he was imagining what he would do if he was the leader. Wasting all this time and energy on a fawn seemed “Insane.” But Taylor knew O’Grady’s appetite for the young. O’Grady had told him once,” I love to see the Fear in their eyes and feel their death in my mouth. There is a certain Abrupt Injustice about it that one can only interpret as POWER.”
Taylor was haunted by the Black Wolf they had killed on the ice. He saw him in every shadow and when he slept he would hear the drums and be awakened by the sounds of Death. Silence eluded him, quiet could not be found, and he had not rested in centuries. Destruction was all he had ever known, death was all he had ever seen, he longed for extinction.
Nancy didn’t think at all, she was pure instinct, she would breed but never have pups. Her devotion was to O’Grady and it had its roots in the pain he dealt to her. Abuse was her religion O’Grady was her God. Tears ran from her eyes constantly, her heart wept but she ignored it. Devotion is an ocean, if you can find it you can drown and Nancy was drowning. She was in Love. She never slept, she never ate and she spoke only to herself but she would never answer, she had nothing to say.
The rest of the pack were just killers, soulless minions of death.
There were only eleven wolves left of the ninety that had crossed the water, and they were headed for Dubois.
- DUBOIS -
There are good boys, there are bad boys, and then there is Dubois.
Doug had been born and raised in Dubois and it had broken his heart to see what the environmentalist had done to his town. The timber industry had been the first to go, then the livestock. Tourism and hunting were the town’s last hope, and between the wolf and grizzly, both of those were now gone.
He loved a good horse and was at home with a rifle and had reached the end of his rope. As he saddled his horse Chili, he knew that what he was about to do would be breaking the law, his Grandpa had been a sheriff, so he wasn’t going into this with his eyes closed. But to stand by and do nothing about the brutal assault by the wolf and grizzly on the Elk, moose and deer went against every Wyoming bone in his body.
Men of good conscience suffer fools in silence, until they don’t, Doug was thru suffering fools.
Doug pointed his horse Chili towards Togwotee Pass hoping for a collision with destiny. It was just getting light and he was going to kill wolves.
-Magpie-
Bamby waited for what seemed an eternity then a Magpie appeared. He was very proper in appearance and tried to be aloof but his Magpie nature was hard to control. He loved to talk.
“The owl said I was supposed to take you as far as Warm Springs but wouldn’t tell me why ‘squawk’ and to hurry,” he cocked his head from side to side and walked in a circle around Bamby as he spoke, he looked like he was walking up hill all the time.
“What is at Warm Springs and what is the rush?”
“Safety, I am being followed by Wolves and lots of ‘em,” said Bamby,” My mother told me …” Bamby was suddenly very lonely and very sad … “I’m sorry; I am trying to make it to Dubois.”
“Then we should be on our way, you can bet those Wolves are moving, probably didn’t stop. I followed a bunch for six days once and they stopped one time for about an hour. One time in six days, no rest for the wicked I guess ‘Squawk.’”
“I guess. That’s why the rest of us can’t get any sleep.”
“That would seem to be the reason.”
Doug crossed the Big Wind River at Parkers corrals; he was headed for Salt Ridge. At Salt Ridge he could then cut all that country back to the Togwotee and hopefully pick up wolf tracks.
He was in Wild Cat Draw when it started snowing, he couldn’t believe it he had seen it snow in July but never August. The wind picked up and the snow swirled making it hard to see. In the narrowest part of Wildcat he saw what looked to be a man sitting on a stump holding the reins of a pale, almost white horse.
“Good Mornin!’” said Doug, pulling Chili to a stop he couldn’t see the stranger’s face but he could see the rifle that lay across his lap. He seemed to be reading something.
“Same to ya,” The stranger said then leaned forward and spit, but never offered to turn around, both he and the pale horse had their backs to the storm.
“I don’t think I have ever seen it snow in August, and I’ve lived here all my life,” said Doug, trying to start a conversation.
“I’ve seen it a couple of times,” the stranger turned and looked up at Doug,” it happens every time hell freezes over.”
Doug froze in terror, what he was looking at wasn’t like anything he’d ever seen before. All he could see were two pin holes of light where the eyes should be, the man was a shadow. Doug wanted to leave but he couldn’t move and he couldn’t look away.
The pale horse and Chili suddenly heard something to the north. When the Pale horse turned its head, Doug realized that the horse had no eyes
The shadowy figure brought his rifle up and stood it on his right knee,” They’re coming, horses always know.” He pulled his hat down, buttoned the top button on his coat. He stood laid what he had been reading down on the stump. Stepped around to right side of the pale horse and slid his rifle into the scabbard, “I’ll take the high ground. All you can do is wound them, I can kill them.” He stepped back to the left side and effortlessly onto the pale horse.” So wound them good.”
(TO BE CONTINUED )
Categories: Cowboys, Bambi -Wolves - and Libtards, WOLVES, Kenton Carnegie, Indians and Liberal Martyrs
Tags: NOLS wolves liberals Elk SaveWesternWildlife
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