When the Monarch saw his chance and used it to put the bull from Snaggletooth Creek onto the ground, he did more than win a contest. Elk know each other. The Snaggletooth bull had come up onto the high top and thrashed every bull elk of any importance- until he tried for the Monarchs cows. After he was done, all the elk on the mountain knew the Snaggletooth bull well. When the Monarch so clearly crushed this foe, a foe who had beaten up every other bull so easily, the other elk took note. The Monarch had little trouble keeping his harem together after his triumph, despite the frustrated pests that seemed to always buzz around his cows like flies. To him these bulls were of little concern now, for it was obvious none of them were willing or able to challenge his supremacy. This indeed was fortunate, for it allowed the Monarch to continue to shepherd his strength and bank it for another day. The lives of wild things hinge on luck. For a bull elk, this luck was often measured in calories. The plus and the minus of energy ingested against energy expended often meant the margin between life and death. If winters mean winds later came howling across the slopes of Bull Mountain and the rut had left them weak and undernourished, a few extra mouthfuls eaten here, a decision that saved exertion there, made all the difference.
When the archer and his daughter bumped the Monarch harem out of the dark timber rimming the giants favorite park, the old cow that led the group took them up slope and over a small rise behind the timber. The park the Monarch preferred was chosen well, because behind this rise was a narrow bench that allowed the elk to watch and see if they would be followed. If not, they would simply settle into grazing the ample grasses that grew there, until such time as they decided to move elsewhere. But if trouble came, the bench quickly dropped into a broad gulch of dark timber into which the elk could easily fall, using the steep topography to excelerate their escape. The elk did not reason out these choices, or how they reflected the equation of expenditures vs deposits. It was simply instinct. They understood in some innate way the value of only doing what was necessary, and no more. So it was that the Monarchs harem only traveled a mile before stopping. No threat hounded them. There was no reason to continue fleeing.
The narrow bench made the Giants life more complicated than it would have been in the open meadow of his park however. Now he could not simply stand in the broad open meadow that was its jewel during the night and from a single view watch his cows. The trees meant cover for the other bulls. He would now have to continually circle them to keep any lesser bulls from sneaking in and horning away one or two of his harem. The bench was timbered sparsely, but even in the waning light of late afternoon it was enough to offer cover to those bulls that coveted what he had. They dared not challenge the Monarch directly, but began to test less courageous methods of getting what they wanted.. As a consequence the Monarch would have to spend a vigilant, restless night.
The gray sky lowered until it seemed the clouds were only inches above the crown of the stunted high top aspens. A steady wind came out of the North, pushing its crisp message through the scarred timber. A single coyote loped across the rise above the narrow bench which sheltered the herd of elk, his interest only in the meadow voles so abundant in the park the elk had so recently vacated.
Night closed in on the high top of Bull Mountain. It became colder and the wind ebbed like a slack tide. Two hunters bivouacked lower on the mountain made their plans, even as an owl drifted silently above them...
Topic: The Monarch of Bull Mountain --DONE!-- (Read 10127 times)
