Wild Life on the Rockies — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
Wild Life on the Rockies
John Stuart Mill · en
On that autumn afternoon I was walking along slowly, reflectively, in
a deep forest. Not a breath of air moved, and even the aspen's golden
leaves stood still in the sunlight. All was calm and peaceful around
and within me, when I came to a little sunny frost-tanned grass-plot
surrounded by tall, crowding pines. I felt drawn to its warmth and
repose and stepped joyfully into it. Suddenly two gray wolves sprang
from almost beneath my feet and faced me defiantly. At a few feet
distance they made an impressive show of ferocity, standing ready
apparently to hurl themselves upon me.
Now the gray wolf is a powerful, savage beast, and directing his
strong jaws, tireless muscles, keen scent, and all-seeing eyes are
exceedingly nimble wits. He is well equipped to make the severe
struggle for existence which his present environment compels. In many
Western localities, despite the high price offered for his scalp, he
has managed not only to live, but to increase and multiply. I had seen
gray wolves pull down big game. On one occasion I had seen a vigorous
long-horned steer fall after a desperate struggle with two of these
fearfully fanged animals. Many times I had come across scattered bones
which told of their triumph; and altogether I was so impressed with
their deadliness that a glimpse of one of them usually gave me over
to a temporary dread.
The two wolves facing me seemed to have been asleep in the sun when
I disturbed them. I realized the danger and was alarmed, of course, but
my faculties were under control, were stimulated, indeed, to unusual
alertness, and I kept a bold front and faced them without flinching.
Their expression was one of mingled surprise and anger, together with
the apparent determination to sell their lives as dearly as possible.
I gave them all the attention which their appearance and their
reputation demanded. Not once did I take my eyes off them. I held them
at bay with my eyes. I still have a vivid picture of terribly gleaming
teeth, bristling backs, and bulging muscles in savage readiness.
They made no move to attack. I was afraid to attack and I dared not
run away. I remembered that some trees I could almost reach behind me
had limbs that stretched out toward me, yet I felt that to wheel,
spring for a limb, and swing up beyond their reach could not be done
quickly enough to escape those fierce jaws.