The land now lay buried beneath a thick white blanket of freshly fallen snow. The branches of the trees that stood low down on the mountain ranges were now straining beneath the weight of the white powdery substance that now completely covered them. The thick brown trunks of the trees higher up in the range were slowly being squeezed by the icy grip of winter. The sound from their groaning would exploded every now and then into a thunderous roar that would then echo around the thin crisp cold mountain air. And yet the snow had only been falling across the vast lands for only a short space of time. The air was still thick with the tiny falling particles. Movement upon the land and within the mountain, that the snow now covered, was minimal. The animals seeking shelter from the freezing winds that always preceded the white blanket, and which were still howling across the lands and on up into the higher reaches of the mountain, trekked slowly along under the harsh conditions that now confronted them.
   It often appeared as if everything laying in the path of the deep white blanket had already given up the fight for life. The grasses, trees, and the flowers that had once spread across the land in abundance, bringing both life and colour to their surroundings, had already withered and died before this on onslaught of winter. But appearances can be deceptive. Because many of the plants and flowers just like many of the animals, had found their own ways of surviving these harshest of conditions. They simple shed their outer foliage, or else died back beneath the earth where they would lay dormant throughout the cold spell. Then they would wait for the weather to change so that they could once again, as if by magic, spring back into life across the open plains and mountain ranges.

   The larger animals of the plains, such as the buffalo, sought both shelter and warmth from the onset of winter by grouping together within their herds. This, along with their thick hairy hides, tended to help them survive, whilst other large animals, such as the brown bear, simply buried themselves deep underground where the cold and damp did not penetrate. Most of the animals of the plains and mountains, and indeed those of the air, had already been preparing themselves for just this moment. Food stocks had been increased and stored in well-prepared places, whilst others had increased their own body weights in order to sustain them through their long hibernation.
   But not all the animals enjoyed the luxury of sleeping through the winter moons. For many of the animals the white powder, now being trodden under hoof and paw, was one further danger to their already fragile existence. The mighty buffalo, who’s numbers exceeded that of all other animals, who themselves enjoyed the bountiful food stores that grew upon the lands during the summer moons, now had to scavenge beneath the snow in order to stay alive.
   For the weak and the young of every kind the onset of winter was particularly dangerous. In deep snow the young would become stuck and separated from their elders, and if left behind would, in a short space of time, freeze to death. The old too, for they would soon became as weak as the young, found themselves submerged up to their shoulders in the deep snow. Their concerted efforts to escape were useless. Their struggles for life were all in vain as they too lost their battle to live against the onslaught of winter. Their breaths frozen upon their flared nostrils as the white of winter stole their spirits away.

   Disease also ran rampant during this cold spell and the carcasses of those animals that succumbed to their designated fates would lay frozen and twisted in death, their broken bodies waiting, like the land, to be released from the frozen grip of winter when the snows finally melted.
   And yet for other animal this world was now a time of plenty. Because they enjoyed the protection and warmth of the thick fur that covered their bodies, and the lightness of step that carried them safely upon the white powder, the coldness beneath their paws and the biting winds that howled around their ears did not matter much to them. In fact this weather now played a helping hand in their survival.
   The White Mountain rabbit, for one, now enjoyed the protection that the white powder brought. Hiding him, as it did, from his predators. Now he could bound confidently around the entrance to his warren, high up in the mountains, and enjoy his new lease of freedom that the snow brought to him. The only worry now was of the silent death that came on wings! A sudden rush of wind was the only warning given before a fleeting mass of feathers scooped him up and carried him away from the mountains that he loved so much. But the threat from attacks by his four legged brothers, the cougar, and the coyote, generally failed because the white rabbit was swifter and surer of foot upon the surface of the snow than those who sought to chase him.
   But for one animal the winter snow flurries were like a long lost friend coming to visit again. The strong winds that produced the sounds of winter were like a greeting to his long pointed ears. The cold powder beneath his paws brought a welcome relief from the dreadful heat and overpowering warmth that his body endured when the red and yellow disk burned brightly in the clear blue skies above. He knew this to be the time of plenty and so he turned his long powerful snout instinctively into the wind and called out a greeting for all to hear.
   “Beware, for I am coming!”

   This was the voice of the Grey Wolf. To all that heard it this sound was as old as the land on which they travelled. The terror from the steel jaws of death was a fate that would befell many who heard the plaintive cry. Their death that could be as quick as the wind or as lingering as the winter cold spell that was now upon them. It all depended upon the mood of the wolf and the pack when they went hunting for food.
   Having no natural predators the wolf reigned supreme across the vast lands of the earth. In time he had come to fear no other animal with which he shared his domain. And yet the grey wolf never became complacent about his position in life. Somewhere, in the depths of his memory, he knew that the way of the present did not guarantee that they would remain the same ways of the future. The vast knowledge that had been gained in the struggle of life had been collected and then passed on so that each future generation could live their lives in greater peace of mind.
   The only time that held any kind of danger for the grey wolf was during the hunt. The males came together to form the main body, while the females took care of their young. Each member knew its position and place within the hierarchy of the pack. Their leaders tended to be the oldest and wisest of their kind. The one’s who had gained the most knowledge and who had themselves shown the most bravery over the many changing seasons to become leaders in their own rights. They also knew the way to the best hunting grounds. They also knew how to spot the old and the weak buffalo, those that they could bring down.
   The hunt relied mainly upon speed and daring. When their prey had been cornered the grey wolf then needed to be quick to get in close, closer than was generally safe to do, in order to launch their final attack. And it was here that the danger was most prevalent for the hunter from the hunted.

   The power of the buffalo could, when this mighty beast felt threatened, or else when he simply journeyed across the land, be channelled down into it’s powerful legs. These same legs that would bend and brake a huge channel of grassland over which he travelled looking for food, and which permanently scared the landscape, were also a testament to his strength and power and often stretched from one horizon unto the horizon. The power generated within these legs, when kicking out, could be just as destructive to an animal as they were to the land.
   A wolf hit by the full force of such a kick would not survive for long. If the hoof smashed into the wolf’s skull then death would be instantaneous. If, however, it received a kick to the side then, the flesh would be split open, the bones around the chest would be smashed, and the internal organs would be damaged beyond natural repair. In sort the wolf would die. For nothing could survived the wrath of the buffalo.
   And yet, although they knew full well the dangers that they faced, the grey wolf never considered for a moment not to hunt the all-powerful buffalo. For it was too plentiful a food source for the grey wolf to ignore entirely during the present state of hardship. And besides, it had now become a measure of courage for young wolf, learning to hunt for the first time, to see how close they could get to the flaying legs without being kicked. They treated this art as a kind of measure to see just how brave they really were. To get in close, to feel the heat from the panting breath of their terrified prey, whilst waiting for just the right moment to launch the final assault, while at the same time dodging the flaying hoofs, was a moment that filled them with both excitement and exhilaration.

   And each pack knew that their strength lay in their numbers. By living in a pack, hunting in a pack, and protecting their territory from other packs helped establish a way of life that few ever wanted to see change. The freedom that they now enjoyed they wanted to last forever. The life of the Grey Wolf was a life to be envied. Nothing, not even the arrival of the coldest of weathers, interrupted their blessed way of life. It appeared to all that nothing on the distant horizon, not even the newly arrived animals that walked upright on their two hind legs, would disturb their way of life. And this made the grey wolf very happy.     

THE END

Copyright © William Purcell. 2002
All rights reserved.