Alaska
Muskeg. One of the better known, if not fully understood, parts of the northern world. When we think of it we think of both the plants and animals of Alaska. When we think of Alaska's animals, one of the first to spring to mind is the wolf. Who has not at least imagined the pack's chorus quavering through the silent skies, the time when everyone listens to know in which part of their territory the wolves will hunt tonight?
We didn't see the hunt. We didn't even hear the wolves. But, crossing the muskeg today, we found the wolves. The hunt, several days ago, was successful. The wolves killed a doe. "Meat drunk" after stuffing themselves until they could hardly move, the pack had rested near the kill and maybe finished cleaning it up before heading … where? Is there a den nearby that required some to return quickly to feed the pups? Or is this pack just moving around their territory, checking on their boundaries and hunting? We couldn't tell. All we know is that, crossing the muskeg, beside the trail we walk today, six wolves paused.
No self-respecting naturalist can pass up scat piles, especially those as interesting as wolf scat. So the hike paused and we dropped to our knees to examine the remains of a wolf meal. Poking around the first revealed nothing but hair and some bone splinters far too small to learn much from. The second was the same, a mass of hair, tightly compacted originally, but starting to come apart after a few days in Southeast Alaska's rains. Again a few bone fragments were there but told us nothing more than the hair did. But the third revealed evidence of what the meal had been. There we found the tiny hoof of a fetal deer. The wolves had taken a doe that was nearing term in her pregnancy. And they had consumed both doe and unborn fawn.
To many of us, accustomed to rooting for Bambi, it might have seemed ghastly. If you take time to think, it doesn't. These wolves are as much a part of the ecosystem as the deer. No ecosystem is ever "in balance" but such complex, dynamic systems need all their parts to continue to function properly. Indeed, Aldo Leopold once wrote that mountains hear the sounds of deer hooves with the same fear that deer feel when they hear a wolf pack singing its hunting song.
So it is that, looking at the scat, we hear, faintly, the song of the wolves and know that Alaska lives.
Muskeg. One of the better known, if not fully understood, parts of the northern world. When we think of it we think of both the plants and animals of Alaska. When we think of Alaska's animals, one of the first to spring to mind is the wolf. Who has not at least imagined the pack's chorus quavering through the silent skies, the time when everyone listens to know in which part of their territory the wolves will hunt tonight?
We didn't see the hunt. We didn't even hear the wolves. But, crossing the muskeg today, we found the wolves. The hunt, several days ago, was successful. The wolves killed a doe. "Meat drunk" after stuffing themselves until they could hardly move, the pack had rested near the kill and maybe finished cleaning it up before heading … where? Is there a den nearby that required some to return quickly to feed the pups? Or is this pack just moving around their territory, checking on their boundaries and hunting? We couldn't tell. All we know is that, crossing the muskeg, beside the trail we walk today, six wolves paused.
No self-respecting naturalist can pass up scat piles, especially those as interesting as wolf scat. So the hike paused and we dropped to our knees to examine the remains of a wolf meal. Poking around the first revealed nothing but hair and some bone splinters far too small to learn much from. The second was the same, a mass of hair, tightly compacted originally, but starting to come apart after a few days in Southeast Alaska's rains. Again a few bone fragments were there but told us nothing more than the hair did. But the third revealed evidence of what the meal had been. There we found the tiny hoof of a fetal deer. The wolves had taken a doe that was nearing term in her pregnancy. And they had consumed both doe and unborn fawn.
To many of us, accustomed to rooting for Bambi, it might have seemed ghastly. If you take time to think, it doesn't. These wolves are as much a part of the ecosystem as the deer. No ecosystem is ever "in balance" but such complex, dynamic systems need all their parts to continue to function properly. Indeed, Aldo Leopold once wrote that mountains hear the sounds of deer hooves with the same fear that deer feel when they hear a wolf pack singing its hunting song.
So it is that, looking at the scat, we hear, faintly, the song of the wolves and know that Alaska lives.
