Over the last two decades, plus a couple of years, we have seen a lot while living out here in the Bush. Since we’re miles from town and people, we mostly observe weather and wildlife. A lot of what we have seen has been entertaining to say the least, some things funny, a few other things deadly serious. It’s not endless “entertainment,” but we always have an eye out for something coming up or passing by.

As I write this, the moose cows are having their calves which can make things fairly lively from time to time. It was just a few days ago my wife Pam watched a cow moose give birth to her new calf, a tiresome job from the looks of it. The calf had hardly hit the ground before both the cow and Pam were a bit worried for it. And, rightly so. Mother nature has its beauty for sure, but to say it can be harsh is an understatement. Brutal at times might be a more appropriate description. By early the next morning two ravens were moving in close, scrounging around on the ground, probably looking for some afterbirth. But there is no doubt, given the opportunity, without Mama around watching her calf closely, the ravens would make a meal of the newborn calf. Possibly several meals. After a bit of pestering, when the birds got too bold, too close, the old cow laid her ears back and put them both up a nearby tree, which while not far … was far enough. They were away from the calf, for the time being anyway.

When the cows start calving, usually down in the timber below us, the bears are also out after their long winter sleep and starting to build an appetite. They know where the cows are and they are after the calves quite quickly. The bears, as well as the wolves, get a lot of the calves. After being chased and chased in lower elevations, the cows will come up in our neck of the woods to escape the bears for awhile, but it’s not long and the bears just follow them up to the higher country. As we went to bed that night, after watching the moose calf’s birth, I told Pam, half joking, “Bears will be here any day now, cows are calving…” It was about a day later, while Pam was keeping an eye out for the cow and calf, when she said, “There’s a bear…” Sure enough, the first bear of spring was lying in a nice grass bed, sunning and snoozing, just a few hundred yards from the cow and her calf. But the cow and new calf got lucky this time. When the bear did move he stayed on a course that did not give him a chance to pick up their scent off the wind. The last we saw they were still unmolested by the bears or wolves, which is not usually the case.

We have watched cows and calves, both caribou and moose, get chased on many occasions out across the tundra by the bears and wolves. More than once they were chased into the lake in front of our home. Another time we watched two wolves go after a cow moose with two calves for hours. The wolves are very good at what they do. With one wolf threatening in front of the cow, another one ranging from both sides and one in the rear looking for the right opportunity … within forty-five minutes they had killed both of the calves. It was interesting to see … but not a lot of fun to watch. The wolves did not eat in peace, the cow fought them for thirteen hours before she finally admitted defeat and slowly walked away, head down, ears laid back. She was not a happy camper and not the kind of moose you want to meet in close quarters. 

We have run into cows that have lost their calves and believe me they have no sense of humor at all. I rode past a cow one time with our dog team in the dead of winter. There were several hundred feet between us, so we were not crowding her at all. While she seemed quite unperturbed as we mushed on by, once we were well past I looked back and here she was coming after us on a run. The hair on her shoulders was straight up, and she had her neck stretched out and ears laid back; there was no doubt she meant business. I recall thinking … “I’m gonna be the first one she catches!” As I yelled at our dogs to, “Hike it up! Hike! Hike!,” at the same time I was getting my heavy mitts off to quickly dig through four inches of wool shirt and goose down jackets to get at my forty-four magnum revolver in case she did catch us. Several things kinda saved our bacon, so to speak. One, we had a good dog team that followed commands and did “Hike up!” Two, we had a pretty good fast packed trail we had run before, and three, the moose was plowing through belly deep snow which slowed her some. After thinking about it for some time I have little doubt that wolves at some point had killed this cow’s calf, or calves. Most likely it had happened months prior to our crossing paths, and she had not forgotten. Far from it. When we went by, what she saw was a whole pack of wolves … all tied together (possibly, being chased by a man, although that is a little far fetched) and an opportunity for nothing less than revenge. Payback. Any cow moose is nothing to mess with. One that has young calves, or has lost her calves, is one to stay as far away from as you can.

We have also watched ptarmigan, generally with young ones as well, being hunted by fox, goshawks, and the like. While it may seem far less dramatic to us than seeing a bear after a moose, or wolves taking a caribou down, I’m sure to the ptarmigan there is not a lot of difference. I have actually been charged by both ptarmigan and grouse with chicks as well. It always amazes me how, in about every species I can think of, the mothering instinct is so powerful … A one pound creature will not hesitate to take on something a hundred times its own size, to save its young.

But nature is not all a matter of life and death. It has its golden moments, like the bull caribou drinking in early morning from a small lake and his blood red freshly rubbed velvet antlers reflecting in the water before him. The sow bear with her three toddlers hurrying along behind, perfectly spaced, making sure they keep up with “Mama.” The cow moose with junior nursing peacefully at her side, under the midnight sun. It happens. Just not as much as people think.

It always amazes me how, in about every species I can think of, the mothering instinct is so powerful … A one pound creature will not hesitate to take on something a hundred times its own size, to save its young.

We’ve seen some funny things too. One of the funniest in my book was one time watching a coyote coming down off the ridge just east of our place. It was late spring and, totally unaware that we were even on this earth, the coyote worked his way down toward the lake “mousing,” intently looking for a mouse snack. Eat enough of them and it’s a meal. As the coyote progressed closer to the lake edge, I noticed far behind him, way up on the ridgetop, a short-eared owl was slowly, with his unmistakable owl wing flap, working his way to the north. Nobody bothering anybody … until the owl saw the coyote. The owl rolled into a smooth but abrupt bank and a ninety degree turn, set his wings in a soundless glide mode, and fixed in a flight line for the coyote. The coyote, still headed toward us intently looking for another mouse, hind quarters toward the approaching owl, had not a clue. As the owl silently closed the distance, I was thinking… “What … is this owl thinking?” It didn’t take long to find out. On his straight as an arrow line of flight, just before reaching the coyote, the owl flared back slightly, extended both claws loaded and forward, and grabbed the coyote right on the butt with both claws. The coyote didn’t suspect a thing until the owl nailed him, but his response was instant… He went straight up in the air about six feet, as the owl quietly flapped back a bit up out of the coyote’s reach. The coyote came back to earth, looked up at the owl with a kind of, “You dirty bird…” look, then trotted on his way as the owl followed along, swooping down and taking a swipe at the coyote occasionally, just harassing him. Just foolin around.

I’ve often wondered what the owl’s motive was. Yeah, they both eat mice, compete for food, but what’s the point? I would like to think the owl had a sense of humor. I could imagine him quietly chuckling as he closed the gap on the coyote … thinking to himself… “Boy, this is gonna be good…” And from where I was sitting, it pretty much was.