He was sturdily built. Although not yet full grown, muscles rippled along both fore and aft flanks. Lines of chocolate on a brown pelt accentuated the power of each movement. He lowered his head and pushed at her flank. Only his crown betrayed his youth. Showing promise of a graceful spiral, broad at the base, sweeping up, back and then down, solid bone with a keratinous coat, a full curl horn was yet to come. She ran upslope, disinterested now. Her white rump flashed her goodbye. A newcomer in the flock composed mostly of ewes, kids and yearlings, a young Rocky Mountain bighorn ram was left to watch, to learn by experimentation and finally by challenge. An older male would come later, his position secure for now. The others ignored this failure and went to the river to drink.
BIGHORN AT THE SNAKE
Hot!
Thirsty!
Go down to the river.
Go down to the river and drink.
Look!
Look deep!
Deep into your own eyes
As they peer back from the still pool.
Listen!
Listen to the sound of movement.
Of currents moving sand.
Pebbles clicking together softly.
Boulders deeply rumbling.
Feel!
Feel the refreshing coolness of the water.
Water, the sustenance of life.
Water that carries mountains to the sea.
Follow the path of water from us to thee.
