DAY SEVEN - Tuesday June 11


Today begins overcast and quite cold. But at least itís not sleeting.

Instead I get some beautiful fog. It hangs like giant smoke rings below the tops of Romance Ridge and Junction Butte. It shrouds the forest but I still manage to see some mule deer moving swiftly into its cover.

It hugs a low pocket between two hills and out of it steps a lone sentinel, a cow elk.

All through Little America the fog lies just above the ground on both sides of the road and even on the road itself. Just past Badgerville I sense dark shapes ahead. I slow to a stop. Bison! More shadows appear out of the formless land on the right, taking clearer shape as they reach the road. A herd is crossing, about 30 animals. I just sit and watch, not wanting or needing to be any closer. I have it all to myself and I love it.

Some animals serve as scouts and some as protectors. Some are skittish, some completely calm. A baby crosses, following its mother. Then more babies. How sweet this is. No one else drives by from either direction and the whole herd crosses unhurried.

The road is so empty this morning it almost feels like winter again. Looking at the snow-covered mountains I think to myself it might as well BE winter. But I look again and realize that I can feel a difference. I can feel the land already recovering from the pounding it took yesterday. I can feel its eagerness to get back to growing green. The land will take this snow and sleet and make excellent use of it. The land says, Come along, Sun! Get out here and help!

All through Lamar I marvel at the thick white I see on all the peaks. Yet I also notice a renewed green on the lower slopes, which makes the contrast all the greater. I drive through some rain pockets, and every once in a while I see light, dry snowflakes blow across my windshield. Yet overall the sky has a promise in it, like it may actually clear today.

I find the crowd at the Footbridge. But instead of pulling in I keep driving up to where the action was last night. With the whole Druid pack out in force itís likely they made a kill somewhere to the east of the den. If so, I might catch some of them returning along these high open ridges. I stop at the pullout where Mark and I got drenched last night and scan the hillside, re-running last nightís events in my mind. I see several elk here, grazing peacefully.

I drive all the way to Round Prairie but see no sign of wolves or wolf watchers. What I DO see is lots of elk; everywhere I look on both sides of the road. Not herds but two, three or four together. It seems as though the cooler weather has really brought them out.

I go back to the Footbridge and park. I see Brian and a friend of his. We talk about the amazing sighting last night. I ask if anything more happened after I left. He said as far as he knew no one saw a kill, other than the elk calf Rick thinks the wolves stole from the grizzlies. He says a wolf was seen returning to the den about a half-hour ago by someone but he missed seeing it himself.

Then I see Gerry and it turns out that HE is the one who saw that returning wolf! He is sad this morning because he has to leave today. But I just know itís going to be a good last morning for him. Everyone is scoping quietly. Six, no, eight pronghorn entertain us for a while by dashing across the flats then just as effortlessly up a steep hillside.

Rick pulls in, seeming quite cheery. He lets us know that the alphas are now back at the den. He is heading up to DPH and invites Gerry to come with him. Gerry invites me. Trish and Gary come out, too. I pack up and I do not forget my camera this time. No sooner are we set up than Rick points out two wolves in the r-v, a grey and a black, trotting casually south up the valley. It is windy and still quite cold up here so I put on my down jacket.

A short time later, Gerry spots a black bear. The wolves spot him too. Until this trip I had never seen a close interaction between a bear and a wolf. The wolves give chase. The bear turns and stands its ground, then moves on. The wolves follow, mildly harassing it. Every once in a while the bear charges the wolves and they turn tail and run. This goes on for about a half-hour, back and forth, as they all steadily move south. Never once do we see any contact made.

A second black bear is spotted in an aspen grove above them, and this bear comes down toward the group. It seems to me that this second bear is bigger than the first. I never did learn if these were two adult bears (a courting pair) or a mother and a yearling cub. The bears were never aggressive toward each other, so they must have been together intentionally. My hunch is that they were a courting pair since I never saw the larger bear defend the smaller one against the wolves, which I think a mother bear would have done.

When the wolves notice the second bear, they leave the first and chase it. The bear quickly climbs a tree. As soon as the wolves move off, the bear climbs down and continues his walk. Over the next hour we watch the wolves tree this bear three times, or, it may be more accurate to say that the bear chose discretion as the better part of valor. Each time the bear climbs he only goes high enough to avoid the closest wolf muzzle. He climbs almost casually and just waits calmly for the wolves to move away. My impression is, after initially thinking this bear was the more ďchickenĒ of the two, that the climbing bear is actually more experienced, like this sort of thing has happened many times before and he has his routine down pat. For their part, the wolves just sort of mill around under the tree, they donít leap at the bear or press either one very seriously. Itís like more like rival groups of kids on a playground yelling insults at each other.

The wolves and bears have moved into an area near a large burn, with lots of fallen trunks. A small herd of elk spooks out of it and suddenly the wolves forget the bears. We lose the wolves for a little and then four bull elk appear running over a rise, evenly spaced like a military formation. It looks absolutely beautiful. The wolves are running behind them but the bulls seem unconcerned. They run with heads held high and tilted back, with a prancing step that makes them look untouchable. But soon after this a smaller herd of running cows catches my attention as the wolves have switched their focus. One cow is singled out and suddenly she is running REALLY FAST with the wolves close behind. I get a sick feeling Iím gonna see an elk go down. In three great strides the black wolf is right on her flank. He seems to make contact then drops back quickly. I hear Rick say he may have just been kicked. Thatís just what it looked like to me although I didnít see the kick, just the wolfís sudden reaction.

The second wolf now gains ground and then we lose them all behind a rise so we donít know what happened next. We see the wolves again about 15 minutes later so it is unlikely they caught the cow or they would have remained out of sight at the kill.

We turn back to the bears. They are now both roaming on a lower bench in the sage. I see the zig-zag pattern which means they are looking for elk calves. We watch first one bear then the other go down the hill of the former riverbank and then come back up again. We see a couple of nervous elk cows in the area.

At one point three cow elk make a stand against one of the bears and try to drive him off. Or maybe they are trying to distract him. It doesnít last long and soon they turn and trot away, heads high, dignity intact.

The bears keep prowling. We never see them catch a calf this morning so maybe the elkís strategy worked.

Then the grey wolf is spotted roaming in the burn area. We watch him a while but heís hard to see in that camouflage. The black wolf is spotted a bit later heading back west towards the r-v area. It seems like their morning excursion is over.

With so much to watch I didnít check on the den area more than twice in the two hours we were up here. The pups could have all come out and done a Wendy Dance for all I knew, and I would have missed it. But itís a great morning for wildlife watching nonetheless.

We pack up and head downhill. Back at the Footbridge I see two women with spotting scopes who look like Veronicaís description of two people Iíve been hoping to meet for some time. I walk over and say ďAre you Chloe?Ē She looks up. ďYes.Ē I smile and say ĒIím Wendy Iím awfully glad to finally meet you!Ē Chloe smiles at me and I hug another Loon! I tell her she is much younger in person than I thought she was. She gets a kick out of me thinking she was elderly! I tell her itís because she is so wise. We chat at bit and I meet Becky. Are they nice? You bet they are!

I suggest that we still have enough time to make it to Roosevelt before they stop serving breakfast. Tonya pulls in (she knows Chloe and Becky of course) and says sheíll come too. Gerry opts out so he can stay in his beloved valley a bit longer. We pack up and head west.

As I drive through Little America I see a very large group of photographers in a field about 50 feet off the road. It looks like Mama Badger has moved her den. We do make it to Roosevelt in time for breakfast and have a great meal. Lew and Deb stop in for coffee before they move to Canyon for the rest of their trip. I introduce them to Chloe and Becky and then hug them both goodbye.

Tonya chats with the couple at the next table, Susan and Don St. John. Chloe says I wrote about Susan in one of my trip reports. Oh! Now I remember! Coyote researchers! Susan was the woman who I watched intercept some tourists returning to their car after excitedly and unthinkingly chasing a Druid wolf across the flats two springs ago. She ďenlightenedĒ them about proper wildlife etiquette and I thought she was issuing a citation!

Gerry stops over to say farewell and we have a Loon hug goodbye. We all wish him a safe trip. At the end of our meal we discuss what we want to do next. Chloe and Becky just got in last night so they are going to just roam about. I say Iíd like to zip down to Old Faithful to see the Loons I havenít seen yet, Matthew and Lori and Kristine. But I admit I really donít have enough time to do that and still get back to Lamar for evening viewing. I decide Iíll make a point of seeing them on my July trip. Maybe Iíll go to Hayden Valley instead, but everybody thinks Dunraven is probably still closed. Tonya says she needs to see a bear. I say ďOK. Thereís your bearĒ and I point out the window.

Tonya thinks Iím kidding. But Iím not. A black bear is walking right outside about 200 feet away; I saw him cross the horse-corral road. He ambles across the lawn at the edge of the parking lot. Chloe and Becky and Susan and Don and everybody in the restaurant looks out the window. ďGood spot, WendyĒ jokes Chloe.

We watch this bear, or should I say we watch the touristsí reaction TO this bear as we gather our coats to leave. Mr. Bear stops for a while to browse in the thick grass right out front. We smile at how sometimes it is that easy to get what you want in Yellowstone. We all go outside and I head over to my cabin to retrieve the box of firewood the Demlers left for me. Thanks, you two! I made good use of it!

When I get back to the road I find the bear has moved behind the gas station, trailing a dozen happy tourists a respectable distance behind him. Then he wanders over the hill and up Lost Creek. If I had waited at my cabin, he would probably have walked right past my window. I see several people stop on the hill staring, their forgotten cameras held idly at their sides. This is what people have always told them happens in Yellowstone. And theyíve just found out it was true!

I head up to Dunraven hoping to find it open. But before I get to Calcite Springs I find another bear jam. Itís a black bear, browsing in the forest below the road. I pull over and watch him a while as he roams unperturbed by the crowd. The Ranger here tells me Dunraven is still closed and that the road crews are checking it right now. She sayswe may know something in a couple of hours. I decide to go back to Little America.

I stop at the new Badgerville. I set up my scope on the side of the road and train it on the spot where the photographers are looking. I get a nice surprise when I clearly see two beautiful adult badgers, mom and dad I presume. Their faces are intricately striped, and to see one close up in the scope is a real treat. I wait for babies but none surface. After a little while one adult drops back into the den and the other waddles away on a mission. Badger faces are works of art but badger bodies are, well, another matter entirely. Not exactly svelte. I get a good long sighting of this adult whom I presume is hunting. He winds his way in and out of the sage, with many a backward glance at the photographers.

Chloe, Becky and Tonya show up and we watch the badger and talk some more. After a while I decide that since I canít get to Hayden Valley then Iíll head toward Norris one last time. I tell the Loons ďsee you in LamarĒ and head west. On my way past the swan pond I stop to watch a lone antelope as she skirts the far side of the pond, head lowered to the sage. It makes me wonder if she might have a calf in there. I drive through the beautiful Blacktail plateau, enjoying the green all the way. At the Frog Rock I see two red-tail hawks riding the wind and a lone intrepid photographer braving wind and sporadic rain, trying to get shots of them.

I stop at Wraith Falls and watch the Big Boys a while, taking pictures and enjoying the day. Itís windy all the way through Mammoth and out past Swan Lake flats. I stop at all the Willow Park pullouts looking for beaver lodges. I find several but donít spot a single beaver. And I continue to see elk everywhere.

I suddenly realize that I am back in typical Yellowstone weather. Cool air temperature, warm sun, and bright blue sky with fluffy, moving clouds. I donít find any bears so I turn around at Roaring Mountain. I stop at Swan Lake and find two sandhills. There are also some bison resting in the sage and further away some bull elk. And I find an elk mother and calf. I find it comforting to see this baby, walking well, trotting now and then, wobbling a little bit but overall looking healthy. I watch them a while and feel privileged when the mom stops and lets the baby nurse. Ahhhhhh.

I just canít stay away from Lamar very long so I head back. The sun come out full and makes the hillsides of arrow-leaf balsam-root simply irresistible. I canít resist taking photos even though I have ninety-five shots exactly like this already! The bright yellow flowers have just exploded across the cool green slopes in this area and look prettier than ever.

I make the turn at Roosevelt for my last night in Lamar. I donít get very far as there is one HUGE jam on the Yellowstone Bridge. The entire left lane is bumper to bumper and both shoulders on my side of the hill are filling up fast. People are popping out of their cars left and right. Has to be bear. I find a spot and gather my camera and binocs. People are peeking over the edge of the hillside down at the river. I walk forward cautiously. Oh boy! Weíve got a double! Two black bears, one black and one cinnamon, possibly the same courting pair I saw after the Loon dinner on Friday.

They are below us on the western bank of the river, in thick willows. They amble in and out of cover, close enough for good shots. People stay up on the road, probably because the hill is so steep. I wonder if we might get to see them swim the river? Just then the bears seem to decide to come up the slope. Whoa!

The black takes a few steps uphill. We all move back. Well, almost all of us. Luckily the bears take their time, rather than coming up in a rush. It gives most folks enough time to ďget itĒ and retreat. The black now moves quickly up slope and the cinnamon follows.

I back up to my car to wait for them to appear on the road. Most folks do the same but a small group stays right on the bridge, thinking they are safe there. The blackís head appears and the last few folks nearby beat a hasty retreat. As she lunges up the last three feet it is clear the folks on the bridge could get in trouble fast. I am just about to say something when someone else does. ďOK folks! Give Ďem roomĒ says a loud male voice. I donít see who it is as I donít take my eyes off the bear. Heís not a Ranger though. Other voices join the first guy ďlet Ďem cross, folks, get back to your carsĒ. Everyone complies except for three people still on the bridge. At first it looks like the bear will cross over to the north side but now you can see from her body language that she wants to go east across the bridge. I call out ďyou people on the bridge, get back to your cars, now!Ē

I have no idea whether they hear me or have just figured it out, but they move behind the line of cars just in time. The black bear heads across the bridge then stops right where the people were two seconds ago. She hesitates, then ambles a few more steps across. She turns toward a car. I hear a door slam and she retreats and goes further east down the empty lane. Now she breaks into a run. All those folks in their cars on the bridge got a bearís eyeball shot (if their fingers were working). Thereís a crowd still standing on the far side of the bridge and they scatter as the bear quickly covers the distance. At the end of the bridge she turns right and heads down the slope back to the river.

Now itís cinnamonís turn. While the black was on the bridge, the cinnamon came up to the road for a moment but went back down. Now he returns for another look. He surveys this people-and-car-filled corner of his home. He approaches a car and I canít tell what heís up to but I worry it could get ugly quick.

But he turns and starts across the bridge, stops and comes back. People seem to get the potential danger now. The bear seems a little agitated, clacking his jaws. Nobody ventures out from behind their car, we are all content to simply watch and take pictures. I hear the whizzing of two-dozen video motors and the constant clicking of camera shutters. Eventually the cinnamon bear turns away from the Bridge and goes right back downhill from whence he came. Now there is a bear on each side of the Bridge and on each side of the river. Iím sure there will be more to this story today.

The road east is now free for those of us who wish to proceed. I do and drive slowly across, wary that people might rush out at any moment. I pass three cars that have been abandoned by their owners, doors left wide open!

In the woodsy section just past the Yellowstone Picnic area I see another jam. I think maybe mulies which I often see here, but itís three bighorn sheep! They came from Junction Butte and crossed the road; I see them just as they leave it for the trees. I watch them trot through the timber up the hill towards Romance Ridge.

It is relatively empty through the rest of Little America and into Lamar. I stop at Trash Can and spend some time writing. Once when I look up I see that Bob Landis is here and so are Don and Dan. Donís car battery dies on him and Dan gives him a jump. After a little while I am ready for a drive again so I head to the Footbridge. I pass Rick scoping at the confluence.

I donít see anything going on at Hitching Post or the Footbridge so I come back and pull in below the Exclosure hill. I get my stuff and climb up. Don is now up here and Bob is on the next hill to the east.

Everybody is looking toward the rendezvous.

Once Iím set up I see that actually they are looking beyond the western foothills at a small knob below the aspen. I see three, no, four, no, five wolves here. Four blacks and a grey. One of the blacks has a collar. More and more people come up and a few have no scope so I share Layla. After about 10 minutes I am watching two wolves playfully interacting on the knob and I see a smaller animal join them ďHey!Ē I say out loud. Could that really be what I think it is?

I rush over to the closest person and say, as quietly as my excitement will allow, ďIím seeing an animal with the wolves that I think is a pup. Can you confirm it for me? The lady beams and says calmly and sweetly ďYep. There are three of them.Ē

OMG! THREE WOLF PUPS! My eyes get as big as the moon and my jaw falls down to Texas.

I rush back to my scope and look again. I see the black pup. I SEE A BLACK PUP! I scan to the left and THERE! I see two more! Both grey. I SEE THREE WOLF PUPS! Oh, you cannot believe how cute they are!

I spout out a million questions. ďAre they the Druidís pups? How did they get here? How long have they been here? Arenít they too little to be out here?

The lady is patient with me and tells me everything she knows. Apparently they were just sighted this afternoon. No one knows much about them yet, whether they are 42ís or 103ís or 251ís or some un-collared female wolfís. If they are 42ís, then it is indeed early to see them in this area. It is traditional for wolf pups to move from the den to an open area such as this at three to four months. You can see these pups are small and young. We peg them as about two months (8 weeks) old. Cute as the dickens. I remember seeing peopleís photos of the triple litter of Druid pups from 2000 when they crossed the road for the first time. They looked more like adolescents, more like wolves than these little darlings. These look like babies.

Also, if they are 42ís pups, then how did they get here? Did the pack lead them across the river? These three look too small to swim well and the river is still swollen. Did the pack carry them by mouth? They look a bit too big for that. Plus no one is claiming to have seen that process which would have been hard to miss, unless, of course it was done at night. In that case, are these three the only survivors? I had heard the Druids had either five or six pups this year.

The other possibility is that these pups are from a mother with a den on the south side of the river, which would mean these youngsters could be led out here without risking a river crossing. 251F is the collared black wolf in this group and they could be her pups. That still leaves the question of who is the father, although 21M is the most obvious answer.

One thing that is certain is that the five adult wolves in our sights are Druid wolves and that these five adults love these pups. I quit wondering and just enjoy the sight of them all playing together. Everyone on this hill is thrilled to be seeing this. On top of the joy of this surprise, the weather has finally turned nice, too. We have a breeze rather than wind and sun rather than sleet. I watch the black pup chew on a stick (or is it a bone?). A black adult comes up from behind and pounces on him. The pup tumbles forward then engages the adult and they tussle.

I watch the pups explore on their own. The black bounces over to a rock that sticks out and tries to pose on it. He nearly falls off, regains his balance and then slips. A grey pup then does almost the same thing. Neither falls very far and they both re-climb the slope to the top, where they plop down to rest.

Another adult gets up and moves down the slope of the knob into the flat. The black and one grey pup follow him. The pups nearly disappear in the high grass but I see the adult turn and go back to the two of them and I see the adultís tail wagging so fast it looks like it will snap off. A second wolf comes over to join the fun and then it sits on its haunches and I actually see a grey pup jump on his back and fall off the other side. Later the third pup joins them and later still all three are led back toward the knob. I watch them trot through the grass behind their babysitter. They flop down to rest on the knob with a bedded adult.

Then some of the wolves move east as if going back to the den. Over the radio I hear a rumor that the main Druid pack is out in the cottonwoods above the confluence. There is speculation that they may be headed toward Cache Creek, so we think these four may be going to join them.

They donít get far, though. We watch them mess around with some cow elk. They break that off and turn their attention to some bull elk, then break that off that and head for some bison. A few chases develop but they never get too serious. Chloe and Becky come up. They have been talking with Bob on the other hill.

Then Mark R joins us. They are all jealous when I tell them I saw pups! I show them the knob where they were but it is now empty of canines. Unfortunately I lost sight of the pups while I was following the movements of the other four.

Walker and his mom Jody come up and I introduce them to Mark and Chloe and Becky. The four wolves are now headed west, moving with some purpose, three un-collared blacks and one grey. We believe we are watching a hunt in progress. Walker and Jody and I take turns at the scope. The wolves stay high on the alluvial fan going in and out of timber. We lose them for a while and then pick them up again by watching the elk that they spook out of the hollows and drainages.

At one point the sky darkens and it starts to hail. It lasts about 2 minutes, and we look at each other, incredulous. The wolves move higher as they continue westward, traveling in a single line, each wolf several lengths behind the one in front. Mark has been scanning ahead, trying to anticipate the wolvesí next move. He finds a lone bison that seems to be injured at the top of a green hill. The last wolf in line notices this animal. It leaves the line and heads up the slope at a run. I get my scope on the bison and I am shocked to see how bad an injury it is. One of the bisonís front legs is useless and I watch it hobble quite pitifully. At one point it crumples to its knees. This bison is doomed. We are not sure we want to see what happens next, yet we do keep watching.

The black wolf reaches the injured bison and I prepare myself for an ugly scene. The wolf lunges and makes the bison spin around. This happens a few more times and then the wolf stands still. They face off and how I wish I knew what they were trying to say to each other. Then the wolf breaks off and runs back down the hill to join his pack. We are surprised to say the least, but also relieved. The bison put up more of a fight than we would have thought possible. We wonder what kind of a chance it would have had against all four wolves.

The other three wolves are already at the next hill. At the top of this hill is another injured bison. This bisonís problem is a bad hind leg. Now all four wolves are heading straight for it. Again I get a sick feeling that I know whatís going to happen next. The wolves surround the bison and we watch with hearts in our throats as they lunge and harass it. Around and around the bison spins, always threatening with its great horned head. The moral of this story is Do NOT Count Out An Injured Bison. Despite its useless back leg this bison has spunk to spare. The wolves sense it and after about 10 tense minutes, they back off and head west again.

Perhaps the wolves have had enough experience taunting bison by now and know when their target is not yet ready to die. Or perhaps they are not yet experienced enough to work together to bring it down. We are all secretly happy it ends this way. I know I always say bison are weird but man, they are tough, too.

The wolves have now moved so far west they are mere dots in the scopes. Walker and Jody decide to head down to their car and catch up. Before they go I write down the URL of the Total Yellowstone Page. I wish now I had added my e-dress as well. Most everybody else has abandoned the hill to go west. Soon we are the only ones on this hill.

Now that the hail has passed itís again a wonderful night and we have a great time yakking. Mark spots a lone black wolf way up on Norris. After he helps us find it we all scope around there. I spot a grizzly with two cubs of the year even higher up, east of the wolf. Chloe soon corrects me. The bear has THREE cubs of the year! Wow! Sheís right!

We watch the mom and her three trailing babies. One of the cubs seems to be heading for the edge of a cliff and I get scared itís going to fall. Then a second cub joins it. But then they turn back and race across the hill after mom and their third sibling. Mom stops at one point and remains nose down for a while. We canít tell if she caught something or is digging. The babies crowd around her and it sure looks like they are all eating but we canít tell what. Eventually she moves at a good pace over the side of the hill and we watch the babies disappear, one, twoÖthree.

Now Mark finds a second adult grizzly. This bear is on a lower slope of Norris, running pretty fast downhill. A few minutes later Chloe calls out a third grizzly lower still along the line of trees, and then a fourth bear so near the third one that we figure they must be a pair. Then we correct ourselves as we figure Chloeís fourth bear was the same one as Markís which was probably running downhill after his sweetie. So weíre back to three adult grizzlies (and three cubs). But then Mark finds TWO MORE adult grizzlies (numbers four and five for the night) below Chloeís pair, approaching the sage flats. And then Chloe gets a moose out in the alluvial fan. At one point this evening I have four grizzlies and a moose in the circle of my scope!

What a night!

And we are the only ones up here to see it. Just then Walker comes running back up. I show him the various bears and the moose. He is delighted. He tells us that the four hunting Druids finally caught an elk calf on a high slope across from the Institute. He says we may still be able to see it on the way out tonight.

Iím tickled to be able to share this last great night with Walker. Jody is content to stay in the car and let him have his fun. Heís just a really cool kid and the future of Yellowstone is in the hands of his generation.

We watch two pairs of bears search the sage for calves. The moose moves into the timber and the light begins to fade. Finally we pack up head down the hill.

I bid farewell to Walker as we are both leaving tomorrow. I say see ya tomorrow to Chloe and Becky and they head east. Mark and I follow each other west for a while but when we pass the Institute itís too dark to see anything. At Roosevelt I bid Mark adieu. Iím so glad I got to spend so much time with him and to see such wonderful things together. I tell him Iíll stop in to say goodbye tomorrow on my way out.

Back at the cabin I make a nice fire with Lew & Debís extra wood. Before I turn in I take a last peek at the sky. Itís mostly overcast but a handful of stars, including Jupiter, slip out of an open patch, twinkling sweet dreams to me.

Today I saw: Bison (including calves) elk (including a nursing calf) pronghorn, ground squirrels, 2 badgers, 6 black bears, 8 grizzly bears (including 3 cubs) 2 sandhill cranes, 2 red-tail hawks, 1 moose, 3 bighorn sheep, 2 swans, 10 Druids wolves (including 3 pups!) and 10 Loons

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