Coyote Peterson’s Brave Adventures. Coyote Peterson
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“Come on nature… present me with something epic!”
With my head down, I was more focused on the thoughts in my head than I was on the surrounding environment, a definite mistake whenever exploring unknown wilderness. I moved quickly, dodging around spiky plants that laced the tall grasses, and kicking at the small rocks that scattered the sandy soil. My frustration was clearly apparent, and it was growing with every step I took.
I picked up my pace. The faster I moved, the less I was paying attention to everything around me, and the danger was compounding.
“No snakes, no lizards, no fossils… shoot, not even a prairie dog standing on its back feet to call out a chatter of laughter which would most certainly be mocking me as I…”
My thoughts froze as all of a sudden the bushes ahead of me moved with incredible force. I stopped dead in my tracks. Like a video game freezing in mid-play, my entire world literally stopped.
Branches cracked back and snapped, the entire bush moved violently, yet I could not make out what was behind it. One thing was for certain – it was BIG.
This was one of those rare moments in life where you can literally feel your heart drop in your chest. Your senses shift into overdrive and begin firing on all cylinders to pump as much adrenaline through your veins as possible.
“Buh-bum… buh-bum… BUH-BUM…”
My heart was pounding out of my chest as my ears tuned in and listened to the haunting sound of deep breathing coming from in front of me, no more than 50 feet away.
I heard a low resonating bellow, like distant thunder… the sound rumbled into my chest, and then suddenly a short, strong snort caused me to jump. It was the sound of air being forced through a pair of nostrils, a crystal clear warning that said:
“I am here and YOU should NOT be!”
My body was paralyzed by fear, yet my mind was screaming at my feet, “RUN, COYOTE, RUN!”
But they could not hear my internal cries of desperation. My heart began to race faster as the sound of crunching sand and stone echoed out across the open landscape. Stepping out before me the beast revealed itself, arguably the most powerful and dangerous animal to roam the grasslands; the American Buffalo.
To say he was absolutely enormous is an understatement.
His massive head was armed with curved black horns that led into a muscle-packed neck. My eyes traced up his haunches and across his massive shoulders, burly and coated in thick tufted fur. His powerful ground-pulverizing hooves braced as they held up a 2,000 pound core. This animal was like a freight train on legs, capable of reaching speeds of nearly 40 miles per hour.
He looked straight at me, his eyes like two black marbles glistening in the late afternoon sun, almost lost in the dark traces of his brow line and filled with a timeless wisdom. This animal represented dominance and power. This land belonged to him, yet here I was, trespassing in his domain.
What an incredibly rare moment – partially because I had not yet been charged or trampled, but also because it’s rare to ever see a single buffalo outside of a herd. Normally these giant herbivores travel together by the hundreds, and you will only find a rogue male who has been driven out of the heard in a situation like this.
My current predicament had become incredibly dangerous, because it was clear that this buffalo was NOT happy. Large, aggressive rogue males are notorious for charging humans. Most of the time it’s a tourist who has gotten too close while trying to snap a photograph; this time it was a teenager who foolishly wandered haphazardly across a prairie looking for an adventure.
Now, I knew the worst thing I could do in this situation was to run. If I ran, it would most likely prompt a charge, and there was no way whatsoever I was going to outrun a buffalo. At top speed, an adult human can sprint around 15 mph. And remember, a full-grown buffalo… about 40 mph. You can see the impossible nature of attempting to outrun this beast. However, I had already made the mistake of direct eye contact, so at this juncture, I was already in way over my head!
“Think Coyote… think, how are you going to get out of this one…?”
My thoughts were cut short as suddenly he snorted again!
“WHHHUUUGGHHHHHH”
A massive burst of air and snot shot from his nose and sent up a plume of dust from the ground. My head immediately dropped, and I looked at my feet. I noticed my knees were now shaking from fear and I closed my eyes.
“He’s gonna charge,” I thought. “He’s gonna charge, and he’s gonna kill me if I don’t back myself out of this now… right now!”
I slowly opened my eyes and somehow mustered a single small step backward, my boots crunching ever so loudly on the ground; the sound seemed to echo across the prairie, and I stopped.
The buffalo exhaled again, and with a mechanically powerful movement his front left hoof pawed at the parched earth; a burst of dust kicked up as he displayed his dominance. The king of Wyoming had just signaled that this prairie belonged to him, and boy, I could not agree more. I would have gladly apologized – perhaps in a fashion something like this:
“Gosh, I’m sorry Mr. Buffalo… I was just out looking for snakes and lizards. I didn’t realize this was your side of the wash. I certainly would never have wanted to offend a handsome fella such as yourself. What do you say I head back to the human camp and we forget this whole thing ever happened?”
Yeah… unfortunately, that wasn’t going to work.
If the giant charged, it was likely to cover the space between me and itself in less than 10 seconds. The force of a 2,000-pound freight train would run me over like I was a single blade of prairie grass; my trampled bodily remains would likely become an evening feast for a wake of turkey vultures.
Suddenly, sticking around camp to help my Mom and sister make dinner sounded like a really good place to be!
I took another calm and collected step backward; the buffalo… did not move.
With my eyes pointed straight at the ground, I took one more. No reaction from the great American icon. In fact, he seemed disinterested as he licked at his nose with a long gray tongue; the slurping sound of wet muscle on slimy nostrils was loud and gross. I watched