Dark Winter

Below the red cedar timber line at the base of Abernetz Mountain, ranching was never easy.  For fifty years, Jonas and Emily managed comfortably. Emily passed ten years ago. Ten years hadn’t made loneliness or winters easier for Jonas.  Loneliness, time, and rugged winters worked together to make ranching more difficult each year.  

Jonas and Emily were childless.  Emily’s widowed sister had a son not keen on moving to the Middle Rockies from New York City.  There was no other family to take over the modest ranch. Jonas was old, felt old, and knew he was old.  He started shutting down more than his ranch.

His prize stock was gone as quickly as other ranchers learned Jonas’ was “retiring.” He auctioned his working stock.  What equipment there was, too, though ranching this far north and west was mostly men, horses and cattle. Jonas brokered a deal to live comfortably on the ranch until he joined Emily. He occupied himself hunting and fishing. Made himself give the now too-big cabin a cleaning when he knew had Emily been there, she’d have felt it necessary. Every two weeks he drove to town for supplies and human contact.  Weather permitting.

Beside Drury, his working pony, Jonas kept one old bull, Lefty, a sorry, one-horned Hereford.  Lefty thought himself a Great Dane.  With a goat to keep Lefty company, a few chickens, and Drury, Jonas had companionship, something to do, purpose.

—

Tending his stock one morning, Jonas burdened Lefty with his troubles and worries.

Lefty listened.

“Winter coming. Gonna be a tough one.  Wolves are gonna be a problem, Lefty.”

Lefty wasn’t one for words. This time, he turned his head to make sure both ears got scratched.

“Soon be cold enough, wolves be hungry enough, they’ll come after the small stock.”

Lefty swapped ears again. Jonas came to no conclusions.

—

The fifth significant snow was a doozy.  The cold that came with it was brutal.  In the stable, checking on Lefty, Drury, and the goat during a brief easing of snow and temperature, he kicked down a bale of hay and some bedding. Temperatures above zero, Jonas opened the stable door to let the animals exercise in the corral before putting himself down for the night.

Jonas woke to heavy snow falling and a biting wind. Four wolves circled the far edge of the corral.  Inside the corral a big bright blanket of red snow told Joanas the wolves had taken the goat in the night and returned.

Jonas approached the corral with his carbine. From out of nowhere, as Jonas took aim at the nearest wolf, a huge wolf lunged up at Jonas, sinking his teeth into Jonas’ arm. Dropping the rifle Jonas pulled his knife and slashed wildly at the wolf’s head and neck. He connected often enough to discourage the wolf.  The wolf broke free and ran toward the timberline.  The attacker had to be the alpha because the other wolves followed in retreat to the slope leading up the mountain.

Jonas was badly hurt. Infection and loss of blood was a worry. Calls for help were impossible for lack of signal. He tended his mangled arm and badly scratched face. He secured Drury and Lefty in the stable. After that it was a matter of waiting to call for help.

After two days, on a clear and cloudless night, Joans got through to his nearest neighbor, Tom Willis, ten miles away on the west side of Abernetz Mountain.

“Got a problem, Willis.

“What’s that?”

“Wolves.”

“Figured they were gonna be this year.”

“Four, five in a pack got my goat came back for more. Tussled with a big one. Got chewed up pretty good.”

“You okay, though?”’

“Need some antibiotics, probably the hospital.”

“Roads are blocked here. Heavy snowfall on the west slope. I’ll get Doc Byrne and try to head your way first light.”

“If you can, bring your trailer. Like to get Drury and Lefty out of here, if that’s no bother.”

“No bother. But I might have to use the snow cat. Means I can’t bring the stock out.”

“Well, we’ll see. Thanks.”

Worn out by the attack and two days’ waiting, Jonas slept the sleep of the dead. He woke to an empty stable and Drury pacing the corral. There were tracks, two sets, near the far end of the corral and busted railings. One set suggested several wolves. The other, large hooves, probably those of Lefty. Both sets headed straight up the mountain slope, Lefty’s after and on top of the wolves’.

Thawed and refrozen snow dangerous for a horse, Jonas got his carbine and began the awkward hike following the tracks. Some thirty minutes later, Jonas realized he’d not taken extra cartridges. He counted what he had. Four.

Navigating the icy snowpack was tough. Jonas stopped several times.  The fifth time he stopped it was to examine the Alpha wolf’s carcass. Where Jonas had feebly warded of the wolf’s attack, there was blood but the wounds didn’t suggest they were fatal.  The alpha died because something had ripped open his entire underbelly; intestines were scattered a around the carcass as if someone or something, after eviscerating the animal, had tossed it like a rag doll into the snow. If Lefty’d tangled with the pack, one of the beasts got the worst of it.

Halfway up the mountain, Jonas heard wolves arguing over a kill.  Crossing a small crest, looking down into a small gully, Jonas saw Lefty, down but struggling, surrounded by four wolves looking to finish their kill. Jonas’s shout startled the pack. Led by the new alpha, they retreated fifty yards up the mountain and turned to watch. Lefty was in such pain he did not recognize Jonas’ when he approached.  There was but one thing to do, to end Lefty’s suffering.  For the pain in his arm, holding steady for a merciful shot was difficult but Jonas managed.

Tired, numb, and saddened, Jonas did not start immediately down the mountain. That was a mistake. For some reason, probably hunger and promise of a good meal, the pack now reduced to four started down toward Lefty and Jonas.  Noticing their advance, Jonas started upward toward them for a defensible position.

The new alpha broke toward Jonas. Again in pain, Jonas managed a shot. The new alpha fell and did not move.  The pack retreated. But for their hunger and success quickly recovered courage and again came toward Jonas. One handed, now for one useless arm, Jonas shot the lead wolf.  The two remaining wolves tucked tail and retreated far up the mountain.

Jonas began his retreat down the mountain as darkness enveloped the mountainside.  One hundred yards from the corral, Jonas heard the snarl and turned to face the wolves.

It was a hard winter for everyone.  Lefty.  The wolves. Jonas.  Winter suddenly became very dark for Jonas.

—

© spwilcenski spwilcenwrites 12/11/2024
Exposed by spwilcenwrites 12/12/2024, “A Vignette – December 12, 2024