Walk Like a Warrior

The sound of thunder rolled in the distance, but there was no storm. Dust swirled into the night sky, but there was no wind. We drove on through the South Dakota Badlands, waiting for the unseen phenomenon to show itself. The darkness became a light shade of tan—we caught movement on the right. Huge shapes careened down the hills and through the draws, crossing the road in front of us. Bruce hit the brakes as bison of every size and shape flicked through our headlights like an old western movie. As quickly as the stampede pounded through, it disappeared, leaving us awed and bewildered. We had truly come to a wild land.

Arriving at the campground very late and trying to be inconspicuous in our diesel truck, we camped at the far edge where the tent sites bordered open land—wildlife abounded, and we wanted to be right in the middle of 'em. Little did we know ...

We woke up to a beautiful, crisp morning—and a mysterious sound of snorting, munching, and stomping. We wanted to see wildlife, but by the sound of things we were beginning to think we had gotten a little more than we bargained for.

I opened the flap of our tent and stared out at a world from centuries past. Everything from the twenty-first century was erased from view—by a couple of hundred bison! They grazed everywhere and all around our tent and truck! Two little curious calves stepped cautiously toward me as I held my hand out through the opening. I tried to touch their noses, but that was a little much for them, and they scampered off.

We were having great fun—until their mama snorted and pushed her nose against the back of our tent.