21M

By Christine Baleshta

The last time I saw 21M he was swimming across a narrow S-shaped bend in the Lamar River below Amethyst Peak. On the other side is a carcass where other Druid Peak Pack members wait. I follow his head and wet grey fur pushing through the water and watch him step on to a sandy bank where he shakes the river off, muscles rippling. He barely feeds on the carcass. Instead he climbs the bank and lies down near 286F and washes himself. His head is smeared with blood. The Druids recently chased an elk and there was blood on its flank. I wonder if the alpha was injured during the hunt as I watch carefully for signs of distress, but there are none. The cold fog which blocked our view of the valley earlier has lifted to reveal a sky the color of blue birds. It was our last morning in Yellowstone, May 15, 2004.

I had only a glimpse of 21M in the fall of ‘98. He and 40Fwere trotting east at the edge of the trees, just above the spot where he and 286F sunned themselves that Saturday morning in the Lamar. It was the first time I had ever seen wolves in the wild. The experience lasted all of five minutes, dark shapes quickly gliding by in the cold mist of a grey morning. Their image remains planted in my memory and lures me back to the Stone season after season.

I have seen 21M many times since. Watching from a hill looking over the Lamar Valley as the Druids tore over the hills from Cache Creek to the rendezvous site or sunning themselves on rocks and in the grass. As the pack grew to 37, I’ve watched him play with pups and cross creeks, a line of 21 Druids leaping through the water behind him. I’ve watched him tear dinner from an elk half under water in Soda Butte Creek. I’ve watched him remain strong as his coat faded from black to gray. But the most striking image I hold is 21M crossing the road near the confluence, the spring of 2003. He crossed there all the time coming from the south side of the river and disappearing behind a bank, then reappearing suddenly in the tall grass. Cautiously he runs across the road to the worn, winding path that climbs steeply to the den site. At the bottom of the path at the edge of the road he stops and turns back, looking at us. He holds a stick in his mouth, a toy to distract the pups. A moment passes and he turns again and hurries up the hill.

I cannot help but think of 8M, 21M’s stepfather when I remember how 21M stepped in to become the new alpha male of the Druid pack. 21M was one of the puppies in the famous first litter in Yellowstone. When his mother, 9F, lost her mate, 10M, illegally shot outside the park, 8M stepped in to become alpha male of the new pack. Like 8M, 21M replaced 38M, alpha male of the Druids, who lost 38M also through an illegal shooting. In the winter of 2000, 21 M mated with 40F, her sister 42F, and 105F, and three litters were produced, a total of 18 pups. The pack’s total would eventually skyrocket to 37 and subsequently split apart into separate, smaller packs forming a huge extended wolf family of sorts.

Now 21M is gone. Somewhere around June 11th he disappeared. When the Druids traveled, hunted, or played at the rendezvous site, there was no sign of 21M. As the sun rose over the Lamar, wolf spotters watched competing males 253M and 302M scent mark and display dominance behaviors. Just before 21M’s disappearance the Druids killed an elk and the bull gave them a particularly tough fight. The hope seemed to be that 21M was injured and just laid up for a while. On July 19th a horse pack trip reported finding the remains of a dead wolf near Opal Creek on the Mirror Plateau. The wondering was over. 21M was nine years old and had led the Druids for six years.

Something was missing my last trip in October. Despite the excitement and anticipation of both a new alpha-female and a new alpha-male for the Druids, and an obsession with all the fascinating wolf interaction which go with that mysterious decision, throughout that time I felt like I was always looking for someone who was there, but couldn’t see. 21M’s presence is still strongly felt in the Lamar Valley. He is still thought of and talked about by all those who have been monitoring the Druids’ antics for years. I think of him in much the same way that I remember his famous mother, 9F, who was mother and grandmother to so many of Yellowstone’s wolves. A patriarch.

What do I remember when I think of him now? A wolf leading 16 wolves in a straight line under Amethyst Peak, trotting along, stopping and looking back at pups distracted by their playground that is Yellowstone. A massive, grey wolf, lying on his side, stuffed after feeding on a bison carcass. Lying in the sun on a bank of the Lamar River, licking the blood from his face and paws. And standing at the edge of the road about to climb the path leading to his newest offspring and looking back at us with a stick between his jaws.

For other Yellowstone Wolf Journals by Christine Baleshta see the Naturewriting Journal Table of Contents