The single black wolf trotted towards the edge of the large group of bison. It’s not clear why he was alone. He was most likely part of the Lamar Valley Pack. It was mid-day, and the bison ignored his initial advance. Suddenly the lone wolf charged one of bison on the edges of the herd, causing a cloud of dust to erupt as more than a thousand pounds of mostly docile animal went from standstill to 35-mile an hour in the blink of an eye. The chase continued for just a few seconds. As the wolf slowed his pursuit, the bison petered out as well.

Trotting again, perhaps catching his breath, the wolf chose a new target and the eruption of dust followed by the burst of speed occured yet again. Many of the nearby bison scattered as well, creating distance between themselves and the wolf. Again, the animals quickly ran out of steam. The wolf slowed, eventually coming to a standstill for a minute or two, and then the game started all over again. This went on six or seven times.

It was surreal. It was almost difficult to process that I was watching this unfold live and not in some nature documentary. Looking through a large spotting scope, from a vantage point high up along the valley’s edge, it felt as though I was watching some sort of sporting event. Only there was a dire consequence for the wolf’s opponent should they lose. But all the bison that afternoon won their challenges, and the wolf eventually jogged off towards the tree line. The way he moved seemed to convey that he was not all that disappointed. Perhaps he just wanted a game of tag, or to get a little exercise, or simply to remind these particular bison that it was his valley and he was in charge.