Buffalo Jump Blues Read Free Page B

impact.”
    â€œMaybe.”
    â€œHad to be hard, what you did.”
    â€œShooting them was an act of mercy. Seeing them suffer, that was hard. How many have you killed?”
    â€œBison?” The man took the question seriously, ran his eyebrows together as he considered. “I’d say three hundred plus since I contracted to DOL. They stray out of the park, out of the buffer zone, I get the call.”
    â€œYou ever think about not answering the phone?”
    Barr seemed to think about that question, too. “There’s a way I look at it,” he said. “If it isn’t me, then they get somebody else. Then maybe the bullets don’t go where they’re supposed to and somebody has to clean up the mess, like you did yonder.”
    â€œYou’re the reluctant executioner who makes sure the job is done humanely.”
    â€œBuffalo take a lot of killing.” Barr rubbed the hairy back of his hand against the bison calf’s forehead.
    â€œThose bison this morning,” Harold prompted. “If they hadn’t fallen off the cliff, you were going to kill them anyway, am I right?”
    â€œI won’t lie to you. As soon as they crossed onto the public land, the department had the green light.”
    â€œYou’d have shot this calf along with the rest.”
    â€œThat’s the policy. You want to get all of them. You don’t want to leave one that has the unacceptable behavior ingrained, because it will lead others back to the same place.”
    â€œUnweaned calf do that?”
    â€œIt’s policy to cull them all.”
    â€œâ€˜Cull.’ That’s an interesting word. I saw some cowboys cull a herd of thirty up out of Gardiner once, enough blood to cover a football field. One cow was dragging her guts on the ground, little calf like this one following her.”
    The calf was bawling again and Harold rubbed its head.
    â€œWhat are you thinking to do?” Barr said.
    â€œSheriff has a cow lost its calf. We’ll wrap this little guy in the skin and hope she accepts him.”
    Barr nodded. “I heard of that being done, but never heard of it take. Worth a shot. I say good luck to you.”
    Martha and Drake were coming back, Drake making a tisking sound with his tongue as he shook his head.
    â€œHarold, you know I can’t let you have that calf.”
    â€œNot my calf to give. This is a wild, free-ranging bison,” Harold said.
    â€œThere ain’t no such animal, no sir.”
    â€œTimes are changing, Drake. The buffalo are coming back, just like the wolf did. It’s people like you the clock’s ticking down on.”
    â€œYou’re wrong about that, but that’s not the issue. This calf hasn’t gone through quarantine and it could be spreading disease to cattle.”
    â€œYou mean brucellosis. That’s bullshit and you know it.”
    â€œMy job is to remove bison that have strayed beyond the zone of tolerance, which this herd clearly had. Plus you’re violating state law pertaining to possession of wildlife.”
    Harold looked at Martha, who didn’t return his glance. He looked at Barr, who had stepped away from the truck. It had become an old-fashioned western, two men in a dusty street.
    â€œâ€˜Pertaining,’ huh? You must have learned a new word, Drake.”
    Drake pulled at his cigarette. “We’ll wait until you’re gone to do our duty, that makes a difference to you.”
    â€œNo, I’ll be taking him with me.”
    The man nodded, showed his teeth in a gray smile, as if that was the response he’d expected.
    â€œThen I’ll have to write you up to the supervisor. Someone will be knocking. Probably be me.”
    â€œWe’ll have the TV crew on call. World can see you for what you are. Tell you what, though, it comes to that, I’ll rub your smile in buffalo manure for the camera. Rest of your life, first thing people will think when