Silas laughed harder than the joke deserved.
The ranch changed too.
Crow’s Edge Wilderness Tours became something more than a place for horseback rides and scenic photographs. Silas did not turn Nabid into an attraction, not in the cheap sense. Tourists were not allowed to crowd the fence or call at him. No one fed him. No one posed beside him. But people heard the story during rides. They saw the distant white bull standing beneath the mountains. Some asked questions. Some grew quiet.
Children understood him quickly.
“So he was angry because he was scared?” one little girl asked during a summer tour.
Silas considered the question. “Something like that.”
“And then he got a bigger home?”
“Yes.”
The girl nodded as if the matter were obvious. “Everyone needs enough room.”
That night, Silas told Nessa about it.
“She’s right,” Nessa said.
“Children usually are before adults teach them not to be.”
This story touched a part of me that has hurt underneath several careers and 65 years of life. I'm 71 now. My family is a long established name there. My memories of ranching, accidents, rodeo stock, flash floods and family loss are different than the way life is lived today. This story is magnificent, thank you for sharing it. And maybe there's hope for some of us humans that just need space and understanding. It's been 40 years since I became a civilian after 11 years as a
U.S. Marine. This story and that bull have more meaning than some will ever know. Thank you once again. Job well done.