A Close Encounter

This morning I awoke to some strange snorting noises. In my befuddled state, I confess I at first believed it to be mother’s snoring. But as I recovered my wits, I realized I was far from the settlement, and that the grunts were clearly animal in nature. It became clear that one of the bison was sniffing at the door to my tent. I sat perfectly still, fearing I would disturb the beast and squander this opportunity for up-close observation. He poked and prodded at a few loose sundries, then mouthed the tentpoles for a bit before he wandered off. When I finally deemed it safe to venture out, I realized the beast had made off with my bag of rations! I was able to follow at a safe distance, and snatch back my stolen property when it went for a drink in the river. I can hear it groaning in the distance, as if to lament the loss of my bushel of apples and mother’s elderberry pie. It might sound crazy, but I can’t shake the feeling its huffing has a familiar rhythm to it…