The Once, Present and Future Bull

Nowhere is the march of time more apparent than in the career of a male elk.  Nearly his entire life is controlled by his genes and their demand that he pass them on to the next generation.  I went back to observe the elk in northwest Pennsylvania this week. Late the first evening, we located the Q-Bull alone in a field.  He's been dominant in past years.  His rack is really heavy.   At first he was lying in the grasses and loudly bugling. That seemed unusual.

I'd not previously seen a bull on the ground while bugling, and his size suggested he should have cows.  But when he arose, he was clearly lame in one hind leg.  Maybe he lost a battle with a younger bull, or was just past his prime.  He's truly the old bull and unable to hold on to a harem.

The next morning it was foggy.  We located a group of eight cows and calves, but no bull was present.  Some bugling to the west caught my attention, and through the trees toward the next field, I saw the honey color of an elk.  Quickly moving closer, I was just in time to see this harem's bull coming back to his ladies.

Look at all the grass and mud on his tines. He's been wallowing and marking territory. He quickly rejoined the eight cows and calves.  Back from his little excursion, the bull will bugle - I guess as another proclamation of his territory. The sound of a big bull is both melodic and powerful.  Surely it works to intimidate smaller bulls.

You may think he is king, but in truth this is a matriarchal society, and she is the boss.  He may be a bully, but he only follows her lead.  On this morning, I watched the bull try to take the cows off to the creek crossing and become agitated when the cows wanted to go up the hillside.  He went so far as to chase a cow, but she evaded his attempts.

He ran about but the cows seemed quicker, and pushing one cow would have left the others to wander away.  The net result was that he stalked around a summer cabin and showed his displeasure.  When the last cow disappeared into the hillside, he followed.

In about seven days of watching these Pennsylvania elk, the final day was the first time I have seen spike bulls.  (Do they stay out of the way when the big bulls are all charged up in the rut?  Maybe.)  In the fog, we found a group of cows and calves with no bull. There were two spike bulls, still in velvet. There were female calves of the same size, so I am inclined to think they are calves of this year. It is interesting to see the difference in overall body size and spikes. 

So, there you have the once, the present and the future bulls in the elk society.

Paul

Pennsylvania Elk

If you have ever heard a big elk bull bugle, you understand the awe that they inspire.  Elk are native to Pennsylvania, but market hunting in late 1800's wiped them out.  Reintroduced to Elk County in 1913, they have slowly rebounded to a healthy status.  I recently went to Benezette near St. Mary's and was successful in seeing them up close.  Here are a few of my favorite images.

For every dominate bull, there are slightly smaller bulls that engage in pushing matches.

Sparring

On a foggy morning, I located a big bull. He was reported to intimidate any smaller bull that came near.  I called him Big Nasty.  He moved through the woods with not a sound, never catching the rack on any obstructions.  (He clearly knew I was there, looking directly at me.)

Big Nasty- a Dominate Bull Elk

The elk would approach very closely at times. This cow wandered in behind me and joined the bull's harem. She is a stately looking animal.  (She had no calf with  her.)

Maybe a yearling?

Such a bull has a harem of cows plus their calves.  Big Nasty kept watch over them with an eye for any intruding bull. 

Alert while the ladies feed.

Within his harem was the first piebald elk ever recorded in Pennsylvania.  Piebald is a genetic variation in which the face is white.  She looked a bit scruffy to me.

Piebald Cow and Calf

The cows would sometimes wander into the trees, and the bull would follow possibly concerned about another bull sneaking in.  He'd return with the cow and often begin bugling so strongly one could see his breath.

Big Nasty in full voice.

On another day, I saw a group of cows and calves cross a creek on their way to some woods to rest in the midday.

After they had disappeared into the woods on the far bank, the bull appeared and lowered his nose to track their path across the creek within feet of the cows' track.

We just don't easily comprehend their acute sense of smell that is so critical to their survival.

I don't think I will ever tire of hearing an elk bugle.  It is worth the trip just to hear it, and getting close just builds my appreciation for this majestic wild animal.

Paul