Grey beard head sheep prestige reduced

Slowly, I noticed a worrying change in the behavior of the Red Cliff sheep. First of all, the leading authority of the head sheep Graybeard is rapidly declining. Greybeard's teeth are about ten years old, this age for the red cliff sheep is not young, and can be classified as the ranks middle-aged; Greybeard's body is not particularly strong, and horns are not wider and harder than other large rams, the reason why it was embraced by the sheep as the head sheep, relying on its vision, smell and hearing is particularly sensitive, almost every snow leopard sneak attack, it is the first to find, the first sheep hooves hit the rocks to the flock It also has a lot of experience in escaping, familiar with the terrain and paths, and never takes the sheep to the cliff without a way out or chooses the wrong escape route to be intercepted by the snow leopard. Because of these two advantages, Greybeard enjoys high prestige among the flock, where it goes, the flock will follow, and no one will ever disobey its command.

But since the snow leopard was locked up by me, gray beard's command gradually failed, sometimes it ran to the river to drink water, some sheep still stay on the hillside to play; it finished drinking water back to the hill, and some sheep but in the river bank to play until dark to return to the herd. The one who behaved the most out of the ordinary was the five-year-old ram, Big White Horn. This guy is tall and sturdy, the tendon meat on the legs like a tree tumor a piece protruding out, and the head of the horns are distinctive creamy white. It seems to be particularly fussy with a gray beard, gray beard to graze in the pasture, it would like to go into the woods to chew the bark, gray beard with the flock in a cave overnight, it would like to climb to the cliff side of the saddle-shaped boulder to sleep.

Once, the flock marched to a three-way intersection, Graybeard stood at the intersection like a traffic cop to perform the duties of the head sheep, let the sheep turn left in an orderly manner, to my tent to lick the salt water. Suddenly, the big white horn leaped out of the line, squeezed into the position where Greybeard was standing, and with its beautiful horns, forced the two ewes and several lambs to turn right and go against the flock to the alfalfa field at the top of the opposite hill. This is an open challenge to authority, a blatant rebellion. Greybeard was shivering with anger, shaking his horns and baaing at the Great White Horn in a vulgar voice, presumably to teach him a lesson to regain his badly damaged prestige. The big white horn simply does not eat this, but also lights up the top of the head of the two wide and thick white horns, wringing the neck and gray beard to a high level. Graybeard look at their own tall and sturdy big white horn, probably knowing that they are not the opponent, bleating mournfully, retreating to the flock. The big white horn proudly coerced two ewes and several lambs to play in the alfalfa field for three days before returning to the group.

Alas, with the natural enemy, the snow leopard, gone, the sheep no longer need timely alerts and plenty of escape experience, and the two strengths on which the head sheep, Graybeard, relied to rule and manage the sheep have been lost, so it is no wonder that there is a centrifugal tendency.

The situation became even worse when the summer-born crop of lambs grew up. They had never experienced the ferocity and power of snow leopards, never experienced the dangerous situation of being attacked by snow leopards, being chased by snow leopards, and naturally never appreciated Graybeard's outstanding reaction ability and the art of escape, therefore, they did not consider Graybeard at all, unruly, my way, and often left the group without a word of greeting.

Later, only seven or eight older sheep are still faithful to following the head sheep's gray beard. The Red Cliff sheep flock has become a veritable scattering of sand.

The second most significant change is that the character of the Red Cliff sheep is getting rougher and rougher. In the past, they were as gentle as angels, and in all the time I have observed them, I have never found any of them seriously fighting with each other. They always grazed quietly, sunbathed quietly, and the group lived together in harmony. What touched me especially was that when they finally escaped from the snow leopard and the danger was lifted, all the members of the group would gather together, you sniffing my cheek, I rubbing your neck, bleating softly and comforting each other, celebrating each other's return from death, the scene was as close as brothers and sisters. I have dealt with many kinds of sheep, usually still seem docile, but once the conflict between food and mate, the rams will fight with each other with horns, hit each other's heads, and one party is wounded and fled, and only then stop. Even during the rutting period, the red sheep will fight for the same ewe, but they will only show off their horns and muscles and have a civilized fight with each other. In other species of sheep, you can often see one-eyed sheep and one-horned sheep, which are the masterpieces of frequent fights and brawls. In the red cliff sheep herd, on the other hand, I have never found a scarred and disabled sheep.

Unfortunately, since the snow leopard became a prisoner, the harmonious family atmosphere of the Red Cliff flock has deteriorated. They are no longer hunted by the snow leopard, no longer surprised by their escape from death, no longer afraid of the aftermath, and certainly no longer the intimate and touching scene of comforting and celebrating each other. The shadow of death over their heads is removed, and the friendship of living and dying together also fades. They became more and more like other kinds of sheep, no, their temper was more violent than other kinds of sheep. To fight for a small piece of fresh wild shepherd's purse, the two ewes would look at each other angrily and roar; to squeeze to the upstream direction to drink cleaner river water, the two rams would fight with their horns to the death; even the half-sized sheep, which had just grown young horns, would bump me and shove you all day long, twisting together and making a fuss. From morning to night, we could hear the noisy shouting of red cliff sheep and the sound of banging sheep horns in the valley of the Nahu River.

One morning, about two months later, I passed by the Red Cliff sheep at the Nahu River and was surprised to find that two of the rams in the flock had become broken-horned sheep and three had become one-eyed sheep.

The head sheep, Greybeard, no longer sang praises to me in a soft bleating voice after walking in front of me; he squinted his sheep's eyes, gave me a sad and anxious look, and hurried past with his head hanging.

Perhaps the red cliff sheep, like other species of cliff sheep, there is both a gentle side and a rough side to nature, in the past because of the threat of foreign enemies, to survive, the rough character was effectively suppressed, now, the alarm of death is no longer sounded, the hidden roughness has become explicit.