*-*He stands alone at the top of the hill*-*
*-*And sings his mournful cry,*-*
*-*His mate and cubs are missing*-*
*-*He's not certain why.*-*
*-*He had been out hunting*-*
*-*Was gone for only a day,*-*
*-*And hurried back with empty jaws*-*
*-*So scarce now was their prey.*-*
*-*He wasn't gone long*-*
*-*Eager to get home,*-*
*-*But the den was cold and empty*-*
*-*And he sensed something was wrong.*-*
*-*The smell of man was everywhere*-*
*-*With footprints in the dirt,*-*
*-*And blood shed from his family*-*
*-*He knew they had been hurt.*-*
*-*He sat and waited day by day*-*
*-*With hopes they would return,*-*
*-*There wasn't much he could do*-*
*-*Except quietly sit and yearn.*-*
*-*Why would man come all this way*-*
*-*To hunt and shoot them down,*-*
*-*To interrupt their quiet lives*-*
*-*When no harm had been done?*-*
*-*Their territory plainly marked*-*
*-*And not once did they stray,*-*
*-*For they would rather starve to death*-*
*-*Than to get in man's way.*-*
*-*The smell of chickens, cows and sheep*-*
*-*Were so tempting at times,*-*
*-*But instincts warned not to hunt them*-*
*-*Or they would lose their lives.*-*
*-*And so they lived a quiet life*-*
*-*Existing on small game,*-*
*-*Careful it was only wildlife*-*
*-*And nothing man had tamed.*-*
*-*So he could find no reason*-*
*-*For the blood shed on that day,*-*
*-*So peacefully they lived here*-*
*-*So far out of man's way.*-*
*-*Maybe they'd be coming back*-*
*-*His cubs and his mate,*-*
*-*Wolves are mated once for life*-*
*-*So he would sit and wait.*-*
*-*That was many moons ago*-*
*-*And they have not come back,*-*
*-*But he will not stop hoping*-*
*-*For the reunion of his pack.*-*
*-*He now knows men are murderers*-*
*-*But still does not know why,*-*
*-*And every night he climbs his hill*-*
*-*And sings his mournful cry.*-*
~Author Unknown
*-*And sings his mournful cry,*-*
*-*His mate and cubs are missing*-*
*-*He's not certain why.*-*
*-*He had been out hunting*-*
*-*Was gone for only a day,*-*
*-*And hurried back with empty jaws*-*
*-*So scarce now was their prey.*-*
*-*He wasn't gone long*-*
*-*Eager to get home,*-*
*-*But the den was cold and empty*-*
*-*And he sensed something was wrong.*-*
*-*The smell of man was everywhere*-*
*-*With footprints in the dirt,*-*
*-*And blood shed from his family*-*
*-*He knew they had been hurt.*-*
*-*He sat and waited day by day*-*
*-*With hopes they would return,*-*
*-*There wasn't much he could do*-*
*-*Except quietly sit and yearn.*-*
*-*Why would man come all this way*-*
*-*To hunt and shoot them down,*-*
*-*To interrupt their quiet lives*-*
*-*When no harm had been done?*-*
*-*Their territory plainly marked*-*
*-*And not once did they stray,*-*
*-*For they would rather starve to death*-*
*-*Than to get in man's way.*-*
*-*The smell of chickens, cows and sheep*-*
*-*Were so tempting at times,*-*
*-*But instincts warned not to hunt them*-*
*-*Or they would lose their lives.*-*
*-*And so they lived a quiet life*-*
*-*Existing on small game,*-*
*-*Careful it was only wildlife*-*
*-*And nothing man had tamed.*-*
*-*So he could find no reason*-*
*-*For the blood shed on that day,*-*
*-*So peacefully they lived here*-*
*-*So far out of man's way.*-*
*-*Maybe they'd be coming back*-*
*-*His cubs and his mate,*-*
*-*Wolves are mated once for life*-*
*-*So he would sit and wait.*-*
*-*That was many moons ago*-*
*-*And they have not come back,*-*
*-*But he will not stop hoping*-*
*-*For the reunion of his pack.*-*
*-*He now knows men are murderers*-*
*-*But still does not know why,*-*
*-*And every night he climbs his hill*-*
*-*And sings his mournful cry.*-*
~Author Unknown
