The Noble Monarch of the Mountains

FOCUS ON NATURE The Bighorns of Black Mountain

In the stillness of a crisp December dawn in the remote and arid Black Mountains of northwestern Arizona, I stop to examine my path, a primitive game trail across a rocky precipice. Three hundred feet below, wintry shadows of towering pinnacles sprawl onto the desert floor backlit by the rising sun. The trail, cut deep into the barren rock from centuries of beating hooves, charts the feeding routes of desert bighorn sheep. On the ridge of a talus slope above me, a sentinel stands guard against the backdrop of a clear royal-blue sky. At home in its native range, the bighorn ram watches over a flock of ewes and lambs feeding on clumps of brittlebush, catclaw, and Mormon tea. The ram, head cocked, appears to be appraising my trespassing into its territory. Then, apparently judging that I'm harmless, the ram picks its way across the talus, stopping near a plump reddish-colored barrel cactus. As I watch, I realize the ram is up to something. But what I can't imagine. Camera ready, I scrutinize the animal's every movement, and hold my breath. Suddenly, the ram, lowering its head, crashes into the cactus. Nonplused at first, I finally realize what's happening. It is a survival technique few have witnessed and fewer still have photographed: the mountain sheep's ages-old remedy for obtaining precious water in dry, arid wastes. Another dull thudding report shatters the morning silence as the ram lowers its head then rebounds with the force of another assault. The sharp, elongated barbs of the barrel cactus collapse under the crushing thrusts. It is a time-consuming task, but finally the ram is able to quench its thirst. As it devours the greenish pulp, a ewe sidles up to share the moist and tender meat. The ram's threequarter-curl horns then expose the plant's remaining pulp. Desert sheep may be able to survive as long as six months without drinking, deriving metabolic water from food. But when water is available, bighorns are prodigious drinkers, consuming up to 4% gallons, or 23 percent of body weight, at a rate in excess of 2½ gallons per minute. With their enlarged water retention organs, however, the animals can withstand extreme dehydration, with body temperatures reaching 107° F. An hour passes. Bellies now full, the pair of sheep abandon the hollowed-out core of the barrel cactus and retreat to the top of the ridge where they paw beds. Choosing an easy route to the canyon floor, I clamber down the mountainside. When once on the desert floor, I stop and turn back to the mountains and catch sight of a memorable spectacle: the wild sheep standing silhouetted against the morning sky. A truly noble monarch of the desert.