Joining Sir David Attenborough (RIP Boaty McBoatface) already in progress: The cows are attended on this plain by the dominant bull elk. For clarity as the story unfolds, we will call him Right Elk. Right Elk is happy. We can count at least 8 cows in his group. A young elk enters the picture. He is hopeful that at the very least Right Elk will share. The young elk (whom we shall call Left Elk for clarity) is bugling his heart out. Combined with the visual, it is a lonely, sad song. Right Elk is not at all concerned with the new arrival, the pretender to the throne. His concern levels are such that he is stood over to the right of our plain chewing on grass.
As well, the cows have taken no notice of Left Elk. Life on the right side of the plain is the same as it ever has been. Safe. Secure. Under the complete control of Right Elk. Left Elk continues raising a ruckus... hopeful that he will woo some of the cows to his side of the plain. He tries at the top of a hill. He tries in a little valley at the foot of the hill. He tries close to the bank of the stream that runs through the plain. He decides that maybe he didn't say the right things from the crest of the hill, so he tries again. Still no cows have taken notice. Neither has Right Elk.
Life on the right side of the plain is the same as it ever has been. Right Elk keeps a lazy eye on his harem. Left Elk is as persistent as he is alone. He has now abandoned his tactic of changing his location and bugling as it has turned up no increased attention from the cows in Right Elk's group. Left Elk drifts ever closer to the stream, pausing for a moment to gird his loins for the conflict he knows will occur if he crosses the stream. In one of those marvelous inexplicable moments in nature, Right Elk seems to detect that as Left Elk approaches the stream, his intentions are different this time.
Watching the action unfold, the observer at this point would feel safe in presuming that Left Elk is young and not proficient in the ways of elk conflict and would be correct to jump to conclusions based upon this presumption. Where, though, would be the amusement in presuming? Left Elk is creeping closer and closer to the stream that bisects the plain, seemingly delineating Right Elk's sphere of control. As he does so, Right Elk takes note and begins slowly moving himself towards the area to which Left Elk seems intent on crossing. Periodically as he crosses he will issue a challenge bugle, but his bugling, like his speed of movement, seems to belie how precisely little he is worried about this "challenger". He's seen the likes of Left Elk before, it seems.
In the meantime, Right Elk's cows continue munching contentedly on the lovely patch of grass on the corner of the plain opposite to where the action is to take place. It is as though they, too, have seen the likes of Left Elk before and know that there is no upset imminent in their social order.
Left Elk has finally mustered the courage to cross the stream. Once he does so, he bugles invitation to any willing cow from Right Elk's group to join him. It is after all a very lovely patch of grass as well and would you look at this lovely stream. Oh and me too. I'm really quite virile. It is a veritable nature's version of Coffee, Tea, or Me?. Wise to Left Elk's plan, Right Elk arrives on the scene quickly, not because he has hurried, but more because he has anticipated where this encounter is going. Like a chess Grand Champion, he has seen the board well before Left Elk has even contrived his moves.
Another challenge is bugled by Right Elk as he approaches Left Elk and offers his antlers in challenge. Left elk simultaneously fails to bugle in return as he demurs and refuses the offer of Right Elk's antlers. As the conflict simmers down on the back of Left Elk's refusal to engage, Right Elk continues to approach and ends up close enough that he could engage if he wanted. His interest in the situation, however, is waning as quickly as Left Elk's. While it is unclear whether Left Elk knows Right Elk and his seemingly sizeable reputation or is just intimidated by Right Elk's size, it is clear that the day has already been won. As the cows continue to much their grass contentedly while ignoring the low-key drama on the opposite corner of the plain, Left Elk disengages, crosses the stream back to where he had come from and eventually leaves sight via the high ground, which consists of the hill from which he had bugled earlier. That ought to show Right Elk.
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