Highway Robbery

by Bruce F. Barber

I'm not sure I could believe this story if I was you. As for me, I've spent enough time in the wilds to know we humans are not the only ones who can think, plan, and understand cause-and-effect relationships.

My story begins in Baja California's San Felipe. We departed home at 6:00 a.m.; a few minutes later we were heading north along Highway 5 when I saw something on the road ahead. At first, it was but a sizeable patch of black. As the seconds ticked by-and we advanced on the patch-it became birds: ravens and red headed turkey vultures. Something had been killed and a small group from Nature's cleaning crew was enjoying an early morning repast.

It is not surprising to see two types of birds dining together; nor is it surprising to find two (or more) different animal species enjoying the same food. Recently, for example, we came upon a squirrel and a raven enjoying parts of the same sandwich someone had dropped; each apparently secure in the belief the other was no threat to its life.

Conversely, I remember watching an interesting show play itself out when a grey squirrel tried to rob acorns a woodpecker had stashed in the bark of a tree. Starting from a distance, the furtive squirrel inched its way to the tree only to be dive-bombed by the equally-alert woodpecker as it came within a meter of its goal. Over and over the show went on until the squirrel gave up (with sore spots on its head?) and went away.

Because my Highway Robbery story involves a coyote, I should add we have come upon coyotes searching for shrimp in a river-like salt water streambed. What's more, crossing the Laguna Salada one morning, we encountered two Mexican wolves returning from the shore where we knew they'd been for breakfast. In fact, one of the most surprising discoveries of my life was to watch a coyote fishing for crab with its tail. With extreme patience, the coyote allowed its tail to float on incoming tidal water until a crab, searching for its own breakfast, grabbed the tail with a pincer. Reacting with the speed of light, the coyote yanked its tail to the side tossing the startled crab on the shore where, seconds later, it became the canine's commission.

This has to be a learned activity. Can you imagine a mother coyote teaching its pups to fish? This activity involves an understanding of the incoming tide, the seasonal return of the crab, the use of the tail as a tool, and of a cause-and-effect relationship; waiting, that is, until the crab has a secure grip on its tail.

But now, returning to Highway 5, as we approached the birds feasting on an early morning road kill-I was driving at the rate of 65 miles per hour which converts to 95 feet per second-the most timid of them lifted off first followed, seconds later, by the others. Suddenly, and quite surprisingly, with the scavengers but a few feet over its head and our car close enough to be concerned, a coyote darted from the side of the road, where it had been laying in wait, to grab the fresh-killed carcass and retreat to the brush from whence it had come.

This was a case of an experienced and wily coyote giving the birds the bird. Following an early morning trek to the shore, it was returning to its daytime den when it chanced upon the birds enjoying a feast that could be his (or hers). Thinking there would be automobile traffic, it hunkered down in the brush from where it also knew it had but a handful of seconds-once the birds lifted off-before it, too, could become roadkill.

Bim, bam, thank you, ma'am. The coyote had planned and perpetrated its early morning heist in the space of so few seconds we had no time to react with a camera. There were the birds, the car, liftoff, pure highway robbery and the thrill of witnessing… survival of the fittest.