Don't fence me in Though he had no qualms about killing one of a
species tottering toward extinction, the experience opened his
eyes to the plight of wildlife in general. It helped turn the
24-year-old budding politician into a major player in the early
conservation movement. Roosevelt, and conservationists since
then, couldn't stop agricultural developments, including 45.5
million cattle, from replacing up to 65 million bison on the
historical bison range. But today, just outside this small town
of neat houses and little shops, in between the cattle ranches
in a badlands of rugged gullies and sculpted draws, more bison
roam than in the days Roosevelt hunted. Their sanctuary is named
Theodore Roosevelt National Park, after the chest-thumping
president himself. From an overlook, I spot a herd of about 35
bison lounging near a prairie dog town. As if on cue, the bison
rise as one and move down a draw, continually grazing as they
step through the native bunchgrasses. I can't help but be
inspired by the shaggy be