“Surely He took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows, yet we considered Him stricken by God, smitten by Him, and afflicted. But He was pierced for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon Him, and by His wounds we are healed. We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way; and the LORD has laid on Him the iniquity of us all.”
The wolf saw the bear before the hunter did. In fact, the hunter didn’t see the bear at all. The hunter was not a great friend of the wolf, but the bear was an enemy of both. The wolf saw, from his place on an outcrop of rock, that the bear was making straight for the hunter, but that it had to cross the wolf’s path to get to the man, who was underdressed in a ball cap, jeans sweater and leather gloves.
The wolf knew the bear would make short work of the man, who was busy at something in the middle of a clearing, paying no attention to his surroundings. The wolf had a decision to make: stay uninvolved and let nature take its course, as it were, or enter a fight that was not his own for the sake of a weaker animal, with the potential of serious harm to himself. For although he would have the surprise factor on the bear, and a superior position, a fight with a bear rarely leaves a wolf unscathed.
The bear was building up steam, sniffing the air, puffing out great clouds of cold air when the wolf was suddenly upon him. The bear was so startled that it had no time to roar, because the wolf was immediately at its throat, and had him down on the ground. The bear reached for the wolf, but its claws hit nothing but air as it struggled against the darkness. The wolf and the bear lay still for awhile, and just as the wolf thought he was out of danger, the bear’s back claws reached the wolf’s hide and ripped. The wolf yelped with pain, but held the bear’s neck fast, getting a new and better grip, and held on until the great bear was lifeless.
The wolf struggled along the path, and made his way over to the man, to assure him that the danger was past. He saw the man on the other side of the clearing, startled at the wolf’s presence, but suddenly pleased. The man crouched down, in supplication, summoning the wolf with a wave of his hand. Here was a new thing, the wolf thought, a man and a wolf, friends at last. He made his way across the clearing, but as he took a step in the center, two metal jaws clamped around his paw.
The pain was incredible, and he knew three things at once – 1) his paw was useless; 2) his life as king of the woods was over; and 3) the man had done this to him.
The man watched the wolf walk in circles for awhile, watching the snow around the trap gradually get pinker and pinker with the wolf’s blood. The man got bored watching the wolf dying after awhile, and then got busy setting something on a tree stump near the edge of the clearing. He took his gloves off to touch some buttons, and finally he was ready. The wolf, tongue lolling out of his mouth, near death, walking in circles relentlessly, looked up just as the self-timer on the man’s camera went off.
"Father forgive them, for they know not what they do."
A few moments later, after suffering at the hands of the one he saved, the wolf died in the pink snow.
(Just so I'm not misunderstood - this is a real photo taken by the hunter pictured here. I came up with the parable when I saw it, and imagined what might have occurred beforehand. Obviously, a wolf is not going to take on a bear, so I'm applying for a poetic license here.