doing away with stock killers. I don’tnknow if this hurdle could have beennovercome or not, but in fact the projectnnever got off the ground. A group ofnlocal greenies testified that if the wolvesnwere introduced they would go toncourt to stop all testing on the range,non the grounds that it might affect thenwolves. They also indicated that theynmight enter the range to protest. Thencommander of the range, quite understandably,nwithdrew his support for thenwolves.nX! * *nThere are problems inherent in publicngrazing. Right now, the costs of leasingnare held below market value by-thengovernment. But then, they were setnthere a long time ago, and none of thenranchers I know are doing any betternthan just getting by. Unless you are annabsolute economic determinist—and,nalthough I like them better as people,npurist libertarians sometimes make menas nervous as Marxists do — you havento see some conservative value in conservingnpeople, and a way of life. I’dnhate to see the right become as selectivelynreverent for life as the greeniesnhave.nAnd the best solutions to conservingnthe western lands and this quality of lifenthat some of us prefer to that on thencoasts are coming from innovative freemarketnand conservative thinkers. Suchnideas and programs will always benopposed by urban environmentalistsnwho think all humans and all traditionalnhuman activities such as ranchingnand hunting are evil. I once took issuenin print with the late Edward Abbey—na writer who before fame andnalcohol and Earth First college readingsngot between him and his oldnsympathies with the people of thenbackcountry, wrote some of the finestnbooks about the West ever done —nover this issue of ranching. He wrotenthat he wanted “real animals, realngame, real protein: elk, buffalo, pronghornnantelope, bighorn sheep, moose.”nBut he also opposed “sport” hunting.nI replied in part: “. . . how, Ed?nHow do we get there from here?nThrow the ranchers off the range? Killnthe cowboys? . . . Surely no old anarcho-liberalnlike yourself would advocatenuprooting people who have been herenfor three generations and forcing themnto live in Phoenix or Billings ornAlbuquerque. . . . Maybe we couldnencourage them to set aside some landnfor wildlife, instead of filling it withncows . . . Maybe we would let themncharge for letting parties onto theirnland. To — I’m trying to talk somensense here, Ed — to charge fornhunting. . . . These folks were herenbefore me. And by the way, didn’t youncome from Pennsylvania?”nAbbey was in his last days then, andnnever replied, but I think he wouldnhave had some idea of what I meant.nHis cult doesn’t.nWe’re back in the Spur, havingndiscussed all this, brooding. Wade getsnthe bartender’s eye. “Get this Yankeenbook-writing son-of-a-bitch anothernJose. I want to make a toast.” We getnour lime, clink our glasses, and Wadensays “To the Earth. But not to EarthnDay, and never to Earth First.”nStephen /. Bodio is a freelance writer,noriginally from New England, whonhas lived in the Magdalena area fornten years. He is a contributing editornto Gray’s Sporting Journal, and hasnwritten four books, two of which.nAloft and Querencia, are beingnpublished this summer.nLetter From thenLower Rightnby John Shelton ReednA Mess of GreensnWhen my secesh batteries need recharging,nas they do every once in anwhile, I go hang out with someone likenmy Alabama friends Ward and Peggy.nWhen I visited them last April, we wentnon a pilgrimage to the First WhitenHouse of the Confederacy. As we floatedndown the Interstate in their splendidnold Lincoln (which they call a “Davis,”nof course). Ward told me about a recentnRight to Life march. Several thousandnAlabamians gathered in Montgomery,narrayed themselves around the statehousenwhere Jefferson Davis took thenoath of office, and sang — the “BattlenHymn of the Republic.” Oh, well.nOn the evening of Earth Day angroup of us gathered at Ward andnPeggy’s to recycle some pig. My wifenand I had spent the day driving aroundneastern Alabama and parts of westnGeorgia, and I’d seen no indication innColumbus or Opelika that anyone wasnespecially lathered about the fate of thenplanet. Certainly there was nothing toncompare to the Yankee and Californiancelebrations depicted at tedious lengthnon cable television. Eufaula and Tuskegee.nWest Point and Auburn — all hadnseemed about equally unconcerned onnthat sunny spring day, and the lack ofnenthusiasm extended to our supperntable. When I mentioned Earth Day,nthere were some groans, a joke or two,nand then a change of subject. I began tonwonder: why this Southern disdain fornthe modern American version of environmentalism?nYeah, sure, there are New Age, pantheistic,nlove-your-Mother environmentalistsnin the South. They tend, though,nto be found in Yankeefied enclaves, ornas isolated village cranks. A rock bandncalled the B-52s, for instance, collectnmoney for Greenpeace and for animalrightsngroups at their shows. But theyncome from the college town of Athens,nGeorgia; anyway, they recently movednJ^nA Periodical of Rare Qualitynand Literary InterestnSend now for a freensample copy of this newnsmall quarterly. Insightfulnessays m the “humane letters”ntradition, sharp satire, andngenuine poetry make ThenShakespeherian Rag anconsistent delight. AnnualnSubscription rates: $10.00nwithintheU.S., $16.00nfrom abroad.nim Please send me a free samplencopy of The Shakespeherian Rag.nCrrY/STATE/ZIPnnnThe Shakespeherian RagnP. O. Box442001/Lawrence, KS 66044nISSN 1045-7593nAUGUST 1990/47n