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Lessons on Survival From a Jackal’s Dinner : Evolution: Taking one creature’s life to sustain your own is neither right nor wrong; it is part of the cycle.

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Ken Vorisek, a conservationist and member of the Fairbanks (Alaska) Fish and Game Advisory Committee, lived in Africa in 1994

As I sat in the hot African sun, I watched in horror as two jackals viciously pulled the entrails from a hole they had just chewed through the stomach of an injured impala. The impala, with its head up and fully alert, lay bawling in its death bed as this slow and agonizing struggle for life unfolded. The impala’s death would not be quick or painless.

Witnessing the cruelty of this natural struggle had my senses and emotions on overload; answers to questions and the need to understand were acute. Is nature cruel, evil or wrong for evolving into such an extreme process to perpetuate life? Is it only through this seemingly barbaric manner that life can be sustained?

It became apparent that I would never be able to answer these questions. I would never have the degree of understanding it would take to judge these natural occurrences as good or evil. I would never have the wisdom to say it was right or wrong or that I knew a better way. The best I could do was to be brutally honest in my observations and to accept nature as it is.

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Hours later, as the impala exhaled its last breath, I surmised that all life forms have unique traits that are necessary for them to survive in nature’s current period of evolution. The impala has sharp eyes, a keen sense of smell and muscular legs that can propel it from danger with leaps that exceed 20 feet. Yet the smaller jackal, with its tenacious disposition and cunning mind, is equally equipped for survival. Today, the jackal won.

As I sat watching the jackals feed, I realized that I, too, evolved under this same natural process. I am as much a part of nature as the jackal or the impala. My slow legs, dull sense of smell and poor eyesight do not seem very suitable for survival in this world. However, nature gave me a level of complex thinking and a degree of manual dexterity that rivals that of any other life form. I reasoned that these must be the traits that nature has given humans so that we might succeed in our struggle to survive.

One of the jackals had its fill and went to a nearby bush to lie in the shade while digesting its meal. At that moment a giant bull kudu, its horns spiraling toward the sky, stepped into a clearing not 20 yards away. I slowly raised my bow and released an arrow. It hit the kudu just behind the front shoulder and cut cleanly through both lungs. The massive bull stood for a moment, unsure what had happened, then, in less than 15 seconds, fell to the ground dead.

Some will condemn my actions as wrong, immoral or cruel. They will say I have not searched my soul or that I should not be meddling with nature. They will say I have no right to take an animal’s life. But I must ask them: Was it wrong for the jackals to kill the impala? If I also evolved through nature, is it wrong for me to do the same?

No one can escape the necessity of taking another form of life in order to survive. It makes no difference whether you are jackal, impala or human. It makes no difference whether you eat plants or animals, grow your food or harvest it from the wild. You must take life to sustain life.

How do you choose which life form is OK for you to use and which is not? How do you choose, or should you choose, which life form is OK for others to use?

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While I guided my knife through the kudu’s hide, separating it from the meat, I knew that if taking another creature’s life to sustain my own is wrong, then nature itself is wrong. As I loaded the last piece of meat into the back of the truck, it became clear to me that nature is neither right nor wrong; it simply is. Likewise, using the traits and resources nature gave us to provide for our survival is neither right nor wrong, but rather a necessity in nature’s evolution.

With a wide smile, a native African boy took a bite from a freshly cooked piece of kudu meat, juices dripping down his chin. There was no apology in his eyes. Like the jackal, he also must eat. My arrow provided him, as well as myself, with needed nourishment for that day.

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