A Tar Pit Scuffle

The La Brea Tar Pits is a Los Angeles County Museum. The museum is located on the exact site where a whole mess of fossils of predators and plant eaters have turned up after being buried in tar for thousands of years.

I had gone to this museum several times when I was a youngster. It’s fun now going with my own son. I had wondered as a little guy how so many animals had become stuck in the tar . . .


A Tar Pit Scuffle


It was 30,000 years ago, the Paleolithic Period or Stone Age. Several Pronghorn antelope (Antilocapra americana) were grazing on the land and enjoying the bounty of a recent rainfall. One of them saw a batch of bright red berries on a bush and went to fill its belly.

The ground was soft and marshy, but the antelope continued. Reaching the plant it started eating the berries, and they were plentiful. The animal called back to its pals who left the bland offerings of the tall grass they had been eating. Their hooves sank deeply into the soil. But the berries were good and with some effort they continued through the thickly viscous mud.

There were four of them. The first antelope had been eating for several minutes without any movement. Seeing another clutch of berries on the neighboring plant he tried raising its hooves. To no avail. It’s mood quickly descended to panic, much like a human having a claustrophobic attack, and wildly contorted its body in attempt to lift its legs. Still nothing. With an effort to leap straight up into the air it merely lost its balance and flopped over. One limb was now free, but the animal could not regain an upright position. It was not mud or quick sand, as it turned out. It was tar! And it quickly enveloped this early mammal.

With one limb flailing wildly it called out in a high pitched bleating. The panic was vocally evident. Two other antelope had already sunk in nearly to their furry white belly. They were stuck and now commenced their own life struggle. The fourth, though stained with tar, managed to regain firm ground.

The loud panicked calls were sure to bring predators. Dire wolves (Canis dirus) were abundant in the region. In fact, there were several already underway following the cries of compromised prey. The single free antelope bolted at top speed. The wolves saw it running away, but were not interested. That one would require too much work.

At full speed two wolves jumped and landed on an antelope and tumbled over into the tar. The two battled each other over the meal until they were fully exhausted. One wolf had no fight left. Too tired, it lay on its belly in tar with its large paws buried in the thick black substance. The other wolf, with one paw free, clawed at the antelope puncturing its hide and causing blood to flow. Skin was torn, but little more. The wolf had little energy left after the brawl, and no leverage with which to sink teeth. These wolves were down, now. The culmination would follow in the next day or two.

A third wolf stood on top of another antelope and tore into it while it was still alive. Ravenous and unaware, the wolf. The extra weight of the wolf pushed the antelope under the tar by nightfall, but it had expired hours before.

The third antelope was stuck and sinking. It lay with its back to the commotion not knowing why the predators had not yet attacked it. The antelope could see nothing of what was happening behind it. In terror, it slowly sank thinking that at any moment it would be torn into by the vicious predators. But no. Late the next afternoon struggling for a final gasp of air of which it could not achieve. The pressure of the tar compressing around its torso was making breathing difficult. It lost consciousness.

-klem
4/2009