Rattlesnakes, bison, and bear, OH MY!

The Badlands, SD were beautiful. We got there in the afternoon, hiked up the pale pink piles of ash, then set up camp in the "primitive" campground.On the 30 minute drive from the mountains to the back country campground, we were stopped by Nate yelling, "Look! A buffalo!" there were 5 Bison lying in the prairie a quarter mile from the highway. Four were sitting, and one was walking lazily through the grass in search of something to devour. Then prairie dogs began to rhythmically pop up out of their holes. There were hundreds along the road. When we got to the campsite, we realized why it was called "primitive" and "back country." Two extremely large bison were enjoying the afternoon sun just 100 short yards from our tent site. Soon after that, we noticed the many "BEWARE: RATTLESNAKES" signes scattered around the campground. That night, we went to an overlook called "Pinnacle Point" to watch the sun set over the Badlands. In the morning, we woke up to hundreds of bison stampeding down a steep hill close by. They left a cloud of dust hovering over the ground. We packed up the van, then drove nine hours to Red Lodge, a small town in southern Montana. We decided to walk to a restaurant which was one mile away. On the way back, the sun had gone down, and the temperature dropped 25 degrees. While shivering and huddling together, a man in a pizza delivery car pulled up to us. "I don't know how far you guys are walking, but..." we all immediately grew hopeful that he was offering us a ride, "...But two blocks up I saw a bear. It was going towards the creek." My mom recalled that earlier, people had told her that there were 5 bears roaming around town. We walked back very obnoxiously, making loud noises. Despite our efforts to frighten them away, we saw a bear across the road, roaming through a dumpster. Having never been so close to a bear before, I was terrified. Five minutes after, a howling noise echoed from the woods, sending shivers down my spine. The howling and barking got closer, and I saw a large black shape emerge from the shadows. Thinking I was about to be eaten by a bear, I followed my instincts: I ran. Luckily, my dad, who was holding my hand, held me back from bolting into the middle of the street. Fortunately, the "bear" was a fenced in dog. We walked the rest of the way home shaking from fear and the cold. Hopefully, when we camp in Wyoming, we will not come upon another bear.