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Bruin: The Grand Bear Hunt
Chapter Fifteen.
Old Nalle
While proceeding towards the ground where they expected to find the bear, their guide informed them that he had not only ringed the animal, but actually knew the den in which it was lying. This was still better: it would not only save them a search, but enable them to encompass the beast on all sides and cut off his retreat – should he attempt to bolt before they could get near.
On approaching the place, therefore, Pouchskin proposed that the three should separate, and, after having deployed into a circle, proceed inward from different directions.
But the guide opposed this suggestion – saying, with a significant smile, that there was no need of such precautions, as he would answer for the bear not leaving his den, until they had all got up as near as they might wish to be.
The hunters wondered at this confidence on the part of their guide, but in a few minutes’ time they had an explanation of it. Going up to a sort of cliff that formed the side of a little stony knoll, the Quän pointed to a hole in the rocks, saying, as he did so: —
“Old nalle is in there.”
Now “nalle” is the nickname of the bear throughout the Scandinavian countries, and our Russian hunters knew this well enough; but that a bear could be inside the little hole, to which their guide had pointed, appeared utterly incredible, and Ivan and Alexis burst into a loud laugh, while Pouchskin was rather inclined to show a little anger about the matter.
The hole which the Quän had pointed out was a crevice between two great boulders of rock. It was about a yard above the ground, upon which they stood; and was certainly not more than six or eight inches in diameter. All round the orifice the rocks were thickly coated with ice; and from the top of the cliff on both sides huge icicles projected downwards, until their tips touched the earth, looking like enormous trunks of elephants, or such as even mammoths might have carried. One of these immense icicles was directly in front of the aperture; while on the ground just below its point stood up a huge mass of an irregular conical shape, the convex surface of which was coated with snow that had lately fallen.
The first impression of the hunters was, that they had been deceived by the cunning Quän. Pouchskin declared that they would not stand being tricked; and at once demanded back the ten rix-dollars which his young masters had paid for the “ring” of the bear.
“It was all nonsense,” he said; “even if there was a cave, no bear could be inside, for the simple reason that none, even the smallest, could possibly have squeezed his carcass through a hole like that; – a cat could hardly have crept into such an aperture. Besides, where were the tracks of the bear? There were none to be seen – neither by the mouth of the hole, nor in the snow outside.”
There were old tracks of the peasant himself and of a dog, but not of a bear.
“It’s a decided take-in,” grumbled Pouchskin.
“Patience, master!” said the Quän. “There is a bear inside for all that; and I’ll prove it, or else return you your money. See my little dog! he’ll tell you old nalle is there. It was he that told me.”
As the Quän said this he let slip a diminutive cur, which he had hitherto held in the leash. The animal, on being set free, rushed up to the hole, and commenced scratching at the ice, and barking in the most furious and excited manner. It certainly proved there was some living creature inside; but how could the Quän tell it was a bear? and, above all, a black bear!
He was interrogated on this point.
“By it,” replied the peasant, taking from his pouch a tuft of long black fur, which was evidently that of a bear; “that is how I know that old nalle’s in the cave, and the colour of the hair tells me that it’s black nalle who’s inside.”
“But how came you by that?” inquired all three in a breath, as the man held the tuft before their eyes.
“Well, masters!” answered the Quän, “you see some jaggy points on the rock, at the top of the hole, there. I found it sticking there, where the bear must have left it, as he was squeezing himself into his cave – that’s how it was.”
“But surely,” said Alexis, “you don’t mean to assert that a bear could pass through such a hole as that? Why, a badger couldn’t get in there, my man!”
“Not now,” said the Quän, “I admit; it’s three months since he went in. The hole was bigger then.”
“Bigger then?”
“Certainly, masters! the heap you see below is only ice. It’s the drip of that great icicle that has frozen up as it fell, and if it were not there you’d see a place big enough for a bear to get in. Ah! sirs! he’s there, I can assure you.”
“Why, he couldn’t get out of himself?”
“That is very true,” replied the peasant; “he’d be safe enough there till a good bit on in the spring. If we hadn’t found him, he would have been obliged to stay in his cave till the sun had thawed that great heap out of his way. It often happens so with the bears in these parts,” added the Quän, without seeming to think there was anything unusual about the circumstance.
What the man said was literally true. The bear had gone into this cleft or cave to take his winter nap, and during the long weeks, while he was thus hybernating, the water, of rain and melting snow, dripping from the top of the cliff, had formed enormous stalactites of ice, with stalagmites as well: since it was one of the latter that had closed up the entrance to the den, and fairly shut him up in his own house!
Not only does this curious accident often occur to Scandinavian bears, but these animals, notwithstanding their proverbial sagacity, frequently become their own jailers. They have a habit of collecting large quantities of moss and grass in front of their caves, which they place right in the aperture; and not inside as a bed to lie upon. Why they do so is not clearly understood. The Scandinavian hunters allege that it is for the purpose of sheltering them from the cold wind, that would otherwise blow up into their chamber; and in the absence of any better explanation this has been generally adopted. The heap soon gets saturated by rain and melting snow, and congeals into a solid mass, so hard that it requires to be cut with an axe before it can be got out of the way; and the bear himself is totally incapable of removing it. The consequence is that it often shuts up the entrance to his winter chamber; and Bruin, on awakening from his sleep, finds himself caught in a trap of his own construction. He has then no other resource but to remain inside till the spring heats have thawed the mass, so that he can tear it to pieces with his claws, and thus effect an exit. On such occasions, he issues forth in a state of extreme weakness and emaciation. Not unfrequently he is altogether unable to clear away the obstacle, and perishes in his den.
On hearing these explanations from the Quän, who appeared to be well acquainted with Bruin’s habits, the young hunters were satisfied that a bear was really in the cave. Indeed, they were not long upon the spot, till they had still more satisfactory evidence of this fact; for they could hear the “sniffing” of the animal, with an occasional querulous growl, as if uttered in answer to the barking of the dog. Beyond doubt, there was a bear inside.
How was he to be got out? That now became the important question.
Chapter Sixteen.
The Staked Enclosure
They waited, for a time, in hopes that he might show his snout at the little aperture, and all three stood watching it, with guns cocked and ready. A good while passed, however, and, as no snout made its appearance, they came to the conclusion that the bear was not to be caught in that simple way. By the snorting growl they could tell that he was at no great distance from the entrance, and they thought a pole might reach him. They tried this, but found that it could be inserted only in a diagonal direction; and although Pouchskin poised in the pole, and bent it round like a rattan, he could not touch wool anywhere; while the bear, though he gave tongue now and then, still kept his place at the further end of the cave.
No other plan offered, except to cut away the icy mass, and set open the mouth of the cavity. If this were done, would Bruin be then likely to come forth? The Quän was confident he would; alleging as his reason, that, in consequence of the spell of warm weather there had been, the bear must have fully shaken off his winter drowsiness, and would no doubt have been abroad long ago, but for the ice preventing his egress from the den. As soon as that should be removed, he would be pretty sure to sally out – for hunger, said the peasant, will bring him forth, if not just at the moment, certainly within an hour or so. At the worst they could wait a while. Moreover, were the ice removed, they might be able to reach him with a pole; and that would be certain to put him in such a rage as would at once tempt him to make a sortie.
With this idea, Pouchskin seized his axe, knocked the great icicle into “smithereens,” and was about going to work upon the huge stalagmite that blocked up the entrance, when he was interrupted by the Quän.
“With your leave, master!” said the latter, as he laid his hand upon Pouchskin’s arm to restrain him. “Not so fast, if you please?”
“Why?” asked the ex-guardsman, “don’t you intend to unearth the brute?”
“Yes, master,” replied the Quän; “but something must be done first. This is a black bear, you must know.”
“Well, and what of a black one more than any other?” demanded Pouchskin, somewhat surprised, for in the forests of Russia, where he had hunted bears, there were no black ones.
“Don’t you know,” said the Finn, “that Black Nalle is always bigger and fiercer than his brown brother? Besides, just at this time he will be so savage with hunger, that he would eat one of us up the moment he got out. If that ice was away, I shouldn’t like to stand here. Take your time, master! I think I can show you a better plan, at all events it is a safer one. It’s a way we practise here – when we are sure that a bear is asleep, and won’t interrupt us while we’re making ready for him.”
“Oh, well,” replied Pouchskin, “I’m agreeable to anything you propose. I’m not particularly desirous of risking another wrestle – not I – I had enough of that the other day.” And as the old guardsman made the remark, he gave a significant shrug of his shoulders, the wounds upon which not being yet quite cicatrised, feelingly reminded him of the rough handling he had received.
“Well then,” said the Quän, “if you will help me to cut some strong stakes, I shall show you a plan by which you may knock old nalle upon the skull without danger to any of us, or send your bullets through his brain, if you like better to kill him in that way.”
All, of course, agreed to the Quän’s proposal; for if the black bear was as he represented him, fiercer than his brown brethren, it would be no pleasant prospect to have him loose among them; and in case of their not being able to shoot him dead on the spot as he rushed out, they might not only be in danger of getting mauled, but in danger of what they dreaded almost as much – losing him altogether. He might get off into the forest; and as there were tracts along the hill-sides, now quite clear of snow, he might steal away from them beyond recovery. This would be a disappointment of no ordinary kind. In fact, it might be the means of keeping them for weeks, or perhaps months, from proceeding on their journey: since it might be weeks or months before they should fall in with another chance of obtaining a black bearskin; and until that was procured they could not turn their faces towards Spain.
With such a prospect then, they were only too ready to agree to any conditions by which the bear might be safely secured.
The Quän was not long in disclosing his plan; and as soon as he had communicated it, all three set to work to aid him in its execution.
A number of stout stakes were cut – each about six feet in length, and pointed at one end. These were driven into the earth around the outer edge of the icy mass, in a sort of semicircular row; and so as to enclose a small space in front of the aperture. To hold the stakes all the more firmly, large stones were piled up against them, and the uprights themselves were closely wattled together by the broad flat branches of the spruce pines that grew near. In this way was constructed a fence that a cat could not have crawled through, much less a bear. One aperture only was left in it, and that was directly in front – a hole at about the height of a man’s knee from the ground, and just big enough to admit the head of a bear – for that was the purpose for which it was intended.
The next thing done was to roof the whole of this stockade enclosure; and that was accomplished by resting long poles horizontally over it, tying them at the ends to the tops of the uprights, and then covering them thickly with granris (the spray lopped from the branches of the evergreen pines).
It now only remained to get the ice cut of the way, and allow the bear to come forth. That would not have been so easy of accomplishment, had it not been already partially removed. Before closing up the top, Pouchskin, directed by the Finnish peasant, had cut away most of the mass, leaving only a shell; which, although filling up the entrance as before, could be easily beaten down, or driven in from the outside of the enclosure.
During the time that the ex-guardsman had been sapping away the ice, he had been keeping a sharp lookout. He was admonished to do this by certain noises that, now and then, came rumbling out of the cave; and not very certain that he was in perfect safety, he had been under some apprehension. The bear, by throwing all his weight against the reduced mass of ice, might break his way out; and as by the constant chiselling the wall grew weaker and thinner, Pouchskin’s fears increased in proportion. He was only too happy, when, having picked the congealed mass to what was thought a sufficient thinness, he desisted from his work, and crept out of the enclosure, through the space that had been kept open for him.
This was now fenced up as securely as the rest; and it only remained to knock away the icy barricade, and tempt Bruin to come forth.
The icy wall could be broken in by means of a long boar-spear with which the Finnish peasant had provided himself. It was headed with a heavy piece of iron, edged and tipped with the best Swedish steel, and this being jobbed against the ice, and kept constantly at work, soon splintered the shell into pieces.
As soon as the Quän saw that he had opened a hole large enough to pass the body of the bear, he drew back his spear, telling the hunter to look out.
During the operation, all three had kept watch through crevices in the stockade-wall, holding their guns pointed towards the aperture, and ready to give the bear a volley the moment he should show his snout.
Chapter Seventeen.
The Spitting-Devil
To their disappointment, however, the bear refused to exhibit even as much as the tip of his nose, not only while his door was being opened, but afterwards; and they began to think that he might not come forth after all.
The Quän assured them that he would be certain to do so in time; but perhaps not for a few hours, till after they should have remained quiet a while, and old nalle should fancy they had gone away.
“He has been a long time without his breakfast,” added the Quän, “and his stomach will now be talking loudly to him; that will tell him to steal out for something to eat. No fear of it, masters!”
“But for what purpose have you designed this hole?” inquired Ivan, pointing to the little aperture that had been left in the wattled enclosure.
“Oh,” replied the peasant, “that is how we kill bears sometimes; especially if we are not rich enough to have a gun. As soon as old nalle rushes out from his den, the first thing he does is to run all round, looking for a chance to break through the fence. Of course he finds the hole, and pokes his head through it. One of us stands outside, as you see me now, with a hatchet ready; and we would be clumsy, indeed, if we could not cleave in his skull, or give him such a crack upon it, as would turn him back downwards. You shall see how the bear will rush to this hole the moment he comes out, and then, masters! you shall see!”
Here the Quän gave a significant shake to his hatchet, twirling it with the dexterity peculiar to his craft, for it so chanced that he was a woodcutter by trade.
Our hunters, however, saw that this would never do. According to the conditions under which they travelled, the bear must be killed by one of themselves; and, therefore, after a little explanation, the Quän resigned his intention and stepped aside. His post, however, was supplied by the ex-guardsman, who, poising his ponderous axe, stood ready to deal a far heavier, and deadlier, blow than could be given by any woodcutter in Scandinavia. Alexis took charge of Pouchskin’s gun, determined to fire it as soon as he had discharged his own rifle; and as Ivan had one barrel loaded with ball and the other with slugs, it was not likely, against such a formidable battery as was thus prepared for him, that Bruin could manage to live much longer.
It now became a question whether they should wait patiently till the bear came out, or whether they might not adopt some mode of tempting him forth, that would act upon him more rapidly than the cravings of his stomach.
There could be no harm in trying to reach and stir him up with a pole; and for this purpose the woodcutter stepped aside to find one.
He very soon succeeded in procuring a long birch sapling – as long as an ordinary fishing-rod; and having cleared this of its spray, he inserted it into the cave. To the gratification of the party it was found long enough for the purpose; for by the muffled feel it could only be Bruin’s fur that its point was buried in. It was just as far, however, as the pole would reach; and as it was a slender sapling without any stiffness in it, they were unable to do anything in the way of giving him a poke. No doubt, had the entrance to his den been wider, even the tickling of the pole would have caused him to “turn out;” for a bear, unless badly wounded, will not stand much badgering. It was possible, in this case, that Bruin suspected there was some trap set for him outside – indeed, the noises he had been listening to for more than an hour, must have admonished him that all was not as it ought to be; and this perhaps rendered him more wary than was his wont. He might not yet be aware that his door was open; for the roofed enclosure still kept out the light as much as the stalagmite had done; and although he might have heard the icy mass giving way before the axe and spear, he might not understand all that. It was necessary, therefore, to coax him as far as the threshold – so that he might discover that the door of his chamber had been opened for him.
The tickling of the pole, however, proved of no service; for, although it drew from the huge brute a sniff or two, he still kept to his bed.
What was to be done? Must they retire, and wait patiently till the calls of hunger should urge him forth? The day was piercingly cold, and to remain there long would have been unpleasant enough. They might, indeed, have to stay by the cave all day and all night too: for the enclosure had been only slightly put up – merely to check the bear for a few minutes – and if they were to leave him all night to himself, he could easily tear down the stakes and get off.
They could not think of deserting the spot for an instant; but to avoid a long vigil they set about considering some plan by which Bruin might be induced to come forth from his inaccessible retreat.
A thought occurred to Ivan, who was a quick conceiver – a plan which promised well – and that was to make a “spitting-devil,” and send it up into the cave. It appeared a good idea – at all events, it would not be difficult to give it a trial. Gunpowder was not scarce with them – since Russian roubles were plenty; and Pouchskin, pouring out nearly a quarter of a pound into the palm of his broad hand, commenced spitting upon it and working the powder into a paste. Ivan, who directed this operation, was determined his plan should not fail by any stinginess in regard to the materials required for carrying it out.
After a short space of time the plastic fingers of Pouchskin had elaborated the powder paste into a roll as large as a regalia cigar; and this being dried slightly near a fire – which they had long before kindled – was ready for the touch. To the old grenadier was intrusted the management of the miniature rocket; and, while the young hunters once more stood to their guns, he proceeded to carry out the design.
Having thrust his head through the hole intended for the bear, and his arm through another which he had made for himself, he held the “devil” at arm’s length between his finger and thumb. The Quän now took a blazing faggot from the fire, and passing it between the wattles, ignited the fuse which the old grenadier had ingeniously placed in the “devil’s” tail.
As soon as Pouchskin perceived that it was fairly on fire, with an adroit jerk he sent the little rocket up into the cave, as far as he could throw it; and then jerking himself backward, he seized hold of his axe.
There was a moment of suspense; not long: for almost on the instant a brilliant light shone within the cave, accompanied with a sputtering and whizzing and cracking, as if half a dozen alarm-clocks had been set going at the same time! In the midst of this confusion of noises, and louder far than any, could be heard a number of sharp wild shrieks, and before the rocket had half burnt out, Bruin was seen bolting forth over the broken fragments of ice. Two shots were fired, almost simultaneously; but both failed to check his onward rush; and with a mighty force he came “bump” against the palisades, causing them to crash and swag as if they would give way. It was fortunate for the hunters that the stakes stood the shock: for such a set of teeth as that bear exhibited they had never before seen. A single stroke from those paws would have been enough to crack the thickest skull in creation.
Ivan gave him his second barrel – the one loaded with slugs, – but it only served to increase his fury; and now rearing up, and then going on all-fours, he kept rushing backward and forward through the enclosure, all the while uttering fierce growls.
Alexis, meanwhile, had dropped his rifle and taken up the fusil of Pouchskin. His place was at one side of the enclosure. He had already got the barrel through the wattles, and was endeavouring to level it upon the bear – seeking for a mortal part at which he might aim. The darkness, however, – for the roofed stockade rendered it dark – combined with the quick movements of the animal, hindered him from getting a sight to his satisfaction. He knew the importance of making this a killing shot. Should the bear, wounded as he now was, retreat back into his den, there would be no chance whatever of getting him out again. Alexis thought of this; and therefore resolved not to fire at random, as he had done before. He knew that a full-grown bear, unless shot in the brain or heart, can accommodate a score of bullets without being much inconvenienced by them.
Knowing this, Alexis was biding his time, when all at once he perceived the bear make halt on the front side of the enclosure. He now aimed at the heart of the huge animal, but before he could pull trigger, a loud crash sounded in his ear, and Bruin was seen dropping to the ground, where he continued to lie, almost without giving a kick!
It was the axe of Pouchskin that had caused the crash, as its edge of steel descended upon the bear’s cranium, smashing it in as if it had been an eggshell. As the Quän predicted, the animal had imprudently poked his head through the aperture where Pouchskin was standing ready for him.
This, of course, finished the affair. It was only necessary to remove the palisades, sling the bear to a tree, and then strip him of his much-coveted skin. All this in due time was accomplished; and with the robe once more packed on the shoulders of Pouchskin, the hunters returned to their headquarters.
It proved – as the Quän had promised them – to be a black bear; not that his fur was altogether black, as is the case with the ursus americanus and the black bears of India. On the contrary, the hair was brown near the roots, and only black at the tips, which, however, gave it the appearance of being black all over the surface; and Alexis knew that this was the variety of bear they were in search of.
Satisfied that they had obtained the skin of the ursus niger, it only remained for our hunters to pack up their travelling traps, bid adieu to the cold climate of Scandinavia, and start for the sunny south – for the far-famed Pyrenees of Spain.
