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The Hunters' Feast: Conversations Around the Camp Fire
“We both saw this; and each knew the feelings of the other, for we felt alike. Neither spoke; but, crouching down and holding the gunwales of the canoe, we awaited the awful moment.
“The bear seemed to have some apprehension as well as ourselves; for, instead of continuing his endeavours to climb into the canoe, he contented himself with holding fast to the stern, evidently under some alarm.
“The torch still blazed, and the canoe was catching fire; perhaps this it was that alarmed the bear.
“The last circumstance gave us at the moment but little concern; the greater danger eclipsed the less. We had hardly noticed it, when we felt that we were going over!
“The canoe shot outward as if propelled by some projectile force; then came a loud crash, as though we had dropped upon a hard rock. Water, and spray, and froth were dashed over our bodies; and the next moment, to our surprise as well as delight, we felt ourselves still alive, and seated in the canoe, which was floating gently in still smooth water.
“It was quite dark, for the torch had been extinguished; but even in the darkness we could perceive the bear swimming and floundering near the boat. To our great satisfaction, we saw him heading for the shore, and widening the distance between himself and us with all the haste he could make. The unexpected precipitation over the falls had cooled his courage, if not his hostility.
“Dick and I headed the canoe, now half full of water, for the opposite bank, which we contrived to reach by using the rifle and our hands for paddles. Here we made the little vessel fast to a tree, intending to leave it there, as we could not by any possibility get it back over the fall. Having hung our game out of reach of the wolves, we turned our faces up-stream, and, after a long and wearisome walk, succeeded in getting back to the post.
“Next morning, a party went down for the venison, with the intention also of carrying the canoe back over the fall. The craft, however, was found to be so much injured, that it would not hang together during the portage, and was therefore abandoned. This was no pleasant matter to me, for it afterwards cost me a considerable sum before I could square with the old Flathead for his worthless dug-out.”
Chapter Twenty Five.
Old Ike and the Grizzly
A – ’s adventure ending in a grizzly bear story, drew the conversation upon that celebrated animal, and we listened to the many curious facts related about it, with more than usual interest.
The grizzly bear (Ursus ferox) is, beyond all question, the most formidable of the wild creatures inhabiting the continent of America – jaguar and cougar not excepted. Did he possess the swiftness of foot of either the lion or tiger of the Old World, he would be an assailant as dangerous as either; for he is endowed with the strength of the former, and quite equals the latter in ferocity. Fortunately, the horse outruns him; were it not so, many a human victim would be his, for he can easily overtake a man on foot. As it is, hundreds of well-authenticated stories attest the prowess of this fierce creature. There is not a “mountain-man” in America who cannot relate a string of perilous adventures about the “grizzly bar;” and the instances are far from being few, in which human life has been sacrificed in conflicts with this savage beast.
The grizzly bear is an animal of large dimensions; specimens have been killed and measured quite equal to the largest size of the polar bear, though there is much variety in the sizes of different individuals. About 500 pounds might be taken as the average weight.
In shape, the grizzly bear is a much more compact animal than either the black or polar species: his ears are larger, his arms stouter, and his aspect fiercer. His teeth are sharp and strong; but that which his enemies most dread is the armature of his paws. The paws themselves are so large, as frequently to leave in the mud a track of twelve inches in length, by eight in breadth; and from the extremities of these formidable fists protrude horn-like claws full six inches long! Of course, we are speaking of individuals of the largest size.
These claws are crescent-shaped, and would be still longer, but in all cases nearly an inch is worn from their points.
The animal digs up the ground in search of marmots, burrowing squirrels, and various esculent roots; and this habit accounts for the blunted condition of his claws. They are sharp enough, notwithstanding, to peel the hide from a horse or buffalo, or to drag the scalp from a hunter – a feat which has been performed by grizzly bears on more than one occasion.
The colour of this animal is most generally brownish, with white hairs intermixed, giving that greyish or grizzled appearance – whence the trivial name, grizzly. But although this is the most common colour of the species, there are many varieties. Some are almost white, others yellowish red, and still others nearly black. The season, too, has much to do with the colour; and the pelage is shaggier and longer than that of the Ursus Americanus. The eyes are small in proportion to the size of the animal, but dark and piercing.
The geographical range of the grizzly bear is extensive. It is well-known that the great chain of the Rocky Mountains commences on the shores of the Arctic Ocean, and runs southwardly through the North-American continent. In those mountains, the grizzly bear is found, from their northern extremity, at least as far as that point where the Rio Grande makes its great bend towards the Gulf of Mexico.
In the United States and Canada, this animal has never been seen in a wild state. This is not strange. The grizzly bear has no affinity with the forest. Previous to the settling of these territories, they were all forest-covered. The grizzly is rarely found under heavy timber, like his congener the black bear; and, unlike the latter, he is not a tree-climber. The black bear “hugs” himself up a tree, and usually destroys his victim by compression. The grizzly does not possess this power, so as to enable him to ascend a tree-trunk; and for such a purpose, his huge dull claws are worse than useless. His favourite haunts are the thickets of Corylus rubus, and Amelanchiers, under the shade of which he makes his lair, and upon the berries of which he partially subsists. He lives much by the banks of streams, hunting among the willows, or wanders along the steep and rugged bluffs, where scrubby pine and dwarf cedar (Juniperus prostrata), with its rooting branches, forms an almost impenetrable underwood. In short, the grizzly bear of America is to be met with in situations very similar to those which are the favourite haunts of the African lion, which, after all, is not so much the king of the forest, as of the mountain and the open plain.
The grizzly bear is omnivorous. Fish, flesh, and fowl are eaten by him apparently with equal relish. He devours frogs, lizards, and other reptiles.
He is fond of the larvae of insects; these are often found in large quantities adhering to the under sides of decayed logs. To get at them, the grizzly bear will roll over logs of such size and weight, as would try the strength of a yoke of oxen.
He can “root” like a hog, and will often plough up acres of prairie in search of the wapatoo and Indian turnip. Like the black bear, he is fond of sweets; and the wild-berries, consisting of many species of currant, gooseberry, and service berry, are greedily gathered into his capacious maw.
He is too slow of foot to overtake either buffalo, elk, or deer, though he sometimes comes upon these creatures unawares; and he will drag the largest buffalo to the earth, if he can only get his claws upon it.
Not unfrequently he robs the panther of his repast, and will drive a whole pack of wolves from the carrion they have just succeeded in killing.
Several attempts have been made to raise the young grizzlies, but these have all been abortive, the animals proving anything but agreeable pets. As soon as grown to a considerable size, their natural ferocity displays itself, and their dangerous qualities usually lead to the necessity for their destruction.
For a long time the great polar bear has been the most celebrated animal of his kind; and most of the bear-adventures have related to him. Many a wondrous tale of his prowess and ferocity has been told by the whaler and arctic voyager, in which this creature figures as the hero. His fame, however, is likely to be eclipsed by his hitherto less-known congener – the grizzly. The golden lure which has drawn half the world to California, has also been the means of bringing this fierce animal more into notice; for the mountain-valleys of the Sierra Nevada are a favourite range of the species. Besides, numerous “bear scrapes” have occurred to the migrating bands who have crossed the great plains and desert tracts that stretch from the Mississippi to the shores of the South Sea. Hundreds of stories of this animal, more or less true, have of late attained circulation through the columns of the press and the pages of the traveller’s note-book, until the grizzly bear is becoming almost as much an object of interest as the elephant, the hippopotamus, or the king of beasts himself.
Speaking seriously, he is a dangerous assailant. White hunters never attack him unless when mounted and well armed; and the Indians consider the killing a grizzly bear a feat equal to the scalping of a human foe. These never attempt to hunt him, unless when a large party is together; and the hunt is, among some tribes, preceded by a ceremonious feast and a bear-dance.
It is often the lot of the solitary trapper to meet with this four-footed enemy, and the encounter is rated as equal to that with two hostile Indians.
Of course, both Redwood and old Ike had met with more than one “bar scrape,” and the latter was induced to relate one of his best.
“Strengers,” began he, “when you scare up a grizzly, take my advice, and gie ’im a wide berth – that is, unless yur unkimmun well mounted. Ov coorse, ef yur critter kin be depended upon, an’ thur’s no brush to ’tangle him, yur safe enuf; as no grizzly, as ever I seed, kin catch up wi’ a hoss, whur the ground’s open an’ clur. F’r all that, whur the timmer’s clost an’ brushy, an’ the ground o’ that sort whur a hoss mout stummel, it are allers the safest plan to let ole Eph’m slide. I’ve seed a grizzly pull down as good a hoss as ever tracked a parairy, whur the critter hed got bothered in a thicket. The fellur that straddled him only saved himself by hookin’ on to the limb o’ a tree. ’Twant two minnits afore this child kim up – hearin’ the rumpus. I hed good sight o’ the bar, an’ sent a bullet – sixty to the pound – into the varmint’s brain-pan, when he immediately cawalloped over. But ’twur too late to save the hoss. He wur rubbed out. The bar had half skinned him, an’ wur tarrin’ at his guts! Wagh!”
Here the trapper unsheathed his clasp-knife, and having cut a “chunk” from a plug of real “Jeemes’s River,” stuck it into his cheek, and proceeded with his narration.
“I reck’n, I’ve seed a putty consid’able o’ the grizzly bar in my time. Ef them thur chaps who writes about all sorts o’ varmint hed seed as much o’ the grizzly as I hev, they mout a gin a hul book consarnin’ the critter. Ef I hed a plug o’ bacca for every grizzly I’ve rubbed out, it ’ud keep my jaws waggin’ for a good twel’month, I reck’n. Ye-es, strengers, I’ve done some bar-killin’ – I hev that, an’ no mistake! Hain’t I, Mark?
“Wal, I wur a-gwine to tell you ov a sarcumstance that happened to this child about two yeern ago. It wur upon the Platte, atween Chimbly Rock an’ Laramies’.
“I wur engaged as hunter an’ guide to a carryvan o’ emigrant folks that wur on thur way to Oregon.
“Ov coorse I allers kept ahead o’ the carryvan, an’ picked the place for thur camp.
“Wal, one arternoon I hed halted whur I seed some timmer, which ur a scace article about Chimbly Rock. This, thort I, ’ll do for campin’-ground; so I got down, pulled the saddle off o’ my ole mar, an’ staked the critter upon the best patch o’ grass that wur near, intendin’ she shed hev her gut-full afore the camp cattle kim up to bother her.
“I hed shot a black-tail buck, an’ after kindlin’ a fire, I roasted a griskin’ o’ him, an’ ate it.
“Still thur wan’t no sign o’ the carryvan, an’ arter hangin’ the buck out o’ reach o’ the wolves, I tuk up my rifle, an’ set out to rackynoiter the neighbourhood.
“My mar bein’ some’at jaded, I let her graze away, an’ went afoot; an’ that, let me tell you, strengers, ar about the foolichest thing you kin do upon a parairy. I wan’t long afore I proved it; but I’ll kum to that by ’m by.
“Wal, I fust clomb a conside’able hill, that gin me a view beyont. Thur war a good-sized parairy layin’ torst the south an’ west. Thur wur no trees ’ceptin’ an odd cotton-wood hyur an’ thur on the hillside.
“About a mile off I seed a flock of goats – what you’d call antelopes, though goats they ur, as sure as goats is goats.
“Thur waunt no kiver near them – not a stick, for the parairy wur as bar as yur hand; so I seed, at a glimp, it ’ud be no use a tryin’ to approach, unless I tuk some plan to decoy the critters.
“I soon thort o’ a dodge, an’ went back to camp for my blanket, which wur a red Mackinaw. This I knew ’ud be the very thing to fool the goats with, an’ I set out torst them.
“For the fust half-a-mile or so, I carried the blanket under my arm. Then I spread it out, an’ walked behind it until I wur ’ithin three or four hundred yards o’ the animals. I kept my eye on ’em through a hole in the blanket. They wur a-growin’ scary, an’ hed begun to run about in circles; so when I seed this, I knew it wur time to stop.
“Wal, I hunkered down, an’ still keepin’ the blanket spread out afore me, I hung it upon a saplin’ that I had brought from the camp. I then stuck the saplin’ upright in the ground; an’ mind ye, it wan’t so easy to do that, for the parairy wur hard friz, an’ I hed to dig a hole wi’ my knife. Howsomdever, I got the thing rigged at last, an’ the blanket hangin’ up in front kivered my karkidge most complete. I hed nothin’ more to do but wait till the goats shed come ’ithin range o’ my shootin’-iron.
“Wal, that wan’t long. As ye all know, them goats is a mighty curious animal – as curious as weemen is – an arter runnin’ backward an’ forrard a bit, an’ tossin’ up thur heads, an’ sniffin’ the air, one o’ the fattest, a young prong-horn buck, trotted up ’ithin fifty yards o’ me.
“I jest squinted through the sights, an’ afore that goat hed time to wink twice, I hit him plum atween the eyes. Ov coorse he wur throwed in his tracks.
“Now, you’d a-jumped up, an’ frightened the rest away – that’s what you’d a done, strengers. But you see I knowd better. I knowd that so long’s the critters didn’t see my karkidge, they wan’t a-gwine to mind the crack o’ the gun. So I laid still, in behopes to git a wheen more o’ them.
“As I hed calc’lated at fust, they didn’t run away, an’ I slipped in my charge as brisk as possible. But jest as I wur raisin’ to take sight on a doe that hed got near enough, the hull gang tuk scare, an’ broke off as ef a pack of parairy-wolves wur arter ’em.
“I wur clean puzzled at this, for I knowd I hedn’t done anythin’ to frighten ’em, but I wan’t long afore I diskivered the pause o’ thur alarm. Jest then I heerd a snift, like the coughin’ o’ a glandered hoss; an’ turnin’ suddintly round, I spied the biggest bar it hed ever been my luck to set eyes on. He wur comin’ direct torst me, an’ at that minnit wan’t over twenty yards from whur I lay. I knowd at a glimp he wur a grizzly!
“’Tain’t no use to say I wan’t skeart; I wur skeart, an’ mighty bad skeart, I tell ye.
“At fust, I thort o’ jumpin’ to my feet, an’ makin’ tracks; but a minnit o’ reflexshun showed me that ’ud be o’ little use. Thur wur a half o’ mile o’ clur parairy on every side o’ me, an’ I knowd the grizzly laid catch up afore I hed made three hundred yards in any direction. I knowd, too, that ef I started, the varmint ’ud be sartin to foller. It wur plain to see the bar meant mischief; I kud tell that from the glint o’ his eyes.
“Thur wan’t no time to lose in thinkin’ about it. The brute wur still comin’ nearer; but I noticed that he wur a-gwine slower an’ slower, every now an’ agin risin’ to his hind-feet, clawin’ his nose, an’ sniffin’ the air.
“I seed that it wur the red blanket that puzzled him; an’ seein’ this, I crep’ closter behint it, an’ cached as much o’ my karkidge as it ’ud kiver.
“When the bar hed got ’ithin about ten yards o’ the spot, he kim to a full stop, an’ reared up as he hed did several times, with his belly full torst me. The sight wur too much for this niggur, who never afore had been bullied by eyther Injun or bar.
“’Twur a beautiful shot, an’ I kudn’t help tryin’ it, ef ’t hed been my last; so I poked my rifle through the hole in the blanket, an’ sent a bullet atween the varmint’s ribs.
“That wur, perhaps, the foolichest an’ wust shot this child ever made. Hed I not fired it, the bar mout a gone off, feard o’ the blanket; but I did fire, an’ my narves bein’ excited, I made a bad shot.
“I had ta’en sight for the heart, an’ I only hit the varmint’s shoulder.
“Ov coorse, the bar bein’ now wounded, bekim savage, and cared no longer for the blanket. He roared out like a bull, tore at the place whur I hed hit him, an’ then kim on as fast as his four legs ’ud carry him.
“Things looked squally. I throwed away my emp’y gun, an’ drawed my bowie, expectin’ nothin’ else than a regular stand-up tussle wi’ the bar. I knowd it wur no use turnin’ tail now; so I braced myself up for a desp’rate fight.
“But jest as the bar hed got ’ithin ten feet o’ me, an idee suddintly kim into my head. I hed been to Santa Fé, among them yaller-hided Mexikins, whur I hed seed two or three bull-fights. I hed seed them mattydoors fling thur red cloaks over a bull’s head, jest when you’d a thort they wur a-gwine to be gored to pieces on the fierce critter’s horns.
“Jest then, I remembered thur trick; an’ afore the bar cud close on me, I grabbed the blanket, spreadin’ it out as I tuk holt.
“Strangers, that wur a blanket an’ no mistake! It wur as fine a five-point Mackinaw as ever kivered the hump-ribs o’ a nor’-west trader. I used to wear it Mexikin-fashun when it rained; an’ in coorse, for that purpose, thur wur a hole in the middle to pass the head through.
“Wal, jest as the bar sprung at me, I flopped the blanket straight in his face. I seed his snout a passin’ through the hole, but I seed no more; for I feeled the critter’s claws touchin’ me, an’ I let go.
“Now, thunk I, wur my time for a run. The blanket mout blin’ him a leetle, an’ I mout git some start.
“With this thort, I glid past the animal’s rump, an’ struck out over the parairy.
“The direction happened to be that that led torst the camp, half a mile off; but thur wur a tree nearer, on the side o’ the hill. Ef I kud reach that, I knowd I ’ud be safe enuf, as the grizzly bar it don’t climb.
“For the fust hundred yards I never looked round; then I only squinted back, runnin’ all the while.
“I kud jest see that the bar appeared to be still a tossin’ the blanket, and not fur from whur we hed parted kumpny.
“I thort this some’at odd; but I didn’t stay to see what it meant till I hed put another hundred yards atween us. Then I half turned, an’ tuk a good look; an’ if you believe me, strangers, the sight I seed thur ’ud a made a Mormon larf. Although jest one minnit afore, I wur putty nigh skeart out o’ my seven senses, that sight made me larf till I wur like to bring on a colic.
“Thur wur the bar wi’ his head right a-through the blanket. One minnit, he ’ud rear up on his hind-feet, an’ then the thing hung roun’ him like a Mexikin greaser. The next minnit, he ’ud be down on all-fours, an’ tryin’ to foller me; an’ then the Mackinaw ’ud trip him up, an’ over he ’ud whammel, and kick to get free – all the while routin’ like a mad buffalo. Jehosophat! it wur the funniest sight this child ever seed. Wagh!
“Wal, I watched the game awhile – only a leetle while; for I knowd that if the bar could git clur o’ the rag, he mout still overtake me, an’ drive me to the tree. That I didn’t wan’t, eyther, so I tuk to my heels agin’ and soon reached camp.
“Thur I saddled my mar, an’ then rid back to git my gun, an’, perhaps, to give ole Eph’m a fresh taste o’ lead.
“When I clomb the hill agin, the bar wur still out on the parairy, an’ I cud see that the blanket wur a-hanging around ’im. Howsomdever, he wur makin’ off torst the hills, thinkin’, maybe, he’d hed enuf o’ my kumpny.
“I wan’t a-gwine to let ’im off so easy, for the skear he hed ’gin me; besides, he wur traillin’ my Mackinaw along wi’ ’im. So I galluped to whur my gun lay, an’ havin’ rammed home a ball, I then galluped arter ole grizzly.
“I soon overhauled him, an’ he turned on me as savagerous as ever. But this time, feeling secure on the mar’s back, my narves wur steadier; an’ I shot the bar plum through the skull, which throwed him in his tracks wi’ the blanket wropped about ’im.
“But sich a blanket as that wur then – ay, sich a blanket! I never seed sich a blanket! Thur wunt a square foot o’ it that wan’t torn to raggles. Ah, strangers, you don’t know what it are to lose a five-point Mackinaw; no, that you don’t. Cuss the bar!”
