Since the establishment of the National Park Service in 1916, it has
become increasingly obvious that the occupation of the national parks by
man and wildlife must inevitably result in wildlife problems. The act
creating the National Park Service is specific in its language; it says
that the Service thus established shall promote and regulate the use of
the areas by such means and measures necessary “to conserve the scenery
and the natural and historic objects and the wildlife therein and to
provide for the enjoyment of the same in such manner and by such means
as will leave them unimpaired for the enjoyment of future generations.”
The apparent inconsistency presents itself immediately. Natural features
must be conserved and protected, they must not be impaired, yet
provision must be made for their enjoyment by the millions of visitors
who come to the national parks each year. The course that must be
followed, then, is one of permitting modification of the natural scene
only to the degree required to provide for perpetual enjoyment of “the
scenery, the natural and historic objects and the wildlife.”
The relations between man and the wildlife of the national parks are
complex. Both occupy the parks, with equal rights to that occupancy. It
can scarcely be argued that man is not a part of the natural scene;
certainly there is nothing essentially unnatural in the progress of our
civilization from the dawn of history to the present. In the national
parks, however, the _unimpaired_ values to be preserved are those of the
_primitive natural scene_. Man can strive to maintain these values,
unimpaired, because he has the power of reason. Through that power he
can recognize the effect of his conflict with nature, and so prevent the
destruction of the primitive natural scene by a proper regulation of his
acts.
Specifically, the wildlife problems now readily recognized in Mount
Rainier National Park are those which have developed because of
relations between man and mammals. The deer, bear, and raccoon are
outstanding examples. In the developed areas of the park many of these
animals have become so accustomed to the proximity of man that they no
longer exhibit timidity in his presence. They are essentially “wild”
animals, yet because of close association with man for several wildlife
generations, they may be practically considered as “semi-domestic”
animals.
This “semi-domesticity” is a problem in itself. First, it is not in
keeping with the primitive natural scene. The true wildlife picture is
not one of a deer eating from a visitor’s hand; that is scarcely more
natural than seeing the animal within the fenced enclosure of a zoo. The
artificial feeding of any form of wildlife is objectionable for several
other reasons. Such feeding encourages an unnatural concentration of the
animals in restricted localities, thus increasing the danger of the
spread of any contagious disease or infection. In the case of deer,
feeding affects, often disastrously, the normal habit of migration to
lower elevations in winter. Deer encouraged by feeding to remain at
Longmire, for example, encounter difficult times during the winter
months. Natural forage is buried beneath the snow, migratory routes to
the lowlands are blocked, and starvation is not unusual.
In every instance, experience has shown that when animals are hand-fed,
petted, and tamed, the results have been detrimental to both the animals
and to man. The “tamed” animals are often dangerous, or may become so.
Even the harmless appearing deer may, and do, inflict severe injuries by
striking with the fore feet or hooking with the antlers, and bears often
strike or bite, once they have lost their instinctive fear of man. When
any animal becomes dangerous, the only solutions are to eliminate the
danger by killing the animal, or to live-trap and remove it to a more
isolated section of the park. The latter is often a temporary expedient
because the animal is likely to return almost at once to its original
home.
[Illustration: “Semi-domestic” bears may become unruly. Such animals
must be live-trapped and removed to isolated sections of the park. A
wary bruin is often suspicious of the trap.]
That many park visitors are entirely unaware of the concept of
presenting wildlife in its natural setting is exemplified by the man who
dashed excitedly into the Chief Ranger’s office and breathlessly
exclaimed, “Hey, one of your bears is loose!” Park animals are not “zoo
animals.” They have simply adapted themselves to man’s presence, and
although their habits have been materially changed in many instances,
they retain the wild instinct to fight when cornered, to strike back
against a real or fancied danger, to quarrel with anything which seeks
to rob them of food. It seems hardly necessary to emphasize the futility
of attempting to argue the right to possession of a choice morsel with a
three-hundred-pound bear.
Bears are often condemned as nuisances because they rob the camper’s
food cache, even to the extent of forcing open locked cupboards or
entering automobiles. Raccoons may make a shambles of food stores, if
the larder is left unprotected. That these things are nuisances is true,
but had the animals not been encouraged to expect food, it is unlikely
that they would go to such lengths to obtain it. The original approach
was undoubtedly made by man, not by the animal, and man has little
reason to condemn, under the circumstances. The sad sequence, however,
is that it is all too often the unsuspecting innocent who suffers. One
party entices a bear into camp today, feeds the animal, and moves on.
Tomorrow another camper receives a rude shock when bruin moves in and
appropriates his food supply.
It appears then, that these wildlife problems, which have developed
through man’s influence upon the animals, have been brought about by
man’s failure to employ his power of reason, his failure to recognize
the effect he may have upon the natural scene. Indeed, it would seem, in
many instances, that man is the problem, not the animals. They have
adapted themselves to a condition at variance with their nature; man has
failed to do so.
These problems, and others which are similar, are not impossible of
solution. Of the many phases of wildlife management that are a part of
the adjustments to be made in our relations with the animals of the
parks, these of living together must be approached by our recognition of
the need for such adjustment. The late George M. Wright has well
expressed the goal to be attained:
“These problems are of such magnitude that some observers have
concluded that only the childish idealist, pathetically blind to the
practical obstacles, would attempt to accomplish the thing. There are
others who believe the effort is warranted. Much of man’s genuine
progress is dependent upon the degree to which he is capable of this
sort of control. If we destroy nature blindly, it is a boomerang which
will be our undoing.
“Consecration to the task of adjusting ourselves to natural
environment so that we secure the best values from nature without
destroying it is not useless idealism; it is good hygiene for
civilization.
“In this lies the true portent of this national parks effort. Fifty
years from now we shall still be wrestling with the problems of joint
occupation of national parks by men and mammals, but it is reasonable
to predict that we shall have mastered some of the simplest
maladjustments. It is far better to pursue such a course though
success be but partial than to relax in despair and allow the
destructive forces to operate unchecked.”