Previous to starting forth in search of the Kamschatkan bear, our
hunters collected all the particulars they could in regard to the haunts
and habits of this animal.
They learnt that there were at least two varieties known to the Kurilski
and Koriac hunters. One of them was the more common kind--a brown bear,
closely resembling the _ursus arctos_; and the other also a brown bear;
but with a whitish list running up from the under part of his throat,
and meeting like a collar over the tops of his shoulders. This latter
kind was undoubtedly the species known as the "Siberian bear" (_ursus
collaris_); and which has an extensive range throughout most of the
countries of Northern Asia. The native hunters alleged that the two
kinds were of nearly similar habits. Both went to sleep during the
winter--concealing themselves cunningly in caves and crevices among
rocks, or among fallen timber, where such could be found in sufficient
quantity to afford them shelter.
One remarkable habit of these bears indicates a very marked difference
between them and the _ursus arctos_, with which they have been usually
classed; and that is, that they are _fishing-bears_--subsisting almost
exclusively on fish, which they catch for themselves. During their
winter sleep, of course they eat nothing; but in spring, as soon as they
emerge from their retreats, they at once betake themselves to the
numerous streams and lakes, with which the country abounds; and roaming
along the banks of these, or wading in the water itself, they spend the
whole of their time in angling about after trout and salmon. There,
fish, thanks to their immense numbers, and the shallowness of the water
in most of the lakes and streams, the bears are enabled to catch almost
at discretion. They wade into the water, and getting among the shoals
of the fish as they are passing to and fro, strike them dead with their
paws. The fish are killed as instantaneously as if impaled upon a
fishing spear; and in such numbers do the bears capture them, at certain
seasons, that the captors grow dainty, and only eat a portion of each
fish! They show a strange preference for that part, which is usually
considered refuse, the head,--leaving the tail, with a considerable
portion of the body, untouched. The rejected portions, however, are not
lost; for another animal, still hungrier than the bears, and less
skilful in the piscatory art, is at this time also in search of a meal
of fish.
This creature is the Kamschatkan dog--not a wild species, as you may
suppose, but the trained sledge-dogs of the Kamschatdales themselves;
which at this season forsake the "ostrogs," or villages, and betake
themselves to the borders of the lakes and rivers. There they remain
during the whole period of summer, feeding upon fish--which they also
know how to capture--and eating up such portions as have been refused by
the bears. In fact, this is the only food which these poor dogs can
get; and, as they are not needed during the summer season, they do not
think of returning home until frost sets in. Then, strange to say, one
and all of them go voluntarily back, and surrender themselves up to
their old masters--hard taskmasters too, who not only work them like
slaves, but half starve them throughout the whole winter. This
voluntary submission to their "yoke" has been quoted as an illustration
of the high training and faithful disposition of the Kamschatkan dogs;
but it has its origin in a fur different motive than that of mere
fidelity. Their return to the snug shelter of the _balagan_ is simply
an instinct of self-preservation: for the sagacious animals well know,
that in winter the lakes and streams will be completely frozen over, and
were they to remain abroad, they would absolutely perish either from
hunger or cold. Even the wretched winter allowance of heads and
entrails of fish--the only crumbs that fall to their share--is better
than nothing at all; which would be their portion were they to remain
abroad among the bare snow-clad hills and valleys of Kamschatka. The
Kamschatdales have various modes of taking the bear. In early winter
they sometimes find his track in the snow; and then pursue him with a
gun and a bear-spear, killing him as they best can. Later still, when
he has gone to sleep in his den, he is often found--by similar
indications as those which guide the Laplanders, North American Indians,
and Esquimaux--such as the hoar caused by his breath showing over the
spot, or by their hunting-dogs scenting him out, and barking at the
entrance. The log-trap, or dead-fall, is also in use among the
Kamschatkan hunters; and the penn formed around the mouth of the bear's
cave, shutting him up, until an entrance can be dug into it from above.
In the summer time the mode is different. Then the hunter lies in
ambush, with his loaded rifle--for the Kamschatdale carries this
weapon--in such places as he expects the bear to pass. These are on the
banks of the streams and lakes that abound in fish; and as the bears
ramble along the edge of the water, or are even seen swimming or wading
into it, the patient hunter is pretty sure of getting a shot. Should he
fail to bring down Bruin at the first fire, the game becomes uncertain;
and sometimes dangerous: since the animal often charges upon the hunter.
Even though the latter may be concealed among the long reeds and
bushes, the sagacious bear, guided by the smoke and blaze of the powder
easily finds out his assailant. The hunter, however, never fires
without taking a deliberate aim. He carries a forked stick, over which
he rests his piece, and never fires off-hand. To miss would not only
endanger his life and the loss of his game, but what is also of
consequence to a Kamschatdale, the loss of his powder and bullet--costly
articles in this remote corner of the earth. In case of missing, he has
still his bear-spear and a long-bladed knife to fall back upon; and with
these he defends himself as well as he can--though not unfrequently
Bruin proves the victor, and the hunter the victim.
There are certain times when the Siberian bears become exceedingly
dangerous to approach. The season of rut--which occurs in the latter
part of the summer--is one of those; but there is another period of
danger--which, however, does not happen every year. When the spring
chances to be late--on account of a prolonged winter--and when the lakes
and streams remain frozen over, after the bears have come forth from
their hiding-places, then "ware Bruin" is a caution which it is prudent
to observe. The fierce animals, half-famished for want of their usual
diet of fish, roam over the country in all directions; and fearlessly
approach the "ostrogs," roaming around the balagans and jourts in search
of something to eat. Woe to the Kamschatdale that gets in their tray at
such a time--for the bear, instead of waiting to be attached, becomes
himself the assailant; and, as great numbers of these quadrupeds often
troop about together, of course the encounter is all the more perilous.
It was just in such a spring that our young hunters had arrived at
Petropaulouski; and stories of numerous bear conflicts, that had
recently occurred in the neighbourhood, were rife in the village; while
the number of fresh skies every day brought in by the Kurilski hunters,
showed that bears could not be otherwise than plentiful in the country
adjacent.
Guided by one of these hunters, our party set forth upon a search. The
snow still covered the ground; and, of course, they travelled in
sledges--each having one to himself, drawn by five dogs, as is the
custom of the country. The dogs are harnessed two and two abreast, with
the odd one in front. Each has his collar of bearskin, with a leather
thong for a trace; and five of them are sufficient to draw the little
sledge with a man in it. The sledge, called _saunka_, is less than four
feet long; and, being made of the lightest birch wood, is of very little
weight.
A curved stick, called the _oschtol_--with an iron point, and little
bells at the other end--is used to direct the dogs; and, urged on by
this and by well-known exclamations of their driver, they will go at a
speed of many miles an hour.
In this slight vehicle, hills, valleys, lakes, and rivers are crossed,
without such a thing as a road being thought of; and when the dogs are
good, and have been well cared for, an immense distance may be passed
over in a day.
In less than an hour after their departure from Petropaulouski, our
hunters had entered amid the wildest scenery--where not the slightest
sign of either cultivation or human habitation was to be seen, and where
at any moment they might expect to come in sight of their great game.