extinct. The campaign of Mr. J. A. McGuire, Editor of _Outdoor
Life_ Magazine, to secure laws for the reasonable protection of
bears, is wise, timely and thoroughly deserving of success because
such laws are now needed. The bag limit on grizzlies this side of
Alaska should be one per year, and no trapping of grizzlies should
be permitted anywhere.
The big brown bears of Alaska have not yet recognized the true
deadliness of man. They have vanquished so many Indians, and
injured or killed so many white men that as yet they are unafraid,
insolent, aggressive and dangerous. They need to be shot up so
thoroughly that they will learn the lesson of the polars and
grizzlies,--that man is a dangerous animal, and the only safe
course is to run from him at first sight.
Bears Learn the Principles of Wild Life Protection. Ordinarily
both the grizzlies and black bears are shy, suspicious and
intensely "wild" creatures; and therefore the quickness and
thoroughness with which they learn that they are in sanctuary is
all the more surprising. The protected bears of the Yellowstone
Park for years have been to tourists a source of wonder and
delight. The black bears are recklessly trustful, and familiar
quite to the utmost limits. The grizzlies are more reserved, but
they have done what the blacks have very wisely not done. They
have broken the truce of protection, and attacked men on their
own ground.
Strange to say, of several attacks made upon camping parties, the
most serious and most nearly fatal was that of 1917 upon Ned
Frost, the well-known guide of Cody, Wyoming, and his field
companion. They were sleeping under their wagon, well wrapped from
the cold in heavy blankets and comfortables, and it is to their
bedding alone that they owe their lives. They were viciously
attacked by a grizzly, dragged about and mauled, and Frost was
seriously bitten and clawed. Fortunately the bedding engaged the
activities of their assailant sufficiently that the two men
finally escaped alive.
How Buffalo Jones Disciplined a Bad Grizzly. The most ridiculous
and laughable performance ever put up with a wild grizzly bear as
an actor was staged by Col. C. J.("Buffalo") Jones when he was
superintendent of the wild animals of the Yellowstone Park. He
marked down for punishment a particularly troublesome grizzly that
had often raided tourists' camps at a certain spot, to steal food.
Very skilfully he roped that grizzly around one of his hind legs,
suspended him from the limb of a tree, and while the disgraced and
outraged silver-tip swung to and fro, bawling, cursing, snapping,
snorting and wildly clawing at the air, Buffalo Jones whaled it
with a bean-pole until he was tired. With commendable forethought
Mr. Jones had for that occasion provided a moving-picture camera,
and this film always produces roars of laughter.
Now, here is where we guessed wrongly. We supposed that whenever
and wherever a well-beaten grizzly was turned loose, the angry
animal would attack the lynching party. But not so. When Mr.
Jones' chastened grizzly was turned loose, it thought not of
reprisals. It wildly fled to the tall timber, plunged into it, and
there turned over a new leaf. I once said: "C. J., you ought to shoot
some of those grizzlies, and teach all the rest of them to behave
themselves."
[Illustration with caption: WILD
BEARS QUICKLY RECOGNIZE PROTECTION The truce of the black bears of
the Yellowstone Park. The grizzlies are not nearly so trustful.
Photographed by Edmund Heller, 1921. (All rights reserved.)]
"I know it!" he responded, "I know it! But Col. Anderson won't let
me: He says that if we did, some people would make a great fuss
about it; and I suppose they would."
Recently, however, it has been found imperatively necessary to
teach the Park grizzlies a few lessons on the sanctity of a
sanctuary, and the rights of man.
We will now record a few cases that serve to illustrate the mental
traits of bears.
Case I. The Steel Panel. Two huge male Alaskan brown bears, Ivan
and Admiral, lived in adjoining yards. The partition between them
consisted of panels of steel. The upper panels were of heavy bar
iron. The bottom panels, each four feet high and six feet long,
were of flat steel bars woven into a basket pattern. The ends of
these flat bars had been passed through narrow slots in the heavy
steel frame, and firmly clinched. We would have said that no land
animal smaller than an elephant could pull out one of those
panels.
By some strange aberration in management, one day it chanced that
Admiral's grizzly bear wife was introduced for a brief space into
Ivan's den. Immediately Admiral went into a rage, on the ground
that his constitutional rights had been infringed. At once he set
to work to recover his stolen companion. He began to test those
partition panels, one by one. Finally he found the one that seemed
to him least powerful, and he at once set to work to tear it out
of its frame.
The keepers knew that he could not succeed; but he thought
differently. Hooking his short but very powerful claws into the
meshes he braced backward and pulled. After a fierce struggle an
upper corner yielded. Then the other corner yielded; and at last
the whole upper line gave way.
I reached the scene just as he finished tearing both ends free. I
saw him bend the steel panel inward, crush it down with his
thousand pounds of weight, and dash through the yawning hole into
his rival's arena.
Then ensued a great battle. The two huge bears rose high on their
hind legs, fiercely struck out with their front paws, and fought
mouth to mouth, always aiming to grip the throat. They bit each
other's cheeks but no serious injuries were inflicted, and very
soon by the vigorous use of pick-handles the two bear keepers
drove the fighters apart.
Case 2. Ivan's Begging Scheme. Ivan came from Alaska when a small
cub and he has long been the star boarder at the Bear Dens. He is
the most good-natured bear that we have, and he has many thoughts.
Having observed the high arm motion that a keeper makes in
throwing loaves of bread over the top of the nine-foot cage work,
Ivan adopted that motion as part of his sign language when food is
in sight outside. He stands up high, like a man, and with his left
arm he motions, just as the keepers do. Again and again he waves
his mighty arm, coaxingly, suggestively, and it says as plain as
print: "Come on! Throw it in! Throw it!"
If there is too much delay in the response, he motions with his
right paw, also, both arms working together. It is irresistible.
At least 500 times has he thus appealed, and he will do it
whenever a loaf of bread is held up as the price of an exhibition
of his sign language. Of course Ivan thought this out himself, and
put it into practice for a very definite purpose.
Case 3. Ivan's Invention for Cracking Beef Bones. Ivan invented a
scheme for cracking large beef bones, to get at the ultimate
morsels of marrow. He stands erect on his hind feet, first holds
the picked bone against his breast, then with his right paw he
poises it very carefully upon the back of his left paw. When it is
well balanced he flings it about ten feet straight up into the
air. When it falls upon the concrete floor a sufficient number of
times it breaks, and Ivan gets his well-earned reward. This same
plan was pursued by Billy, another Alaskan brown bear. Case 4. A
Bear's Ingenious Use of a Door. When Admiral is annoyed and chased
disagreeably by either of his two cage-mates he runs into his
sleeping-den, slams the steel door shut from the inside, and thus
holds his tormentors completely at bay until it suits him to roll
the door back again and come out. At night in winter when he goes
to bed he almost always shuts the door tightly from within, and
keeps it closed all night. He does not believe in sleeping-
porches, nor wide-open windows in sleeping-quarters.
Case 5. Admiral Will Not Tolerate White Boots. Recently our bear
keepers have found that Admiral has violent objections to boots of
white rubber. Keeper Schmidt purchased a pair, to take the place
of his old black ones, but when he first wore them into the den
for washing the floor the bear flew at him so quickly and so
savagely that he had all he could do to make a safe exit. A second
trial having resulted similarly, he gave the boots a coat of black
paint. But one coat was not wholly satisfactory to Admiral. He saw
the hated white through the one coat of black, promptly registered
"disapproval," and the patient keeper was forced to add another
coat of black. After that the new boots were approved.
Case 6. The Mystery of Death. Once upon a time we had a Japanese
black bear named Jappie, quartered in a den with a Himalayan black
bear,--the species with long, black side-whiskers and a white tip
to its chin. The Japanese bear was about one-third smaller than
the Himalayan black.
One night the Japanese bear died, and in the morning the keepers
found it lying on the level concrete top of the sleeping dens.
At once they went in to remove the body; but the Himalayan black
bear angrily refused to permit them to touch it. For half an hour
the men made one effort after another to coax, or entice or to
drive the guardian bear away from the dead body, but in vain. When
I reached the strange and uncanny scene, the guardian bear was in
a great rage. It took a position across the limp body, and from
that it fiercely refused to move or to be driven. As an experiment
we threw in a lot of leaves, and the guardian promptly raked them
over the dead one and stood pat.
We procured a long pole, and from a safe place on the top of the
nearest overhang, a keeper tried to prod or push away the guardian
of the dead. The living one snarled, roared, and with savage vigor
bit the end of the pole. By the time the bear was finally enticed
with food down to the front of the den, and the body removed,
seven hours had elapsed.
Now, what were the ideas and emotions of the bear? One man can
answer about as well as another. We think that the living bear
realized that something terrible had happened to its cage-mate,--
in whom he never before had manifested any guardianship
interest,--and he felt called upon to defend a friend who was very
much down and out. It was the first time that he had encountered
the great mystery, Death; and whatever it was, he resented it.
Case 7. A Terrible Punishment. Once we had a particularly mean
and vicious young Adirondack black bear named Tommy. In a short
time he became known as Tommy the Terror. We put him into a big
yard with Big Ben, from Florida, and two other bears smaller than
Ben, but larger than himself.
In a short time the Terror had whipped and thoroughly cowed Bruno
and Jappie. Next he tackled Ben; but Ben's great bulk was too much
for him. Finally he devoted a lot of time to bullying and reviling
_through the bars_ a big but good-natured cinnamon bear,
named Bob, who lived in the next den. In all his life up to that
time, Bob had had only one fight. Tommy's treatment of Bob was so
irritating to everybody that it was much remarked upon; and
presently we learned how Bob felt about it.
One morning while doing the cage work, the keeper walked through
the partition gate from Bob's den into Tommy's. He slammed the
iron gate behind him, as usual, but this time the latch did not catch
as usual. In a moment Bob became aware of this unstable condition.
Very innocently he sauntered up to the gate, pushed it open, and
walked through into the next den. The keeper was then twenty feet
away, but a warning cry from without set him in motion to stop
the intruder.
[Illustration
with caption: ALASKAN BROWN BEAR "IVAN" BEGGING FOR FOOD He
invented the very expressive sign language that he employs.]
[Illustration with caption: THE MYSTERY OF DEATH. Himalayan bear
jealously guarding the body of a dead cage-mate.]
Having no club to face, Bob quietly ignored the keeper's broom.
Paying not the slightest attention to the three inoffensive
bears, Bob fixed his gaze on the Terror, at the far end of the
den, then made straight for him. Tommy made a feeble attempt at
defense, but Bob seized him by the back, bit him, and savagely
shook him as a terrier shakes a rat. The Terror yelled lustily
"Murder! Murder! Help!" but none of the other bears made a move
for his defense. Bob was there to give Tommy the punishment that
was due him for his general meanness and his insulting behavior.
The horrified keeper secured his pike-pole, with a stout spike set
in the end for defense, and drove the spike into Bob's shoulder.
Bob went right on killing the Terror. Again the keeper drove in
his goad, and blood flowed freely; but Bob paid not the slightest
attention to this severe punishment.
Then the keeper began to beat the cinnamon over the nose; and that
made him yield. He gave the Terror a parting shake, let him go,
and with a bloody shoulder deliberately walked out of that den and
into his own. The punishment of the Terror went to the full limit,
and we think all those bears approved it. In a few hours he died
of his injuries.
Case 8. The Grizzly Bear and the String. One of the best
illustrations I know of the keenness and originality of a wild
bear's mind and senses, is found in Mr. W. H. Wright's account of
the grizzly bear he did not catch with an elk bait and two set
guns, in the Bitter Root Mountains. This story is related in
Chapter VI.
Case 9. Silver King's Memory of His Capture. At this moment we
have a huge polar bear who refuses to forget that he was captured
in the water, in Kane Basin, and who now avoids the water in his
swimming pool, almost as much as any burned child dreads fire.
Throughout the hottest months of midsummer old Silver King lies on
the rock floor of his huge and handsome den, grouching and
grumbling, and not more than once a week enjoying a swim in his
spacious pool. No other polar bear of ours ever manifested such an
aversion for water. The other polar bears who have occupied that
same den loved that pool beyond compare, and used to play in its
waters for hours at a time. Evidently the chase of Silver King
through green arctic water and over ice floes, mile after mile,
his final lassoing, and the drag behind a motor boat to the ship
were, to old Silver King, a terrible tragedy. Now he regards all
deep water as a trap to catch bears, but, strange to relate, the
winter's snow and ice seem to renew his interest in his swimming
pool. Occasionally he is seen at play in the icy water, and toying
with pieces of ice.
Memory in Bears. I think that ordinarily bear memory for human
faces and voices is not long. Once I saw Mr. William Lyman
Underwood test the memory of a black bear that for eighteen months
had been his household pet and daily companion. After a
separation of a year, which the bear spent in a public park near
Boston, Mr. Underwood approached, alone, close up to the bars of
his cage. He spoke to him in the old way, and called him by his
old name, but the bear gave absolutely no sign of recognition or
remembrance.
How a Wild Grizzly Bear Caches Food. The silver-tip grizzly bear
of the Rocky Mountains has a mental trait and a corresponding
habit which seems to be unique in bear character. It is the habit
of burying food for future use. Once I had a rare opportunity to
observe this habit. It was in the Canadian Rockies of British
Columbia, in the month of September(1905), while bears were very
activism. John M. Phillips and I shot two large white goats,
one of which rolled down a steep declivity and out upon the slide-
rock, where it was skinned. The flensed body of the other was
rolled over the edge of a cliff, and fell on a brushy soil-covered
spot about on the same level as the remains of goat No. 1.
The fresh goat remains were promptly discovered by a lusty young
grizzly, which ate to satiety from Goat No. 1. With the remains
of. Goat No. 2 the grizzly industriously proceeded to establish a
cache of meat for future use.
The goat carcass was dragged to a well chosen spot of seclusion
on moss-covered earth. On the steep hillside a shallow hole was
dug, the whole carcass rolled into it, and then upon it the bear
piled nearly a wagon load of fresh earth, moss, and green plants
that had been torn up by the roots. Over the highest point of the
carcass the mass was twenty-four inches deep. On the ground the
cache was elliptical in shape, and its outline measured about
seven by nine feet. On the lower side it was four feet high, and
on the upper side two feet. The cache was built around two larch
saplings, as if to secure their support. On the uphill side of the
cache the ground was torn up in a space shaped like a half moon,
twenty-eight feet long by nineteen wide.
I regard that cache as a very impressive exhibit of ursine
thought, reasoning and conclusion. It showed more fore-thought
and provision, and higher purpose in the conservation of food than
some human beings ever display, even at their best. The plains
Indians and the buffalo hunters were horribly wasteful and
improvident. _The impulse of that grizzly was to make good use
of every pound of that meat, and to conserve for the future._
Survival of the Bears.--The bears of North America have survived
thirty thousand years after the lions and the sabre-toothed tigers
of La Brea perished utterly and disappeared. But there were bears
also in those days, as the asphalt pits reveal. Now, why did not
all the bears of North America share the fate of the lions and the
tigers? It seems reasonable to answer that it was because the
bears were wiser, more gifted in the art of self-preservation, and
more resourceful in execution. In view of the omnivorous menu of
bears, and their appalling dependence upon small things for food,
it is to me marvelous that they now maintain themselves with such
astounding success.
A grizzly will dig a big and rocky hole three or four feet deep to
get one tiny ground-squirrel, a tidbit so small that an adult
grizzly could surely eat one hundred of them, like so many plums,
at one sitting. A bear will feed on berries under such handicaps
that one would not be surprised to see a bear starve to death in a
berry-patch.
But almost invariably the wild bear when killed is fairly well fed
and prosperous; and I fancy that no one ever found a bear that had
died of cold and exposure. The cunning of the black bear in self-
preservation surpasses that of all other large mammal species of
North America save the wolf, the white-tailed deer and the coyote.
In the game of self-preservation I will back that quartet against
all the other large land animals of North America.
What Constitutes Comfortable Captivity. It is impossible for any
man of good intelligence to work continuously with a wild animal
without learning something of its thoughts and its temper.
In our Zoological Park, day by day and hour by hour our people
carry into practical effect their knowledge of the psychology of
our mammals, birds and reptiles. In view of the work that we have
done during the past twenty-one years of the Park's history, we do
not need to apologize for claiming to know certain definite things
about wild animal minds. It is my belief that nowhere in the world
is there in one place so large an aggregation of dangerous beasts,
birds and reptiles as ours. And yet accidents to our keepers from
them have been exceedingly few, and all have been slight save
four.
Twenty-five years ago I endeavored to plan for the Zoological
Society the most humane and satisfactory bear dens on earth.
Fortunately we knew something about bears, both wild and captive.
Never before have we written out the exact motif of those dens,
but it is easily told. We endeavored to give each bear the
following things:
A very large and luxurious den, open to the sky, and practically
on a level with the world;
Perfect sanitation;
A great level playground of smooth concrete;
High, sloping rocks to climb upon when tired of the level floor;
A swimming pool, always full and always clean;
Openwork steel partitions between cages, to promote sociability
and cheerfulness;
Plenty of sunlight, but an adequate amount of shade;
Dry and dark sleeping dens with wooden floors, and
_Close-up views of all bears for all visitors._
If there are anywhere in the wilds any bears as healthy, happy and
as secure in their life tenure as ours, I do not know of them. The
wild bear lives in hourly fear of being shot, and of going to bed
hungry.
The service of our bear dens is based upon our knowledge of bear
psychology. We knew in the beginning that about 97 per cent of our
bears would come to us as cubs, or at least when quite young, and
we decided to take full advantage of that fact. All our bears save
half a dozen all told, have been trained to permit the keepers of
the dens to go into their cages, and to _make no fuss about
it._ The bears know that when the keepers enter to do the
morning housework, or at any other time for any other purpose,
they must at once climb up to the gallery, above the sleeping
dens, and stay there until the keepers retire. A bear who is slow
about going up is sternly ordered to "Go on!" and if he shows any
inclination to disobey, a heavy hickory pick-handle is thrown at
him with no uncertain hand.
Now, in grooming a herd of bears, a hickory pick-handle leaves no
room for argument. If it hits, it hurts. If it does not hit a
bear, it strikes the concrete floor or the rocks with a resound
and a rebound that frightens the boldest bear almost as much as
being hit. So the bear herd wisely climbs up to the first balcony
and sits down to wait. No bear ever leaps down to attack a keeper.
The distance and the jolt are not pleasant; and whenever a bear
grows weary and essays to climb down, he is sternly ordered back.
The keepers are forbidden to permit any familiarities on the part
of their bears.
All the bears, save one, that have come to us fully grown, and
savage, have been managed by other methods, involving shifting
cages.
On two occasions only have any of our keepers been badly bitten in
our bear dens. Both attacks were due to over-trustfulness of
"petted" bears, and to direct disobedience of fixed orders.
From the very beginning I laid down this law for our keepers, and
have repeated it from year to year.
"_Make no pets of animals large enough to become dangerous._
Make every animal understand and admit day by day that you are
absolute master, that it has got to obey, and that if it disobeys,
or attacks you, _you will kill it!_"
Familiarity with a dangerous wild animal usually breeds contempt
and attack.
Timidity is so fatal that none but courageous and determined men
should be chosen, _or be permitted,_ to take care of
dangerous animals.
In every zoological garden heroic deeds are common; and the men
take them all as coming in the day's work. Men in positions of
control over zoological parks and gardens should recognize it as a
solemn duty to provide good salaries for all men who take care of
live wild mammals, birds and reptiles. _A man who is in daily
danger of getting hurt should not every waking hour of his life be
harried and worried by poverty in his home._
Let me cite one case of real heroism in our bear dens, which went
in with "the day's work," as many others have done. Keeper Fred
Schlosser thought it would be safe to take our official
photographer, Mr. E. R. Sanborn, into the den of a European brown
bear mother, to get a close-up photograph of her and her cubs.
Schlosser felt sure that Brownie was "all right," and that he
could prevent any accident.
But near the end of the work the mother bear drove her cubs into
their sleeping den and then made a sudden, vicious and most
unexpected attack upon Keeper Schlosser. She rushed him, knocked
him down, seized him by his thigh, bit him severely, and then
actually began _to drag him_ to the door of her sleeping den!
(Just _why_ she did this I cannot explain!)
Heroically ignoring the great risk to himself, and thinking of
nothing but saving Schlosser, Mr. Sanborn seized the club that had
fallen from the keeper's hand when he fell, rushed up to the
enraged bear and beat her over the head so savagely and so
skilfully that she was glad to let go of her victim and retreat
into her den. Then Mr. Sanborn seized Schlosser, dragged him away
from the den, and stood guard over him until help came.
XIII
MENTAL TRAITS OF A FEW RUMINANTS