another bolt down the valley, and, when directly opposite our position,
turned at right angles, crossed the brook, and came straight through the
alders into the open, not eighty yards away from us. As she made her
appearance I could not help being greatly impressed by the massive head
and high shoulders on which stood the pronounced tuft of hair. I had
most carefully seen to my sights long before, for I knew how much would
probably depend on my first shot. It surely seemed as if fortune was
with me that day, as at last I had a fair chance at the game I had come
so far to seek. Aiming with the greatest care for the lungs and heart, I
slowly pressed the trigger. The bear gave a deep, angry growl, and bit
for the wound,[4] which told me my bullet was well placed; but she kept
her feet and made a dash for the thicket. I was well above, and so
commanded a fairly clear view as she crashed through the leafless
alders. Twice more I fired, and each time with the most careful aim. At
the last shot she dropped with an angry moan. My hunters shook my hand,
and their faces told me how glad they were at my final success after so
many long weeks of persistent work. Including the time spent last year
and this year, this bear represented eighty-seven days of actual
hunting.
[Footnote 4: When a bullet strikes a Kadiak bear, he will always bite
for the wound and utter a deep and angry growl; whereas of the eleven
bears which my friend and I shot on the Alaska peninsula, although they,
too, bit for the wound, not one uttered a sound.]
I at once started down to look at the bear, when out upon the mountain
opposite the bull was seen. He had heard the shots and was now once
more but a moving black speck on the snow, but it will always be a
mystery to me how he could have heard the three reports of my small-bore
rifle so far away and against a strong wind. My natives suggested that
the shots must have echoed, and in this I think they were right; but
even then it shows how abnormally the sense of hearing has been
developed in these bears.
I was sorry to find that the small-bore rifle did not give as great a
shock as I had expected, for my first two bullets had gone through the
bear's lungs and heart without knocking her off her feet.
The bear was a female, as we had supposed, but judging from what my
natives said, only of medium size. She measured 6 feet 4 inches in a
straight line between the nose and the end of the vertebrae, and 44-5/8
inches at the shoulders. The fur was in prime condition, and of an
average length of 4-1/2 inches, but over the shoulders the mane was two
inches longer. Unfortunately, as in many of the spring skins, there was
a large patch over the rump apparently much rubbed. The general belief
is that these worn patches are made by the bears sliding down hill on
their haunches on the snow; but my natives have a theory that this is
caused by the bears' pelt freezing to their dens and being torn off when
they wake from their winter's sleep.
Although this female was not large for a Kadiak bear, as was proved by
one I shot later in the season, I was much pleased with my final
success, and our camp that night was quite a merry one.
Shortly after killing this bear, Blake and I returned to the trading
post at Wood Island to prepare for a new hunt, this time to the Alaska
Peninsula.
II.
BEAR HUNTING ON THE ALASKA PENINSULA
The year before I had chanced to meet an old pilot who had the
reputation of knowing every nook and corner of the Alaskan coast. He
told me several times of the great numbers of bears that he had often
seen in a certain bay on the Alaska Peninsula, and advised me most
strongly to try this place. We now determined to visit this bay in a
good sized schooner we had chartered from the North American Commercial
Company.
There were numerous delays in getting started, but finally, on May 31,
we set sail, and in two days were landed at our new shooting
grounds. Rarely in modern days does it fall to the lot of amateurs to
meet with better sport than we had for the next month.
The schooner landed us with our natives, two baidarkas, and all our
provisions, near the mouth of the harbor. Here we made our base of
supplies, and the next morning in our two canoes started with our
hunters to explore this wonderful bay. At high tide Chinitna Bay extends
inland some fifteen miles, but at low water is one vast bog of glacial
deposit. Rugged mountains rise on all sides, and at the base of these
mountains there are long meadows which extend out to the high water
mark. In these meadows during the month of June the bears come to feed
upon the young and tender salt grass.
There was a long swell breaking on the beach as we left our base of
supplies, but we passed safely through the line of breakers to the
smooth waters beyond, and now headed for the upper bay. The two
baidarkas kept side by side, and Blake and I chatted together, but all
the while kept the glasses constantly fixed upon the hillsides. We had
hardly gone a mile before a small black bear was sighted; but the wind
was unfavorable, and he got our scent before we could land. This looked
decidedly encouraging, and we continued on in the best of spirits. About
mid-day we went on shore, lunched, and then basked in the sun until the
afternoon, when we again got into the baidarkas and paddled further up
the bay to a place where a wide meadow extends out from the base of the
mountains. Here Nikolai, my head hunter, went on shore with the
glasses, and raising himself cautiously above the bank, took a long look
at the country beyond. It was at once quite evident that he had seen
something, and we all joined him, keeping well hidden from view. There,
out upon the marsh, could be seen two large bears feeding upon the young
grass. They seemed in an almost unapproachable position, and we lay and
watched them, hoping that they would move into a more advantageous
place. After an hour or so they fed back toward the trees, and soon
passed out of sight.
We matched to see which part of the meadow each should watch, and it
fell to my lot to go further up the marsh. I had been only a short time
in this place when a new bear came into sight. We now made a most
beautiful stalk right across the open to within a hundred yards. All
this while a new dog, which I had bought at Kadiak and called Stereke,
had crawled with us flat on his stomach, trembling all over with
excitement as he watched the bear. I had plenty of time to take aim, and
was in no way excited, but missed clean at one hundred yards. At the
report of my rifle Stereke bit himself clear from Nikolai, who was
holding him, and at once made for the bear, which he tackled in a most
encouraging manner, nipping his heels, and then quickly getting out of
the way as the bear charged. But I found that one dog was not enough to
hold these bears, and this one got safely away.
It was a dreary camp that night, for I had missed an easy shot without a
shadow of excuse. We pitched our small tent at the extreme edge of the
marsh behind a large mass of rocks. I turned in thoroughly depressed,
but awoke the next morning refreshed, and determined to retrieve my
careless shooting of the day before. A bad surf breaking on the beach
prevented our going further up the bay in our baidarkas, as we had
planned to do. We loafed in the sun until evening, while our natives
kept constant watch of the great meadow where we had seen the bears the
day before. We had just turned in, although at ten o'clock it was still
daylight, when one of the natives came running up to say that a bear was
in sight, so Blake, with three natives and Stereke, made the stalk. I
had a beautiful chance to watch it from the high rocks beside our
camp. The men were able to approach to within some fifty yards, and
Blake, with his first shot, hit, and with his third killed the bear
before it could get into the brush. Stereke, when loosed, acted in a
gallant manner, and tackled the bear savagely.
Unfortunately no measurements were taken, but the bear appeared to be
somewhat smaller than the female I killed at Kiliuda Bay, and weighed, I
should judge, some 450 pounds. It appeared higher on the legs and less
massive than the Kadiak bear, and had a shorter mane, but was of much
the same tawny color on the back, although darker on the legs and belly.
Two days later we set out from our camp behind the rocks and paddled a
short distance up the bay.
Here we left the baidarkas and crossed a large meadow without sighting
bear. We then followed some miles the banks of a small stream. Leaving
my friend with his two men, I pushed ahead with my natives to
investigate the country beyond. But the underbrush was so dense it was
impossible to see more than a few yards ahead. We had gone some
distance, and Fedor and I had just crossed a deep stream on a rickety
fallen tree, while the other native was following, when I chanced to
look back and saw a small black bear just opposite. He must have smelt
us, and, wanting to see what sort of creature man was, had deliberately
followed up our tracks. Nikolai had my rifle on the other side of the
brook, so I snatched up Fedor's and twice tried to shoot; but the safety
bolt would not work, and when I had it adjusted the bear showed only one
shoulder beyond a tree. It was just drawing back when I pressed the
trigger. The bullet grazed the tree, was deflected, and a patch of hair
was all that I had for what promised the surest of shots.
In the afternoon we made for a place which our hunters declared was a
sure find for bear; but unlike most "sure places," we sighted our game
even before we reached the ground. There they were, two large grizzled
brutes, feeding on the salt marsh grass like two cows. We made a most
exciting approach in our baidarkas, winding in and out, across the open,
up a small lagoon which cut into the meadow where the bears were
feeding. We got to within two hundred yards when they became suspicious,
but could not quite make us out. One now rose on his hind legs to get a
better view, and offered a beautiful chance, but I waited for my friend,
whose turn it was to have first shot, and he delayed, thinking that I
was not ready. The result was that the bears at once made for the woods,
and we both missed.
Stereke again did his part well, catching one of the bears and tackling
him in a noble manner, turning him and doing his best to hold him, but
this was more than one dog could do, and the bear broke away and soon
reached cover.
I am glad to record that with this day's miss ended some of the most
careless shooting I have ever done.
This evening we made our camp on the beach on the other side of the
bay. I was up frequently during the night, for bears were constantly
moving about on the mountain side just behind our sleeping place, but
although I could distinctly hear them, the thick brush prevented my
getting a shot.
In this latitude there is practically no night during the month of June,
and I can recall no more enchanting spot than where we were now camped.
Even my hard day's work would not bring sleep, and I lay with my
faithful dog at my feet and gazed on the vast mountains about us, their
summits capped with snow, while their sides were clothed in the dull
velvet browns of last year's herbage, through which the vivid greens of
a northern summer were rapidly forcing themselves.
It was after five next morning when we left in our two baidarkas for the
extreme head of the bay, where there was another vast meadow. My friend
chose to hunt the right side of this marsh, while I took the left.
On reaching our watching place I settled myself for the day in my fur
rug, and soon dozed off to finish my night's rest, while my men took
turns with the glasses. About ten o'clock a black bear was sighted a
long way off, but he soon wandered into the thicket which surrounded the
marsh on three sides. At twelve o'clock he appeared again, and we now
circled well to leeward and waited where two trails met at the edge of
the meadow, expecting the bear would work down one of them to us. It was
a long tiresome wait, for we were perched upon some tussocks through
which the water soon found its way. About five o'clock we returned to
our original watching place, where my friend joined me.
The wind had been at a slant, and although we had worked safely around
the bear, he must have got the scent of Blake's party, although a long
way off, for my friend reported that the bear was coming in our
direction, as we had counted upon, when he suddenly threw up his head,
gave one whiff, and started for the woods.
On Friday morning, June 7, we made a three o'clock start from where we
had passed the night on the beach. The sun was not over the mountains
for another hour, and there was that great charm which comes in the
early dawn of a summer's day. Blake in his baidarka, and I in mine,
paddled along, side by side, and pushed up to the extreme head of the
bay, where we came upon an old deserted Indian camp of the year before.
Numerous stretchers told of their success with bear; but the remains of
an old fire in the very heart of our shooting grounds warned us that in
this section the bears might have been disturbed; for the Alaskan bear
is very wary, and is quick to take alarm at any unusual scent. We came
back to our camp on the beach by ten o'clock, and had our first
substantial meal of the day; for we had now adopted the Aleutian habit
of taking simply a cup of tea and a piece of bread in order to make the
earliest of starts each morning.
After our mid-day breakfast, we usually took a nap until afternoon; but
this day I was not sleepy, and so read for a while, then I loaded my
rifle, which I always kept within arm's reach, and was just settling my
rugs to turn in, when Stereke gave a sharp bark, and Blake shouted,
"Bear." Seizing my rifle I looked up, and walking toward us on the
beach, just 110 yards away, was a good sized bull bear. My dog at once
made for him, while Blake jumped for his rifle. The bear was just
turning when I fired. He bit for the wound, but uttered no sound, and
was just disappearing in the brush when I fired a hasty second; Blake
and I followed into the thick alders after the dog, which was savagely
attacking the bear. His barking told us where the bear was, and I
arrived just in time to see him make a determined charge at the dog,
which quickly avoided him, and just as quickly renewed the attack.
I forced my way through the alders and got in two close shots, which
rolled him over. It appeared that my first shot had broken his shoulder,
as well as cut the lower portion of the heart; but this bear had gone
some fifty yards, and was still on his feet, when I came up and finished
him off. He was a fair sized bull, six feet two inches in a straight
line along the vertebrae, and stood exactly three feet at the
shoulders. He had evidently been fighting, for one ear was badly torn,
and his skin was much scarred with old and recent wounds. After
removing the pelt the carcass was thrown into the bay, so that there
might be no stench, which my natives declared would be enough to spoil
any future shooting in this locality. This same afternoon we moved our
camp to a new marsh, but the wind was changeable, and we saw nothing.
The next morning we sighted a bear, which fed into the woods before we
had time to come up with him. Shortly after five o'clock the brute made
a second appearance, but as the wind had changed and now blew in the
wrong direction, a stalk could not be made without our scent being
carried into the woods, where many bears were apt to be. We made it a
great point never to make a stalk unless the wind was right, for we were
extremely anxious not to spoil the place by diffusing our scent, and
driving away whatever bears might be lurking near. Therefore, many times
we had a chance to watch bears at only a few hundred yards' distance.
It was most interesting to see how careful these big animals were, and
how, from time to time, they would feel the wind with their noses, and
again stop feeding and listen. No two bears seemed to be built on quite
the same lines. Some were high at the shoulders and then sloped down
toward the rump and nose; and again, others were saddle-backed; still
others stood with their front feet directly under them, making a regular
curve at the shoulders; while others had the front legs wide apart, and
seemed to form a triangle, the apex of which was at the shoulders.
Their range of color seemed to be from very dark, silver-tipped, to a
very light dirty yellow, but with dark legs and belly.
This evening, just as we were having our tea, another bear made his
appearance. The first, which we had been watching, evidently heard him
coming through the woods, and as the second came out into the open the
former vanished. The new one was a dirty yellowish white, with very dark
belly and legs, which gave him a most comical appearance.
The wind still continued unfavorable, and my friend and I passed an
extremely interesting evening with the glasses, for this watching game,
especially bear, gives me almost as much pleasure as making the actual
stalk.
About ten o'clock the wind changed, and Blake went after the bear, but
unfortunately missed at about one hundred yards.
The following day opened dull, and we spent the morning keeping a sharp
watch on the marsh. About ten o'clock a large bear was seen to come out
from the trees. The wind was wrong, and as the bear was in an
unapproachable position I had to sit with folded arms and watch him. I
used the glasses with much interest until shortly after four o'clock,
when he slowly fed into the brush.
We had just finished supper when we saw another bear in a better
position, and I proceeded to make the stalk, going part of the way in
the baidarka, for the great meadow was intersected by a stream from
which small lagoons made off in all directions. The wind was very
baffling, and although we successfully reached a clump of brush in the
middle of the marsh, the bear for some time continued to graze in an
unapproachable spot. We had almost given up hope of getting a shot,
when he turned and fed slowly some fifty yards in a new direction, which
was up-wind. This was our chance. Quickly regaining the baidarka, we
paddled as noiselessly and rapidly as possible up the main stream of the
marsh to a small lagoon, which now at high tide had sufficient water to
float us.
There was great charm in stalking game in this manner, although I was,
in a sense, but a passenger in my natives' hands. But it was fascinating
to watch their keenness and skill as they guided the frail craft round
the sharp turns, the noiseless use of the paddles, the light in their
eye as they constantly stood up in the canoe to keep a hidden gaze upon
the game ahead, watching its every movement as well as the local eddies
and currents in the light evening breeze. All was so in keeping with the
sombre leaden clouds overhead, and the grizzled sides of the ungainly
brute, blending in with the background of weather-beaten tree trunks and
the dull gray rocks. And so, silently and swiftly, stopping many times
when the bear's head was up, we approached nearer and nearer, until my
head man whispered, _Boudit_ (enough), and I knew that I was to
have a fair shot. Stealthily raising my head above the bank I saw the
bear feeding, only seventy-five yards away. Creeping cautiously out of
the boat I lay flat upon my stomach, rifle cocked and ready, waiting for
a good shot. Soon it came. The bear heard some sound in the forest, and
raised his head. Now was my chance, and the next second he dropped
without a sound; he struggled to rise, but I could see he was anchored
with a broken shoulder. My men were unable to restrain themselves any
longer, and as I shot for the second time, their rifles cracked just
after mine. We now rushed up to close quarters. The bear, shot through
the lungs, was breathing heavily and rapidly choking.
Suddenly I heard a yap, and then, out over the marsh, came Stereke at
full speed. I had left him with my friend, as we thought we might have
to do some delicate stalking across the open. He had sighted the bear,
and watched our approach all a-tremble, and at the report of my rifle
there was no holding him. Over the ground he came in great bounds, and
arrived just in time to give the bear a couple of shakes before he
breathed his last. We carried the entire carcass to the baidarka, and
even the cartridge shells were taken away, to avoid tainting the place
with an unusual scent.
The next day we returned to the main camp, for Fedor, who was ill, had
become very weak, and was in no condition to stand any hardships. We
left him at the main camp in care of Payjaman. He was greatly
depressed, and seemed to give way completely, frequently saying that he
never expected to see his home again. Knowing the Aleut's character so
well, I much feared that his mental state might work fatal results. Our
medicines were of the simplest, and there was but little we could
do. Fortunately he did recover, but it was not until two weeks later,
when our hunt was nearly over, that he began to get better.
Three days afterward we were back again at our camp behind the rocks. We
had wanted rain for some time to wash out all scent. Then again bears
are supposed to move about more freely in such weather. Therefore we
were rather pleased when the wind changed, bringing a northwest storm
which continued all the next day. The lofty mountains were rapidly
losing the snow on their summits, and the night's rain had wrought
marvels in their appearance, seeming to bring out every shade of green
on their wooded slopes. One of our natives was kept constantly on the
lookout, and a dozen times a day both Blake and I would leave our books
and climb to the watching place for a view across the great meadow. By
this time we knew the bear trails and the most tempting feeding grounds,
and the surest approaches to the game when it had once come into the
open. Therefore when I was told this evening that a bear had been
sighted, I felt pretty sure of getting a shot. He had not come well out
into the open, and was clearly keeping near cover and working parallel
to the brush. If he continued in this direction he would soon be out of
sight. Our only chance was to make a quick approach, and Nikolai and I
were immediately under way, leaving my dog with my friend, who was to
loose him in case I got a shot.
The wind was coming in great gusts across our front, and the corner
where the bear was feeding offered a dangerous place for eddies and
back-currents against the mountain side. In order to avoid these, we
kept just inside the woods. Nikolai going first showed the greatest
skill in knowing just how close to the wind we could go. We quickly
reached the place where we expected to sight the bear, but he was hidden
in the bed of the river, and it was some minutes before we could make
out the top of his head moving above the grass. Then noiselessly we
crawled up as the bear again fed slowly into view. He was now about 125
yards away, and offered an excellent shot as he paused and raised his
head to scent the breeze; but Nikolai whispered, "No," and we worked
nearer, crawling forward when the bear's head was down, and lying flat
and close when his head was up.
It is curious to note that often when game is being stalked it becomes
suspicious, although it cannot smell, hear, or see the stalker;
instinct, perhaps--call it what you will. And now this bear turned and
began moving slowly toward cover. For some time he was hidden from
view, and then, just before he would finally vanish from sight, he
paused a moment, offering a quartering shot. The lower half of his body
was concealed by the grass, but it was my last chance, and I took it,
aiming for the lungs and rather high in order to get a clear shot. I saw
as he bit for the wound that the bullet was well placed, and as he
turned and lumbered across our front, I fired two more deliberate shots,
one going through the fore leg and one breaking a hind leg.
Nikolai also fired, giving the bear a slight skin wound, and hitting the
hind leg just above where one of my bullets had previously struck. As
the bear entered the brush we both ran up, my hunter going to the left
while I went a little below to head the bear off. We soon came upon him,
and Nikolai, getting the first sight, gave him another bullet through
the lungs with my heavy rifle, and in a few moments he rolled over dead.
It was my thought always to keep a wounded bear from getting into the
brush, as the blood trail would have ruined future shooting.