There is in the human mind a deep-seated and not wholly reasonable
suspicion of the "silent people," as the Indian calls the wild animals,
more especially of the hunting or carnivorous animals. They, on their
part, are equally cautious, and take note of the scent as well as the
looks and actions of the people they meet. Instinct is to them a sure
guide, and when they do venture to disobey her voice, they almost always
come to grief. Like children, the animals are very curious, and, even
though terrified, they will sometimes stop to investigate the cause of
their fright.
I have seen, in the old buffalo days upon the upper Missouri, a coyote
or gray wolf go unnoticed by a herd of buffalo, elk, or even the timid
antelope. The reason for this is that it was not the wolf's hunting
season, which is when there are calves or fawns with the herd. Should a
wolf come in sight at this time, every mother runs with her young for
safety, and the whole herd becomes excited.
The wolf on the open prairie and the silver-tip bear, a near cousin to
the grizzly, will sometimes take a fancy to keep company with you for
several miles, if he thinks you did not see him. In such a case, he will
not follow you, but keeps abreast, just far enough away to avoid
discovery. He will occasionally stop and watch you from behind cover;
but do not be alarmed! He has no intention of attacking you. Probably he
has a home and little ones not far off, and wishes to assure himself
that the stranger has no designs upon his peace.
It is well known to Indian hunters that no animal offers battle to man
except under very strong provocation. The grizzly bear is the notable
exception to this rule. Others, even the so-called ferocious beasts,
need not be feared except when pushed to the wall.
No doubt you have been more or less influenced by what you have read in
books of adventure, which are mainly highly spiced fiction. If I were to
relate to you all the fireside stories of the wild Indian, whose hunters
were constantly in the field, you would find that hand-to-hand combats
with beasts were few indeed. If the buffalo and other large animals were
aggressive in temper, what chance had the poor Indian--on foot, and,
before the coming of the European, armed only with bow and arrows or a
bone spear?
There are several things, therefore, which you may put down as general
truths. First, the animals are accustomed to mind strictly their own
business and are not likely to interfere with you unless you molest them
first. Second, there is a way to learn the peculiarity of each and make
his acquaintance. Third, it is possible to influence them greatly, even
in critical circumstances, by firmness and self-control.
If ever a grizzly bear happens to charge upon you, with wide-open lips
showing his powerful teeth and eyes flashing with anger, have the nerve
to stand your ground! Without moving a muscle, your eyes fixed on his,
you may threaten him with a mere sharp stick, and he will change his
mind. He growls, but you do not answer his challenge; he concludes to
pass on. Here is a clear demonstration of our Indian axiom: "Silence is
greater than speech."
A few years ago, an instance of this kind came to my ears among the
Assiniboine Sioux. Four Stars, a brave, followed one side of a deep
gulch while his two companions were on the other side, hunting deer. As
he approached the ravine, which was full of wild cherry and plum bushes,
his friends saw from the opposite bank a female silver-tip with her two
nearly full-grown cubs lurking within the thicket. They made every
effort to attract his attention, but in vain. He walked right down the
slope, apparently to his death.
When the three bears charged, Four Stars was taken completely by
surprise, but he showed no fear. He stopped short in his tracks and
assumed a rigid pose, his old single-loading musket extended from his
shoulder. The bears came on until they could plainly see his eyes; then
they paused and crouched, displaying their teeth and claws. A puff of
smoke from Four Stars' gun; the mother fell and rolled on the ground.
The young bears leaped savagely forward, but the young man ripped off
his shirt and threw it in their path, causing them to hesitate.
Meanwhile, as his ejector was broken, he used a ramrod to push out the
shell of his cartridge, calmly re-loaded and fired, killing the two.
Here was a hero. The odds were against him. He knew the peculiar
weakness of the foe, but to take advantage of this knowledge required
something equally important--the nerve of a master man!
I need scarcely tell you that the animals are suspicious of man. They
have every reason to be. You must have real love and sympathy for them
and be consistent and straightforward in your dealings, in order to gain
their friendship. They will accept your peace-offering of food as soon
as they trust you, and in many cases their confidence is not hard to
win.
Some will come to you when called, and a very interesting instance of
this occurred last summer, at the country home of a friend upon the Rock
River in Illinois. While a group of us sat on the veranda, I gave an
imitation of the mother rabbit's whistle; and, to our delighted
surprise, a tiny rabbit crept out from under the big leaves of some
plants near the house. It came trustingly up close to the railing, and
sat there watching us out of its bright eyes until I gave the cry of the
coyote, when the little thing raced for cover!
The mother's call and the mating or lover's call of different animals
may be successfully imitated with practice and with or without the use
of a birch-bark horn or other adjunct. A good imitation is always
answered if in season, and if the animal called is within hearing.
On the prairies and the great lakes you can attract animals to you by
means of signals. This method is based entirely upon their insatiable
desire to investigate whatever is strange to them. You may tie something
red to a long stick and set it upright in full view of antelopes,
yourself lying motionless near by, and they will come very close to
inspect it. The sand-hill crane will do the same; and if you flap your
hat or the corner of a blanket while lying flat, the Canadian geese will
circle about you and sometimes alight.
But the great secret of establishing intercourse with wild animals is to
rove in their domain without doing them harm. In this way they come to
know you long before you have made their acquaintance. I cannot tell you
how they know when to trust you, but know they do!
If you are near a lake where water-fowl congregate, take your canoe at
evening or in the early morning and paddle quietly here and there for
several days, and I will guarantee that you will be a privileged
character upon that lake. They will mind you no more than they would
mind a muskrat, and you will have a splendid opportunity to study the
character and ways of each species.
As to an individual or personal friendship with a wild creature, the
best way is to bring one up from infancy, yet allow it perfect freedom.
In this the Indian succeeded remarkably well; and it was not uncommon
for him to establish an intimacy with an adult animal or bird, although
this is a more difficult feat. You must bear in mind that knowing a
captive or domestic animal is not at all the same thing, as their habits
and manners are strongly influenced by an artificial environment.
One morning my friend Simon Bonga, a three-quarters blood Ojibway at
Leech Lake in Minnesota, found a baby fawn not more than thirty yards
from his house. He took some milk to it and left it there. The next day
he took some more, and soon the fawn would drink from his hand. After a
few days, he would simply stand in his doorway and give the mother call.
The fawn would run to him to be fed. A little later, not only he but his
wife and children were able to stroke and pet the little one, which
continued to live in its native haunts, but came regularly to the house
for food and a frolic. The mother was seen once or twice, but made no
trouble.
A year later, I wrote to Mr. Bonga and incidentally referred to the
fawn. He replied: "She is now a respectable young lady doe, and we are
much attached to her." She has lived the natural life and has yet
allowed herself the advantage of intimate association with human beings,
while my friend and his family have known the charm of close familiarity
with one of nature's most graceful creations.