wide range in search of various foods in their season; yet, broadly
speaking, is pretty apt to live and die in the general neighborhood of
its birth. They wander both day and night, although when they are in a
region where grizzlies are also to be found they are careful to
disappear about the time that the latter, which are much more nocturnal
in habit, may be expected to come out. When a Black Bear has young cubs
she will stay for a week or two at a time in one place, and will scratch
a nest or bed among the leaves or in a thicket and lie up there between
feeds with her youngsters.
There are few things more interesting than to watch a bear with her cubs
when she thinks herself alone. They are the gayest and most playful
little balls of fur, and she will let them maul her and worry her and
pretend to fight her. But a Black Bear does not, as the grizzly does,
talk to her cubs all the time. A grizzly will walk along through the
woods with two or three cubs carrying on what appears to be a connected
conversation. She grunts and whines and makes noises at them that sound
as though they were full of advice and admonition. They are doubtless
merely encouragement or assurances of her presence. But the Black Bear
is silent except in cases of danger or emergency. Then she, too,
“speaks” to her youngsters, and they never seem to be at a loss for her
meaning. At any rate they go up a tree at the word of command, and come
down again at the grunt that means, “All right now, come on.”
[Illustration: A mother and two cubs]
As the cubs grow larger and stronger the mother wanders farther afield
with them, and, from sacrificing all her time and desires to their needs
and safety, comes gradually first to tolerate, and toward the end of the
season rather to resent, their persistent demands upon her. One imagines
that it is with a final indifference and relief that she sends them off
to shift for themselves. For, like other animals, a bear, while showing
the most devoted and courageous love for her children while they are
helpless, has a very short-lived affection for them once they cease to
need her protection. In one instance the Lodges tried the experiment of
returning some half-grown cubs to their mother after a comparatively
short separation, during which she and her mate had been together in the
main pit. The two cubs had only been by themselves for a few weeks, and
before they were finally returned to the pen with their mother they were
kept for some days separated from her by nothing more than an iron
grating. Yet as soon as they were put into the pit with her she seized
one of them and killed it, and was starting up her exercise tree after
the other which had taken refuge there when the owners interfered and
rescued the youngster. Here, as I see it, was a case of artificial
separation which, once the mother had accepted, placed her, as far as
her own feelings went, in exactly the same frame of mind toward her cubs
as though she had abandoned them in the natural course of things and
their company had afterward been forced upon her.
Neither the Black Bear nor the grizzly is really a sociable animal, but
free Black Bears occasionally play together, which grizzlies never seem
to do. Under ordinary circumstances, however, Black Bears have a funny
trick of pretending not to see each other when they meet. If one of them
comes into a marshy meadow or a small open glade in the woods where one
or two others are already feeding, he will make the most laughable
pretence of not seeing them. He will stop at the edge of the opening and
go through all the motions of examining the country, carefully looking,
however, everywhere but in the direction of the other bears; all of
which is vastly amusing to one familiar with the keenness of his senses
and the alertness of his attention, and the practical impossibility of
getting within seeing or hearing distance of him without his knowing it.
Meanwhile the bears already on the ground play their part in the little
comedy with all the good will in the world. They have undoubtedly been
aware of the approach of the newcomer long before any human watcher of
the scene could have suspected it. But they give no outward sign of
being aware of the new arrival. If, however, the intruder had happened
to have been a grizzly they would undoubtedly have taken to their heels
or taken refuge in the nearest tree with loud puffings and snortings
some minutes before he reached the scene. Yet these same bears, once
they have fed their fill, will frequently go to playing together as one
never sees the grizzlies do. Two of them will stand up and wrestle, roll
each other over and over, chase each other about, and generally have a
fine romp. As a rule, however, this sort of play takes place between
bears of different sizes, and the smaller one sometimes gets well thrown
about and mauled.
One of the most entertaining experiences that I ever had in the woods
was connected with just such an after-dinner romp between two Black
Bears. I was photographing grizzlies in the Rocky Mountains in Wyoming,
and had set up my camera and flash-light apparatus near a likely looking
trail. My flash-pan was placed on top of a ten-foot pole stuck in the
ground under a small pine tree, and a fine wire was run from the switch
that operated the apparatus across the trail and tied to a convenient
bush. I had completed my arrangements about half-past four in the
afternoon and had concealed myself in a mass of fallen timber some
seventy-five or eighty feet away prepared to wait for dusk.
Soon after I got settled I noticed two Black Bears in a little clearing
to my left and, for something to do, I set to watching them. For some
time they fed quietly here and there and then they took to playing. One
of them was quite a bit larger than the other, but the smaller one was
game and though he got considerably the worst of the rough sport they
kept the play up for quite a while. Suddenly, however, in the very midst
of an excited wrestling match, the little fellow drew away, stood up on
his hind legs and listened for a moment, and then went up a convenient
tree, his companion following his example and taking refuge in another
one. I was much interested over this turn of affairs and kept a close
watch to see what was going to happen next. But, after quite a little
wait, the bears seemed to make up their minds that it had been a false
alarm and, coming down from their respective trees, they resumed their
rough and tumble fun. Not for long, however. It was only a minute or two
before they repeated their former maneuvers, and this time they appeared
to have no doubt as to the imminence of danger. They had worked their
way over to my side of the clearing, and when they broke for shelter the
little bear took refuge in the small pine tree under which my flash-pan
stood, his companion selecting a larger tree a little further away. And
sure enough, almost as soon as they were well off the ground an old
grizzly came stalking dignifiedly out of the woods and down the trail
upon which my camera was set. But he had evidently noticed that
something questionable was going on, and he walked over toward the tree
where the larger bear was sitting. The latter, conscious of his
advantage of position, greeted the grizzly’s approach with a volley of
puffs and snorts, and after looking around him in a disdainful sort of
way, the grizzly sauntered over toward the smaller bear’s tree, where
the same performance was gone through. Here, however, the grizzly found
something that aroused his curiosity more keenly than a mere Black Bear,
for he discovered my pole and flash-pan. He stood up on his hind legs
and easily sniffed the top of the pan and then, discovering the wire, he
followed it without touching it away from the pine tree and across the
trail to where it was fastened. Then, his curiosity getting the better
of him, he raised one front paw and pulled the bush toward him,
whereupon the charge of powder exploded with a huge puff of smoke, and
as I stood up in my retreat to get a better view of the outcome I caught
a glimpse with one eye of a big grizzly turning a double back
somersault, while with the other I saw a small Black Bear take one
desperate leap from the branches of his pine tree and disappear into the
wood in huge leaps.
When the last act of this little comedy began I had risen to my feet in
order to get a clear view of what took place, and when the smaller Black
Bear had disappeared into the woods I saw that his larger companion had
become aware of my presence. I once more concealed myself among the
branches, but the Black Bear in the tree kept an eye in my direction and
when, at the end of five minutes or so, the smaller bear returned
cautiously to the scene of his recent discomfiture and began to coax his
friend to come down and resume their play, it was amusing to watch the
cross-purposes at which they found themselves. For the one up the tree
who knew of my presence was afraid to come down and yet unable to
explain the circumstances to the one on the ground, and he in his turn
was utterly unable to make head or tail of the other’s actions. He
finally gave up the attempt to persuade him and wandered away into the
woods, and at the end of half an hour or so the other bear, evidently
with serious misgivings, came carefully down the opposite side of his
tree and made off at the double quick.
The Black Bear’s habits of hibernation are less rigid and apparently
less developed than the grizzly’s. To begin with, they are far less
industrious in providing themselves with a den, and less particular in
having it weatherproof and well concealed. The grizzly habitually seeks
out some natural cave or shelter in the rocks, high up in the mountains,
often above snow line. This he prepares for occupancy by raking into it
whatever he can find in the way of leaves or dried grasses, and
sometimes stops up with earth and stones such holes or openings as would
expose the interior to the weather. The Black Bear is far less
particular. Any old place that offers him some fair promise of
protection and privacy seems good enough for him. He dens up at much
lower altitudes, goes into winter quarters later and comes out much
earlier. One of his favorite devices is to dig a hole under the butt end
of a fallen tree, rake a few leaves into the opening, and then crawl in
himself. Sometimes, when the tree is a good-sized one and the roots hold
the butt of it a little clear of the ground, he is saved the trouble of
digging at all and makes a sort of nest in the space beneath the trunk.
At other times he will dig a hole in the soft ground, and, of course,
occasionally uses caves or other natural retreats if he happens to find
them handy. Ben, it will be recalled, dug under the floor of my barn
when it came to be his bedtime.
The time for denning up varies with the locality and the weather, and
throughout the North-west is anywhere from November 1 to January 1.
Unlike the grizzly, however, the Black Bear will often come out for a
while if a warm spell follows his denning up. The Lodges note that their
bears, once they are settled in their winter caves, never seem to pay
any further attention to the weather. But while this is probably the
rule, I have seen Black Bears out in some numbers late in December after
there had been severe freezing weather during which all bears had denned
up.
There is some difference of opinion as to their habits further south,
and some authorities claim that at the extreme southern limit of their
range the bears belonging to the Black Bear group do not hibernate at
all. I incline, however, from what I have seen—or rather failed to
see—to the opposite belief; for in parts of Old Mexico where, in the
spring, I have seen many bears, I have again in the winter time failed
to see either them or their fresh tracks, and upon making inquiry of the
Indians have been told that they were asleep.
Moreover, Mr. Charles Sheldon, of New York, who for fifteen years has
made a close study of bears in their natural state and has spent four
years in Mexico studying bear and sheep, informs me that all the bears
den up almost as early in those mountains as they do further north, and
that he has never seen bears in Mexico come out of winter quarters
earlier than in the United States.
There has been much scientific discussion as to the nature of this long
sleep, and also much popular misconception in regard to its outward
manifestations. I do not aspire to a voice in the former, but can speak
from considerable experience in regard to the latter. Many, perhaps
most, people seem to think that a bear that has denned up for the winter
is in some mysterious, and more or less complete state of coma; that its
breathing is all but suspended, and that it would be difficult, even by
violence, to rouse it. They are very far from the truth. Bears sleep,
but are easily roused, quick to scent danger, and ready to abandon their
retreat and look up a new one if they think it necessary.
Ben, at any time during the winter, would rouse if I called him, and
would even come to the mouth of his lair for a moment to greet me. I
could, moreover, hear him breathing, and sometimes hear him move and
readjust himself to a more comfortable position. He was a very lazy,
stupid, sleepy bear; but never too stupid or sleepy to answer my call.
One fall in Washington, near Colville in the Calispell Mountains, while
after deer, I noticed a strange mass of dead leaves, small sticks, pine
needles, and other forest refuse gathered under the tangled trunks of a
windfall, where a number of trees had been blown down crisscross. My
curiosity was piqued by the queer-looking affair and I climbed along one
of the tree trunks to see what it was. Suddenly, as I got almost over
it, the whole mass began to shake and quiver and out came an old Black
Bear and two cubs. This was the only time that I ever actually knew of a
Black Bear and her cubs having denned up together. And I have never seen
more than a dozen cases where it seemed probable that they had. Later on
on this same trip I saw seven other Black Bear sleeping places, all in
similar situations under tree trunks or tangled down-timber.
Only a year ago, up at Priest Lake, in Idaho, some friends and myself
came across the tracks of a cougar, and, having gone back for dogs, we
returned and put them on its trail. We were in full chase along the side
of a mountain when one of the dogs attracted my attention by the way he
acted. He turned aside, rushed to a dead tree that lay along the ground,
and began excitedly sniffing at one end of it. I knew that the cougar
could not be there and went over to see what was attracting the dog’s
attention, and saw instantly that a Black Bear had been denned up under
the log, but, disturbed by the dog’s approach, had broken out and made
off down the mountain in a foot and a half of snow.
These are merely examples of many such experiences, and I have more than
once followed the trail of a bear and seen where it had made itself a
new retreat.
We know, since they lay up no store of provisions, that the bear does
not eat during its long retirement, and although, in the north, it would
be possible for it to provide itself with water by eating the snow that
shuts it in, we know that bears hibernating in captivity (a thing by the
way that they do not often do) neither eat nor drink.
One odd fact about the whole proceeding is that all bears of the same
class in the same locality go into winter quarters and emerge from them
within a few days of each other. In the Selkirk Mountains in British
Columbia, I have seen where six grizzlies had broken their way through
several feet of snow out of six different caves on the side of a single
mountain all in one night. In localities where both species are found,
the Black Bear come out from one to two months earlier than the
grizzlies, and in both species the males emerge two weeks or more before
the females with new cubs. But all of each kind come out within a day or
two of each other.
I incline to the belief that in the majority of cases the Black Bear,
when in freedom, breeds every year. Most authorities on bears who base
their opinions upon observations made on captive animals, claim that
both the grizzly and the Black Bear breed annually. But a long series of
observations and the closest possible attention given to this point has
absolutely convinced me that it is the very rare exception when a free
female grizzly breeds oftener than once in two years. I have seen many
hundreds of grizzly mothers with cubs in the open, and fully as many of
them were followed by yearling cubs as by spring cubs. But although (the
Black Bear being much more numerous than the grizzly) I have seen many
more Black Bears with cubs than grizzlies with cubs, I have never seen
more than a dozen Black Bear mothers followed by yearling cubs.
I have therefore been forced to conclude that it is the habit of the
Black Bear to wean its cubs and abandon them before denning up the first
fall. In the case of the grizzly the mother and the cubs den up together
the fall following the latter’s birth, and run together during the
following summer, and it is not until late in the second season that the
mother turns the cubs adrift to shift for themselves. This family of
young grizzlies then usually den up together and continue to run
together the third summer, at the close of which the litter disbands and
the individuals belonging to it take up their separate lives. I have
also seen a few litters of yearling Black Bears still running in company
without their mother; but as this is by no means a common sight, I
believe that ordinarily Black Bear cubs den up separately after they
leave their mother at the close of their first summer.
Inasmuch, however, as I have seen a few Black Bear mothers followed by
yearling cubs, I assume that in these cases the mother and cubs had
denned up together in the same manner that the grizzlies habitually do.
And I once actually found an old Black Bear and two cubs so settled for
the winter. I have also tracked an old grizzly and her cubs to where
they had gone into winter quarters together, and have seen where a
grizzly mother and her year-old family had emerged from hibernation in
company the second spring. I have also often seen where a litter of
two-year-old grizzly cubs had wintered together in one cave after
leaving their mother in their third fall, but I have never seen any
actual evidence of young Black Bears wintering together in this manner.
I believe that the explanation of this very striking difference of habit
between the Black and the grizzly bears in the matter of breeding
annually or biennially, is to be found in their different degrees of
fierceness, and in the resulting fact that the Black Bear cubs are not
so long in danger from the evil tempers and bloodthirsty dispositions of
the grown males of their kind.
A new-born cub of either species would be instantly killed, and probably
eaten, by any old male that got the opportunity; and, unnatural as this
seems to us, it is true of many or most carnivorous, or partly
carnivorous, animals. It is true of rats, as most boys who have bred
white rats have had occasion to discover. The memory of the habit, at
least, survives in the fierceness with which even a pet dog with puppies
will keep the father of them away from her basket. In all zoological
gardens it is necessary to separate the male bears from the female at
and after the birth of cubs, and the habits of mother bears in the woods
show that their instincts warn them very effectually of the wisdom of
this course.
But while the Black Bear mother shows no great concern for the safety of
her cubs after they have reached the age of five or six months, the
grizzly mother continues, with good reason, to evade or resent the
approach of other members of her tribe till well into the second year. I
have on two different occasions known of a male grizzly’s killing and
eating a cub that had been left fastened by a chain near a camp; and in
one instance I came upon a grizzly that had just killed a female and had
eaten her two cubs. She had been caught in a steel trap set by a
trapper, and her two cubs were with her. The male, finding her in this
predicament, had doubtless attacked the cubs, and when, hampered as she
was by the trap and clog, she had attempted to defend them, he had
killed her too.
A female grizzly with young is one of the most dangerous animals in the
world. She will allow no other bear of either sex to approach either her
or them. And this invariable attitude of her fully accounts, to my mind,
for her failure to breed while the young are still with her. But the
Black Bear mother is not only a comparatively inoffensive animal at all
times, but she seems to have no such lasting distrust of other members
of her own species. I have often seen an old Black Bear asleep in the
branches of a tree with her five or six-months-old cubs frisking around
on the ground, when she must have been well aware that there were Black
Bears of the opposite sex in the neighborhood. This is not to be put
down to indifference on her part. It simply means that the necessity for
watchfulness has passed. It therefore becomes easily understandable that
the Black Bear mother can afford, without risk to her half-grown cubs,
to breed every year in the open; while the grizzly does not, until her
young are fully able to take care of themselves unaided, dare to
associate with their possible enemies—the cantankerous males of the
tribe.
The records of the Lodges contain one or two interesting notes relating
to these matters. The first time that their original pair of Black Bears
bred they did not separate the mother and father, and the first
intimation that they had of the birth of cubs was the appearance of the
father at the mouth of the den with a dead cub in its mouth. After that
they took care to give the female separate quarters. Again, the only two
occasions during the last sixteen or eighteen years on which this female
has failed to breed have been in years when her cubs were allowed to
remain with her throughout the summer, and when, as the owners state,
she was so taken up with them that she refused to have anything to do
with her mate.
This is exactly the attitude that my observations have led me to assume
as habitual on the part of the free grizzly. And I imagine that the
Black Bear mother adopted it in this case because, in the narrow
quarters of a twenty-foot bear-pit, she was afraid to relax her
vigilance, as she doubtless would have felt justified in doing in her
natural surroundings.
[Illustration: Taking a sun bath]
Another point of difference between the two species that agrees with the
earlier abandonment of its young by the Black Bear is the fact that
these appear to breed at least a year earlier than the young of the
grizzly. The latter, as we have seen, only separate and den up
individually at the end of their third summer and breed the following
year at the earliest; but I have seen Black Bear mothers that could not
have weighed over a hundred pounds, and that made the most amusing and
appealing picture of youthful responsibility.
There is a widespread notion that bears are given to travelling in
company; that they are sociable animals, and that bear families—father,
mother, and children—are not only to be met with in the woods, but den
up together for the winter. This is not true. Only mothers and cubs or
occasionally half-grown cubs of one litter ever travel together. I have
never seen the slightest evidence that grown bears, male and female,
ever travel in couples, even in the mating season; and I have never
known a case where full-grown animals of any bear species denned up
together. These statements apply no less to the Black Bear than to the
grizzly.