began to feel very uncomfortable indeed, for she stood about six feet
high in her stocking feet, and I had not even a stick to defend myself
with. I began backing slowly toward the hotel, and by way of my best
defense, _I_ turned on her all the power of my magnetic eye. We have all
of us heard of the wonderful power of the magnetic human eye. Yes, _we_
have, but apparently this old Bear had not, for she came on just the
same. She gave a low woof, and I was about to abandon all attempts at
dignity, and run for the hotel; but just at this turning-point the old
Bear stopped, and gazed at me calmly.
Then she faced about and waddled over to the tree, up which were the
cubs. Underneath she stood, looking first at me, then at her family. I
realized that she wasn't going to bother me, in fact she never seemed
very serious about it, so I plucked up courage. I remembered what I came
for and got down my camera. But when I glanced at the sky, and gauged
the light--near sundown in the woods--I knew the camera would not serve
me; so I got out my sketch book instead, and made the sketch which is
given on Plate XXXVIII; I have not changed it since.
[Illustration: XLI. While I sketched the Bears a brother camera hunter
was stalking me without my knowledge
_Photo by F. Linde Ryan, Flushing, L. I._]
[Illustration: XLII. One meets the Bears at nearly every turn in the
woods
_Photo by E. T. Seton_]
Meanwhile the old Bear had been sizing me up, and evidently made up her
mind that, "although that human being might be all right, she would take
no chances for her little ones."
[Illustration]
She looked up to her two hopefuls, and gave a peculiar whining "_Er-r-r
er-r_," whereupon, like obedient children, they jumped as at the word of
command. There was nothing about them heavy or bear-like as commonly
understood; lightly they swung from bough to bough till they dropped to
the ground, and all went off together into the woods.
I was much tickled by the prompt obedience of these little Bears. As
soon as their mother told them to do something they did it. They did not
even offer a suggestion. But I also found out that there was a good
reason back of it, for, had they not done as she had told them, they
would have got such a spanking as would have made them howl. Yes, it is
quite the usual thing, I find, for an old Blackbear to spank her little
ones when in her opinion they need it, and she lays it on well. She has
a good strong paw, and does not stop for their squealing; so that one
correction lasts a long time.
This was a delightful peep into Bear home-life, and would have been well
worth coming for, if the insight had ended there. But my friends in the
hotel said that that was not the best place for Bears. I should go to
the garbage-heap, a quarter-mile off in the forest. There, they said, I
surely could see as many Bears as I wished, which was absurd of them.
THE DAY AT THE GARBAGE PILE
[Illustration]
Early next morning I equipped myself with pencils, paper and a camera,
and set out for the garbage pile. At first I watched from the bushes,
some seventy-five yards away, but later I made a hole in the odorous
pile itself, and stayed there all day long, sketching and snapshotting
the Bears which came and went in greater numbers as the day was closing.
A sample of my notes made on the spot will illustrate the continuity of
the Bear procession, yet I am told that there are far more of these
animals there to-day than at the time of my visit.
Those readers who would follow my adventures in detail will find them
fully and exactly set forth in the story of Johnny Bear, which appears
in "Lives of the Hunted," so I shall not further enlarge on them here,
except to relate one part which was omitted, as it dealt with a
photographic experience.
[Illustration]
In the story I told how, backed by a mounted cowboy, I sat on the
garbage pile while the great Grizzly that had worsted Old Grumpy, came
striding nearer, and looming larger.
[Illustration]
He had not quite forgotten the recent battle, his whole air was
menacing, and I had all the appropriate sensations as he approached. At
forty yards I snapped him, and again at twenty. Still he was coming, but
at fifteen feet he stopped and turned his head, giving me the side view
I wanted, and I snapped the camera again. The effect was startling. That
insolent, nagging little click brought the wrath of the Grizzly onto
myself. He turned on me with a savage growl. I was feeling just as I
should be feeling; wondering, indeed, if my last moment had not come,
but I found guidance in the old adage: "when you don't know a thing to
do, don't do a thing." For a minute or two the Grizzly glared, and I
remained still; then calmly ignoring me he set about his feast.
All of this I tell in detail in my story. But there was one thing I did
not dare to do then; that was show the snaps I made.
Surely it would be a wonderful evidence of my courage and coolness if I
could show a photograph of that big Grizzly when he was coming on--maybe
to kill me--I did not know, but I had a dim vision of my sorrowing
relatives developing the plate to see how it happened, for I pressed
the button at the right time. The picture, such as it is, I give as
Plate XL, c. I was so calm and cool and collected that I quite forgot to
focus the camera.
LONESOME JOHNNY
[Illustration]
During all this time Johnny had been bemoaning his sad lot, at the top
of the tree; there I left him, still lamenting. That was the last I ever
saw of him. In my story of Johnny Bear, I relate many other adventures
that were ascribed to him, but these were told me by the men who lived
in the Park, and knew the lame cub much better than I did. My own
acquaintance with him was all within the compass of the one day I spent
in the garbage-pile.
It is worthy of note that although Johnny died that autumn, they have
had him every year ever since; and some years they have had two for the
satisfaction of visitors who have read up properly before coming to the
Park. Indeed, when I went back to the Fountain Hotel fifteen years
afterward, a little Bear came and whined under my window about dawn, and
the hotel folk assured me it was Little Johnny calling on his creator.
FURTHER ANNALS OF THE SANCTUARY
All of this was fifteen years ago. Since then there have been some
interesting changes, but they are in the line of growth. Thirteen
Bears in view at one time was my highest record, and that after sundown;
but I am told that as many as twenty or twenty-five Bears are now to be
seen there at once in June and July, when the wildwood foods are scarce.
Most of them are Blackbears, but there are always a few Grizzlies about.
[Illustration: XLIII. The shyer ones take to a tree, if one comes too
near
_Photo by E. T. Seton_]
[Illustration: XLIV. Clifford B. Harmon feeding a Bear
_Photo by E. T. Seton_]
In view of their reputation, their numbers and the gradual removal of
the restraining fear of men, one wonders whether these creatures are not
a serious menace to the human dwellers of the Park. The fundamental
peacefulness of the unhungry animal world is wonderfully brought out by
the groups of huge shaggy monsters about the hotels.
At one time, and for long it was said, and truthfully, that the Bears in
the Park had never abused the confidence man had placed in them. But one
or two encounters have taken place to prove the exception.
An enthusiastic camera-hunter, after hearing of my experiences at the
garbage pile, went there some years later, duly equipped to profit by
the opportunity.
[Illustration]
A large she Bear, with a couple of cubs appeared, but they hovered at a
distance and did not give the artist a fair chance. He waited a long
time, then seeing that they would not come to him, he decided to go to
them. Quitting that sheltering hole, he sneaked along; crouching low and
holding the camera ready, he rapidly approached the family group. When
the young ones saw this strange two-legged beast coming threateningly
near them, they took alarm and ran whining to their mother. All her
maternal wrath was aroused to see this smallish, two-legged, one-eyed
creature, evidently chasing her cubs to harm them. A less combination
than that would have made her take the war-path, and now she charged.
She struck him but once; that was enough. His camera was wrecked, and
for two weeks afterward he was in the hospital, nursing three broken
ribs, as well as a body suffering from shock.
There was another, an old Grizzly that became a nuisance about the
hotels, as he did not hesitate to walk into the kitchens and help
himself to food. Around the tents of campers he became a terror, as he
soon realized that these folk carried food, and white canvas walls
rising in the woods were merely invitations to a dinner ready and
waiting. It is not recorded that he hurt any one in his numerous raids
for food. But he stampeded horses and broke the camp equipments, as well
as pillaged many larders.
[Illustration]
One of my guides described a lively scene in which the Bear, in spite of
blazing brands, ran into the cook's quarters and secured a ham. The cook
pursued with a stick of firewood. At each whack the Bear let off a
"whoof" but he did not drop the ham, and the party had to return to Fort
Yellowstone for supplies.
Incidents of this kind multiplied, and finally Buffalo Jones, who was
then the Chief Scout of the Park, was permitted to punish the old
sinner. Mounted on his trained saddle-horse, swinging the lasso that has
caught so many different kinds of beasts in so many different lands, the
Colonel gave chase. Old Grizzly dodged among the pines for a while, but
the pony was good to follow; and when the culprit took to open ground,
the unerring lasso whistled in the air and seized him by the hind paw.
It takes a good rope to stand the jerk of half a ton of savage muscle,
but the rope was strong; it stood, and there was some pretty
manoeuvring, after which the lasso was found over a high branch, with a
couple of horses on the "Jones end" and they hauled the Bear aloft
where, through the medium of a stout club, he received a drubbing that
has become famous in the moving-picture world.
[Illustration]
Another of these big, spoiled babies was sent to Washington Zoo, where
he is now doing duty as an exhibition Grizzly.
The comedy element is far from lacking in this life; in fact, it is
probably the dominant one. But the most grotesque story of all was told
me by a friend who chummed with the Bears about ten years ago.
One day, it seems, a Blackbear more tame than usual went right into the
bar-room of one of the hotels. The timid floating population moved out;
the bar-keep was cornered, but somewhat protected by his bar; and when
the Bear reared up with both paws on the mahogany, the wily "dispenser"
pushed a glass of beer across, saying nervously, "Is that what you are
after?"
The Bear liked the smell of the offering, and, stooping down, lapped up
the whole glassful, and what was spilt he carefully licked up afterward,
to the unmeasured joy of the loafers who peeped in at doors and windows,
and jeered at the bar-keep and his new customer.
"Say, bar-keep, who's to pay?" "Don't you draw any color line?" "If I
come in a fur coat, will you treat me?" "No! you got to scare him to
drink free," etc., etc., were examples of their remarks.
Whatever that Bear came for, she seemed satisfied with what she got,
for she went off peaceably to the woods, and was seen later lying asleep
under a tree. Next day, however, she was back again. The scene in the
bar-room was repeated with less intensity.
[Illustration]
On the third and fourth days she came as before, but on the fifth day
she seemed to want something else. Prompted by a kindred feeling, one of
the loafers suggested that "She wants another round." His guess was
right, and having got it, that abandoned old Bear began to reel, but she
was quite good-natured about it, and at length lay down under a table,
where her loud snores proclaimed to all that she was asleep--beastly
drunk, and asleep--just like one of the lords of creation.
From that time on she became a habitual frequenter of the bar-room. Her
potations were increased each month. There was a time when one glass of
beer made her happy, but now it takes three or four, and sometimes even
a little drop of something stronger. But whatever it is, it has the
desired effect, and "Swizzling Jinnie" lurches over to the table, under
which she sprawls at length, and tuning up her nasophone she sleeps
aloud, and unpeacefully, demonstrating to all the world that after all a
"Bear is jest a kind o' a man in a fur coat." Who can doubt it that
reads this tale, for it is true; at least it was told me for the truth,
by no less an authority than one of Jennie's intimate associates at the
bar-room.
THE GRIZZLY AND THE CAN
When one remembers the Grizzly Bear as the monarch of the mountains, the
king of the plains, and the one of matchless might and unquestioned sway
among the wild things of the West, it gives one a shock to think of him
being conquered and cowed by a little tin can. Yet he was, and this is
how it came about.
A grand old Grizzly, that was among the summer retinue of a Park hotel,
was working with two claws to get out the very last morsel of some
exceptionally delicious canned stuff. The can was extra strong, its
ragged edges were turned in, and presently both toes of the Bear were
wedged firmly in the clutch of that impossible, horrid little tin trap.
The monster shook his paw, and battered the enemy, but it was as sharp
within as it was smooth without, and it gripped his paw with the fell
clutch of a disease. His toes began to swell with all this effort and
violence, till they filled the inner space completely. The trouble was
made worse and the paw became painfully inflamed.
All day long that old Grizzly was heard clumping around with that
dreadful little tin pot wedged on his foot. Sometimes there was a loud
succession of _clamp, clamp, clamp's_ which told that the enraged
monarch with canned toes was venting his rage on some of the
neighbouring Blackbears.
The next day and the next that shiny tin maintained its frightful grip
on the Grizzly, who, limping noisily around, was known and recognized as
"Can-foot." His comings and goings to and from the garbage heap, by day
and by night, were plainly announced to all by the clamp, clamp, clamp
of that maddening, galling tin. Some weeks went by and still the
implacable meat box held on.
The officer in charge of the Park came riding by one day; he heard the
strange tale of trouble, and saw with his own eyes the limping Grizzly,
with his muzzled foot. At a wave of his hand two of the trusty scouts of
the Park patrol set out with their ponies and whistling lassoes on the
strangest errand that they, or any of their kind, had ever known. In a
few minutes those wonderful raw-hide ropes had seized him and the
monarch of the mountains was a prisoner bound. Strong shears were at
hand. That vicious little can was ripped open. It was completely filled
now with the swollen toes. The surgeon dressed the wounds, and the
Grizzly was set free. His first blind animal impulse was to attack his
seeming tormenters, but they were wise and the ponies were bear-broken;
they easily avoided the charge, and he hastened to the woods to recover,
finally, both his health and his good temper, and continue about the
Park, the only full-grown Grizzly Bear, probably, that man ever captured
to help in time of trouble, and then set loose again to live his life in
peace.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: XLV. The Bears at feeding time
_Photos by F. Jay Haynes_]
[Illustration: XLVI. (a) Tom Newcomb pointing out the bear's mark.
_Photo by E. T. Seton_
(b) E. T. Seton feeding a Bear. _Photo by C. B. Harmon_]
* * * * *
Appendix
Mammals of the Yellowstone Park
* * * * *
Appendix
Mammals of the Yellowstone Park
A LIST OF THE SPECIES FOUND IN THE PARK IN 1912
BY ERNEST THOMPSON SETON
_With assistance from the U. S. Biological Survey, and Colonel L. M.
Brett, in charge of the Park._
Elk or Wapiti (_Cervus canadensis_)
Abundant. By actual official count, and estimate of stray
bands, they number at least 35,000, of which about 5,000
winter in the Park.
Mule Deer or Rocky Mt. Blacktail (_Odocoileus heminus_)
Common. The official census gives their number at 400, of
which at least 100 winter about Fort Yellowstone.
Whitetail Deer (_Odocoileus virginianus macrourus_)
A few found about Gardiner, on Willow Creek, on Indian
Creek, at Crevasse Mt. and in Cottonwood Basin. The official
census gives their number at 100.
Moose (_Alces americanus_)
Formerly rare, now abundant in all the southerly third of
the Park. In 1897 they were estimated at 50. The official
census gives their number at 550 in 1912.
Antelope or Pronghorn (_Antilocapra americana_)
Formerly abundant, now rare; found only in broad open places
such as Lamar Valley, etc. Their numbers have shrunk from
many thousands in the '70's to about 1,500 in 1897, and 500
in 1912.
Mountain Sheep or Bighorn (_Ovis canadensis_)
Formerly rare, now common about Mt. Evarts, Mt. Washburn and
the western boundary. In 1897 there were about 100, perhaps
only 75; in 1912 they are reported numbering 210 by actual
count.
American Buffalo or Bison (_Bison bison_)
Steadily increasing. In 1897 there were about 30; they now
number 199 by actual count. These are in two herds, of 49
wild, and 150 in the fenced corrals.
Richardson Red-squirrel (_Sciurus hudsonicus richardsoni_)
Abundant in all pine woods.
Northern Chipmunk (_Eutamias quadrivittatus luteiventris_)
Extremely abundant everywhere.
Least Chipmunk (_Eutamias minimus pictus_)
Common about Mammoth Hot Springs.
Golden Ground-squirrel (_Citellus lateralis cinerascens_)
Common.
Picket-pin Ground-squirrel (_Citellus armatus_)
Abundant on all level prairies.
Prairie-dog (_Cynomys ludovicianus_)
Gen. Geo. S. Anderson told me long ago that the
Prairie-dogs, so abundant on the Lower Yellowstone, were
sometimes seen as far up as the Park at Gardiner.
[Illustration: XLVII. Johnnie Bear: his sins and his troubles
_Sketches by E. T. Seton_]
[Illustration: XLVIII. Johnnie happy at last
_Photo by Miss L. Griscom_]
Yellow Woodchuck, Rock Chuck or Marmot (_Marmota flaviventer_)
Abundant on all mountains.
Rocky Mt. Flying Squirrel (_Sciuropterus alpinus_)
Said to be found. I did not see one.
Beaver (_Castor canadensis_)
Abundant and increasing.
Grasshopper Mouse (_Onychomys leucogaster_)
I found a typical colony of this species on the Yellowstone
near Yancey's but did not secure any.
Mountain Deer-mouse (_Peromyscus maniculatus artemisiae_)
Abundant everywhere.
Mountain Rat, Pack-rat or Wood-rat (_Neotoma cinerea_)
Said to be found, but I saw none.
Redbacked Vole or Field-mouse (_Evotomys gapperi galei_)
Not taken yet in the Park but found in all the surrounding
country, therefore, probable.
Common Field-mouse (_Microtus pennsylvannicus modestus_)
Recorded by Vernon Bailey from Lower Geyser Basin in the
Park.
Long-tailed Vole (_Microtus mordax_)
Vernon Bailey records this from various surrounding
localities, also from Tower Falls. Doubtless it is generally
distributed. This is the bobtailed, short-eared, dark gray
mouse that is found making runs in the thick grass,
especially in low places.
Big-footed Vole (_Microtus richardsoni macropus_)
Not yet taken in the Park, but found in surrounding
mountains, therefore probable.
Muskrat (_Fiber zibethicus osoyoosensis_)
Common and of general distribution.
Mole-gopher or Gray Gopher (_Thomomys talpoides_)
A Gopher of some kind abounds in the Park. I assume it to be
this.
Rocky Mt. Jumping Mouse (_Zapus princeps_)
Found in all the surrounding country, and recorded by E. A.
Preble from near Yellowstone Lake.
Yellow-haired Porcupine (_Erethizon epixanthus_)
Somewhat common in the pine woods on the Continental Divide.
Coney, Rock Rabbit, Pika, or Calling Hare (_Ochotona princeps_)
Abundant in all slide rock.
Rocky Mt. Cottontail (_Sylvilagus nuttalli grangeri_)
Plentiful about Gardiner and in some of the lower regions of
the Park, but not general.
Snowshoe Rabbit (_Lepus bairdi_)
Common and generally distributed.
White-tailed Jack Rabbit (_Lepus campestris_)
Common and generally distributed.
Mountain Lion, Cougar or Puma (_Felis hippolestes_)
In 1897 it was considered extremely rare; probably not more
than a dozen were then living in the Park; since then it
seems to have increased greatly and is now somewhat common
in the mountainous parts. Their numbers are given officially
at 100 in 1912.
Canada Lynx (_Lynx canadensis_)
Common.
Bobcat or Mountain-cat (_Lynx uinta_)
Somewhat common.
The Big-tailed Fox (_Vulpes macrourus_)
Common.
Timber Wolf (_Canis occidentalis_)
Very rare, noticed only at Hell Roaring Creek and Slough
Creek. On August 25, 1912, Lieut. M. Murray saw two in a
meadow two miles southeast of Snow Shoe Cabin on Slough
Creek. They were plainly seen in broad daylight; and were
nearly white.
Coyote (_Canis latrans_)
Abundant everywhere, although officially reckoned they
numbered only 400 in 1912.
Otter (_Lutra canadensis_)
Common, particularly around the Lake and the Canyon.
Mink (_Lutreola vison energumenos_)
Common.
Long-tailed Weasel (_Putorius longicauda_)
Said to be found. I did not see any.
Short-tailed Weasel (_Putorius cicognanii_)
Included because its range includes the Park.
Marten (_Mustela caurina_)
Found throughout the Park, but not common.
Pekan or Fisher (_Mustela pennanti_)
Rare. Gen. G. S. Anderson tells me that in the early '90's
he took the skin of one from a poacher.
Wolverine (_Gulo luscus_)
Of general distribution, but not common.
Northern Skunk (_Mephitis hudsonica_)
Rare, but found at Mammoth Hot Springs and Yancey's.
Badger (_Taxidea taxus_)
Common.
Raccoon or Coon (_Procyon lotor_)
Said to occur. Fifteen years ago at Gardiner I was shown one
that was said to have been taken in the Park, but it was not
certain.
Grizzly Bear (_Ursus horribilis_)
Common. The official count gives 50 in 1912.
Blackbear (_Ursus americanus_)
Abundant and increasing. The official count gives 100 in
1912.
Common or Masked Shrew (_Sorex personatus_)
Never taken, but included because its known range surrounds
the Park.
Marsh Shrew or Water Shrew (_Neosorex palustris_)
Probably occurs there, since its known range surrounds the
Park.
Long-eared Bat (_Corynorhinus macrotis pallescens_)
A few were seen in the Devil's Kitchen, Mammoth Hot Springs,
and one sent to the Biological Survey for identification.
This is the only Bat taken, but the following are likely to
be found, as their known range surrounds the Park:
Little Brown Bat (_Myotis lucifugus_)
Silver-haired Bat (_Lasionycteris noctivagans_)
Big Brown Bat (_Eptesicus fuscus_)
Great Hoary Bat (_Nycteris cinereus_)
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes
Bold text is indicated by equal symbols: =text=.
Italic text is indicated by underscores: _text_.
Moved some illustrations from their original positions to avoid
breaking up paragraphs of text. The List of Half-tone Plates displays
the original page numbers. Some apparently missing plates may have
been edited out of the original version.
Corrected minor punctuation errors.
Page 61: Clomb could be a typo for climb:
(rush as they might and did, and bounded and clomb,)
Page 123: Changed pased to passed:
(men had passed near)
Page 155: Changed Bitteroot to Bitterroot:
(This took place in the Bitterroot Mountains)
Page 157: Added missing exclamation point:
(I heard the dreaded cry, "Yellow-Jackets!")
Page 165: Changed conspicious to conspicuous:
(might otherwise make it too conspicuous.)
Page 176: Changed inclinded to inclined:
(travellers will be inclined to bunch them)
Page 196: Changed go to to:
(We went quietly to the edge of the timber)
Page 210: Plate XL was not included in the original book.
(The picture, such as it is, I give as Plate XL, c.)
Page 213: Manoeuvring had an oe ligature in the original book:
(it stood, and there was some pretty manoeuvring,)
End of Project Gutenberg's Wild Animals at Home, by Ernest Thompson Seton