The Indians had a profound respect for the fighting efficiency of the grizzly. When one of them killed a grizzly he triumphantly wore the claw as a medal for rare bravery. The grizzly has a head and a hide that the Indian could rarely penetrate with either an arrow or a spear. We may readily believe that the grizzly defied the attacks of "a whole tribe of Indians," as Governor DeWitt Clinton said. He would defy a whole tribe of Indians or a score of white men with similar weapons to-day. So, too, would the elephant, the African lion, or the tiger.
With the rifles used at the time of Lewis and Clark it was necessary for the hunter to approach close to the bear that the bullet might have sufficient velocity to penetrate a vital spot. The rifles being only single-shot, the hunter was exposed to the a.s.sault of the bear in case his aim missed or the shot was ineffective. It is not surprising that in most cases those attempting to kill the grizzly either were overpowered by him or succeeded only through force of numbers and with the loss of some of the a.s.sailants. But the ability of the grizzly to withstand such attacks and to defend himself has been confused with ferocity.
The grizzly is a fighting-machine of the first order and with the weapons of two or three generations ago he often sold his life most dearly. In a short time the grizzly had the reputation of being a terrible fighter, and along with this he was given the reputation of being ferocious--of being an awful hunter of man. For the grizzly to repel effectually those who went out to attack him is a very different thing from his going out to hunt and to attack people who were not molesting him. This latter he has never done.
The words of Umfreville, MacKenzie, Brackenridge, Clinton, and Lewis and Clark bring out strongly that the grizzly is a fighter, formidable, perhaps unequaled. Their opinion on this point is supported by ample first-hand testimony down through the years, from all over the grizzly territory. But it has not been established that the grizzly is ferocious, is seeking to kill. No, the grizzly does not look for a fight; he is for peace at almost any price.
The grizzly fights in self-defense; men do the same. A man is not criminal for fighting in self-defense; neither is a grizzly. For this self-defense fighting the grizzly should not be put in the criminal cla.s.s. "The worm will turn," is an old saying. All animals fight in self-defense, some more quickly than others. Few ever succeed against man; the grizzly often does. Apparently the effective self-defense of the grizzly is responsible for his criminal reputation.
It is common for those who believe that the grizzly is ferocious to believe also that he eats human flesh. There is no known instance of his having done so.
We are now hearing that the Alaska bears are especially ferocious. Yet, in Alaska at the present time, and for many years in the past, the bear trails are concealed as much as possible by being in the woods. This would prevent the bear on the trail being readily seen by man. Along the sea, where much bear food is cast ash.o.r.e, the trails are not upon the open beach but some distance away behind the trees. The bears depend on scent to tell them if there is anything along the sh.o.r.e to eat. Both their trails and their daily life in Alaska conclusively show that their chief concern is to keep away from and out of sight of man.
The experience with bears in the Yellowstone Park demonstrates that the grizzly is not ferocious. The Park had a numerous grizzly population when it was made a wild-life reservation. The people who in increasing numbers visited the Park carried no fire-arms and they were not molested by the grizzlies. Yet grizzlies were all about. After some twenty years of this friendly a.s.sociation of people and grizzlies, a number of grizzlies, dyspeptic and demoralized from eating garbage, and annoyed by the teasing of thoughtless people, became cross and lately even dangerous. But these bears cannot be called ferocious. Eliminate the garbage-piles and cease hara.s.sing the bears, and they will again be friendly.
The grizzly bear has been a golden gift of the G.o.ds for the countless writers of highly colored alleged natural history. There is a type, too, of wild fiction-writers of the Captain Mayne Reid cla.s.s whose thrilling stories of the grizzly and other wilderness animals are purely fict.i.tious, and, though not even pretending to be fact, appear to have been taken seriously by thousands. So prolific and continuous has been the output of these writers that facts have been lost, and it is practically impossible for the average individual to know the real grizzly bear. This comes near to being the immortality of error. It is a national misfortune that the overwhelming majority of people should be imposed upon with erroneous natural history. The destiny of the human race is intimately tied up with nature, and for any one to misunderstand the simple facts which unite us with nature is to be out of harmony with the whole scheme of things. An accurate knowledge of natural history has an important place in guiding the judgments of our race.
Because of their intimate knowledge of the grizzly bear, James Capen Adams, William H. Wright, and Philip Ashton Rollins admired this animal.
It would be a glorious thing if every one appreciated the real character of the grizzly bear. A changed att.i.tude toward him--the great animal of the outdoors--might cause the wilderness to appeal to all as a friendly wonderland.
Man"s Loyal Companion
MISS GRIZZLY
Just as I reached the edge of the woods by a sawmill in the Medicine Bow Mountains, a young grizzly rushed at me as though to "chew me up." She frightened me for a second, but the next instant I realized that it was only a bluff.
"You are not polite to strangers," I said to her.
She stood still for a minute, looked at me quietly, and then began leaping and racing about me like an awkward puppy who has just made your acquaintance and is eager for play.
"Miss Grizzly" had been captured when a small cub, about a year and a half before, and raised by the foreman of the mill. The pet and favorite of all the men in camp, she had the freedom of the place, played with the visiting teamsters, and welcomed strangers. She was companionable with every one, but was n.o.body"s grizzly.
Early in her life at the mill she had learned to be afraid of the big buzzing saw. One day as she stood several feet away, either listening to the hum of the saw or watching the dust thrown from it, the saw chanced to strike a knot. A piece of this flew and struck Miss Grizzly solidly between the eyes, raising a lump. She was exceedingly wary of the saw after that. Although she ranged around it, she never risked going too close again. Often she leaped upon a log as it was starting on the carrier for the saw, but she never failed to leap off before getting as near the saw as she had been when struck by the flying chip.
A logger from several miles away who had come to remain at the mill for some time brought with him his pet black bear. All the men were a.s.sembled in the bunk-house to see the meeting of the two bears. Miss Grizzly was in the room when the black bear came in. The instant the black bear caught sight of Miss Grizzly he was "scared out of his wits."
He at once turned about and tried to run from the room. But haughty Miss Grizzly acted indifferently. Although she was much smaller than the black, there was no fear; she pretended that she had not seen him.
Ignoring him, she went out of the room by the rear door and began playing with one of the dogs.
[Ill.u.s.tration: A BLACK BEAR IN THE SEQUOIA NATIONAL PARK]
Miss Grizzly was ever independent, resourceful, and capable. One day a teamster handed her a bottle of catsup. Standing erect, she took it deftly in her fore paws. She was greatly interested in it--probably in the color. In turning it about she caught sight of a floating air-bubble. Inverting the bottle from end to end, she tried to make this out; she held it between her eyes and the light, she shook it back and forth close to her ear. Then, going directly to a near-by log, she brought the bottle down upon it and catsup splashed in all directions.
Her curiosity satisfied, she seemed to enjoy licking up the catsup.
The men never teased Miss Grizzly nor attempted to teach her any tricks.
Consequently her disposition was uniformly of the best. She enjoyed cartwheeling and liked to have the men start her with a little push down the slope near the mill. Curling her nose behind her toes, she rolled over and over. Occasionally she climbed upon the flat-roofed lumber-shed for the fun of rolling off. While she did much climbing over the logs and lumber-piles and on the low roofs, she did not attempt to climb a tree after the first few weeks she was at the mill.
She was never chained and she rambled about wherever she liked. She spent most of her time at the sawmill or close to it. Occasionally she followed one of the loggers off into the woods. Sometimes by the hour she would lie near where he was working, interested in the flying chips.
Sometimes she would go off on a little hunting-excursion, tear an old stump to pieces, or overturn rocks in search of ants and grubs. One day a tree in falling sent a shower of limbs all about Miss Grizzly, one of them apparently striking her. She was not injured, but, bawling like a frightened baby, she turned and ran for camp, and never again did she go to the woods with the logger.
Miss Grizzly was usually fed just outside the cook-house door. She preferred to eat in seclusion. But when especially hungry she came boldly into the dining-room while the men were eating. Walking round the table, she accepted whatever was offered her--and every one offered her something.
She was fond of the teamster who arrived twice a week with supplies and usually followed him homeward, running along behind the wagon. Now and then she preferred to ride close to him with her nose on his shoulder, sitting on her haunches like a big dog. Usually she went only two or three miles and then returned promptly home, but occasionally she lingered. One day, during her third summer at the mill, she followed the teamster as usual but did not return until in the night. After this she made an occasional excursion into the woods alone, sometimes being gone a day or two. One day, after an unusually long absence, she came back accompanied by another young grizzly.
Tracks in the dust showed that the stranger had hesitated to approach the mill. Within two or three hundred yards of it he had reared up, alert, as though he had scented or heard something alarming. Here and there in the road Miss Grizzly had evidently turned back to rea.s.sure him. Both finally came within a short distance of the mill, when at the appearance of one of the men the strange bear turned and fled.
The first winter Miss Grizzly did not offer to hibernate. She was fed regularly, and the men never thought of encouraging her to den up. But the second winter she slept three months. About the first of December she dug a den back into the side of the big sawdust pile and crawled in.
Two or three times during the winter the men wakened her, and she came to the mouth of the den and then returned to sleep. Once she came out for a few hours, but, though tempted, refused to eat. Ordinarily Miss Grizzly slept outside the sawmill, against one end of the building; but sometimes she spent the night beneath the edge of the slab-pile.
The third autumn at the mill Miss Grizzly made numerous excursions into the woods alone, and one day she went off on one from which she did not return.
BEN FRANKLIN
James Capen Adams, known as "Grizzly Adams," the celebrated hunter and trapper of wild American animals, was easily foremost for what he accomplished in showing the real character of the grizzly bear. His biography, "The Adventures of James Capen Adams," tells of his intelligent, sympathetic, and successful methods in handling grizzly bears, whether they were young or old. He made loyal companions of grizzlies and trained them so that they served him capably in a number of capacities. In the handling of these animals Adams studied their character. He was uniformly sympathetic, kind, calm, and firm. He endeavored to accomplish any desired end through gentleness and by appeal to the animal"s interest and loyalty. Force and torture, which so often are the chief equipment of animal-trainers, had no place in his methods.
The story of Ben Franklin and his bringing-up by Adams gives an excellent view of a real grizzly and an excellent master. Adams took Ben Franklin from a den when he was a tiny blind cub. At first he was fed on a mixture of water, flour, and sugar, and then Adams persuaded a greyhound which was nursing a puppy, Rambler, to suckle Ben. Ben, while nursing, was made to wear buckskin mittens to prevent his scratching his foster-mother. Ben and Rambler became lifelong companions, and when not asleep spent most of their time playing and tussling with each other.
Sometimes, when traveling through the mountains with them when they were still small, Adams would take them out of the wagon and allow them to play together. They chased each other over the gra.s.s or had merry races after rabbits, squirrels, or prairie-dogs. When older, they enjoyed traveling all day together on foot. On a number of occasions it was necessary for Ben to wear buckskin moccasins to protect his feet from the sharp rocks and the desert sand, and once, after he was much larger, his feet became so sore he was loaded into the wagon and hauled for a day or two.
Ben quickly outstripped his foster-brother in size, but, although very swift of foot, he was soon outrun by the greyhound. Several times Ben and Rambler came upon the fleet-footed antelope, which Rambler closely pursued for miles. Ben would usually race for half a mile or so, then, being unable to keep up with Rambler, would sit down, look around for a minute, and return to his master. For several years they followed Adams in his long hunting-trips across the mountains.
Adams sometimes tempted Ben by placing within his reach sc.r.a.ps of dainty food, but he was so well trained that he never touched any food until it was given to him. Often, when hungry, Ben would sit on his haunches near his master, occasionally looking up into his face and remonstrating if he did not receive attention.
When Ben became larger, Adams trained him as a pack-animal, and Ben carried the camp outfit and supplies on his back through the wilderness.
At other times he was used with Rambler in hunting, or when Adams was attacking a grizzly. Ben was once severely injured in a fight with a jaguar. He was not chained except when near a village, and then only for the safety of the excited dogs.
On one of his hunting-expeditions in the mountains of Oregon, Adams had what he considered one of the narrowest escapes of his life. He had with him as usual Rambler and Ben Franklin. While pa.s.sing through a thicket Adams came unexpectedly upon a mother grizzly with cubs. The mother bear at once knocked him down and began to chew him up. Ben Franklin had not heretofore seen one of his kin.
"What will Ben do?" thought Adams, "help me or join his own kind and also attack me?"
There was neither doubt nor hesitation in Ben"s mind. Though young and small, he went to the defense of his master against a grizzly five times his own size. So vigorously did Ben throw himself upon the big grizzly that she turned from Adams and vented her fury upon Ben. Though badly wounded, Adams was able with this opportunity to reach for his rifle and kill the grizzly.
Ben ran howling to camp. Adams, also frightfully injured, followed, and found Ben lying under the wagon licking his bleeding sides. So grateful was he to Ben for saving his life that he dressed the little bear"s wounds before giving attention to his own, and remained in camp several days, giving Ben every possible attention and opportunity to recover. We can understand his saying of Ben Franklin: "The most excellent of all beasts, as faithful as it is possible for any animal to be; Ben Franklin, the king of the forest, the flower of his race, my firmest friend."
The following tribute to Ben Franklin appeared in the San Francisco "Evening Bulletin" of January 19, 1858:--
"DEATH OF A DISTINGUISHED NATIVE CALIFORNIAN
"Ben Franklin, the grizzly bear, the favorite of the Museum man, Adams, the companion for the last three or four years of his various expeditions in the mountains and his sojourns in the cities and towns of California, departed from this mortal existence on Sunday evening, at 10 o"clock. The n.o.ble brute, which was captured at the head-waters of the Merced River in 1854, had been raised by his master from a cub, and during his life manifested the most indubitable indications of remarkable sagacity and affection. He was ever tame and gentle, and although possessed of the size and strength of a giant among brutes, was in disposition peaceful; rough it is true, in his playfulness, but always well disposed. He frequently carried his master"s pack, provisions and weapons; frequently shared his blanket and fed from the same loaf.
"One of his eyes was observed to be injured and several scars were to be seen about his head and neck; but they were honorable wounds and reflected as much credit upon poor Ben as the scars of a brave soldier. They were all received in the service of his human friend, protector and master. As might be supposed his loss has been severely felt by Adams."
MISS JIM AND MR. BESSIE