Riding a lazy pony slowly, silently, along a trail in the San Juan Mountains, I came close upon a grizzly and three cubs. They aroused the deep emotional nature of my pony. He took on new and fiery life, and in his eagerness to reach a high mountain across the canon he forgot all about the topography--the canon that lay deep between. While he was standing on one hind foot on the edge of the canon I leaped from the saddle. The old bear and cubs, forgetting all possible danger, while he was thus performing stood up to watch the entire exhibition.

A grizzly keeps an eye on near-by animals, often without appearing to do so. But if the animal is doing something new or unusual he gives it his entire attention. Two bears, side by side, are interested in the same thing; yet the individuality of each will show if you watch them a minute. Of course, all bears are not equally curious about the same thing, but seldom do I recall outwitting a bear even when appealing to his curiosity, and never could I cla.s.s him as stupid.

Grizzlies in regions just invaded by white men appear to have put in much time trying to make out what these strange creatures were about.

What man is doing is ever of first importance to the long-lived grizzly.

His interest in his surroundings appears to be greater than that of the average person. At any rate, the grizzly shows better knowledge of the habits of human beings than people have of the habits of bears.

His is not the curiosity of the idle; the grizzly is not prying into the affairs of others for mere pastime, but is concerned only so far as these affairs may benefit or harm him. His is the intelligent curiosity of a mind seeking facts. Most of the time he leads a solitary life; he rarely exchanges ideas or information with other bears. Most animals live in pairs or flocks and, each gathering information for all, they divide sentinel duty; but single-handed the grizzly must get the news, must scout for himself. He is ever on the watch, does nothing blindly, and he simply must understand.

Any unusual occurrence arouses a grizzly's curiosity, and is to him "a word to the wise." His success lies in constant alertness. He might well be likened to a frontiersman; he has that painstaking vigilance, that untiring energy, which seeks to discover whether this strange track, sound, or displacement is the camouflage which conceals the enemy or if it be a clue which will lead to something of advantage. He at once endeavors to find out all that may be learned about it.

The grizzly bear may have inherited a love for exploration. His ancestors were adventurers, coming to this continent from Asia. The natural attraction which the new and unusual has for him may generally be gratified in his curiosity about things at home. But we may readily imagine that the grizzly must sometimes become restless when there is nothing stirring near by, when he finds no excitement in his home territory, and so wanders like an explorer to seek discoveries in far-off scenes. He is innately an adventurer; he seeks adventure and often finds it. His curiosity does not allow him to live in a rut--to live contentedly with old conditions. He is always learning; he keeps alive and growing.

The grizzly bear simply cannot be understood, nor half understood, if his curiosity is not considered. Notice a grizzly bear pet, observe a grizzly in a zoo, watch both the cubs and the old grizzlies in the Yellowstone and Glacier National Parks. They walk about like superior animals, which they are. Those in parks ever notice any sudden movement, any new figure in the foreground, and detect any unusual noise that comes from far away behind the woods. The grizzly bear and the scout are masters of woodcraft through intensive observation. Behind the word curiosity the grizzly bear has put a world of meaning.

The wild grizzly shows a deeper feeling for the scenes, the sounds, and the movements around him than any other animal that I have watched.

Sometimes, while thus interested, he sits on haunches like a dog, again he stands on all fours, at other times he stands on hind feet, tiptoe, and, on rare occasions, he sits on his tail with fore paws against his breast, perhaps leaning against something. Once in a while he gives full attention while lying down.

When looking at scenery and sunsets, his appearance is one of enjoyment; he appears to have feeling in the conscious presence of that which we call beautiful or glorious. I have seen a grizzly looking at a magnificent and many-colored sunset, completely absorbed. There was no fear at a flash of lightning or the roar and echoing roll of thunder.

Once I saw a grizzly turn to stare at the course of a shooting star; another gazed for seconds at a brilliant rainbow.

Generally the grizzly's attention to these demonstrations rose superior to commonplace curiosity; he looked long, he listened closely, he was absorbed, and he appeared to feel as he sat lost in wonder. Had he been a child, with the power of speech, he certainly would have asked questions. Often his expression, his att.i.tude, indicated that he was saying to himself: "What was that? What caused it? Where did that noise come from? What are those strange shadows running from, and how can they move without a sound?"

On the Defensive

In the grizzly bear we have the leading animal of North America, and one who might well be put at the head of the wild life of the earth. He has brain and brawn. He is self-contained and is prepared for anything. He makes an impressive appearance. He looks capable. He has bulk, agility, strength, endurance, repose, courage, enthusiasm, and curiosity. He is a masterful fighter if forced to defend himself.

But, a century ago, fifty years ago, or to-day, one could ramble the grizzly's territory in safety--unless attempting to kill a grizzly. The grizzly objects to being killed. If he is surprised or crowded so that he sees no escape, if the cubs are in danger or the mother thinks they are, or if the bear is wounded, there will be a fight or a retreat; and the grizzly will not be the one retreating. Almost every animal--wild or domestic--will fight if cornered or if he thinks himself cornered.

Before the days of the repeating rifle the grizzly boldly wandered over his domain as absolute master; there was nothing for him to fear; not an aggressive foe existed. But, being ever curious, he hastened to examine whatever interested him. The novel outfit of Lewis and Clark, which appears to have attracted unusual attention even from frontier people, must naturally have aroused the highest pitch of interest in the numbers of bears congregated in places along the river. There were boats of odd type,--some with sails,--strange cargoes, men in picturesque accoutrements, and even a colored man. The frequent close approaches which the bears made in trying to satisfy their curiosity caused Lewis and Clark to think them ferocious.

But is the grizzly bear ferocious? All the firsthand evidence I can find says he is not. Speaking from years of experience with him my answer is emphatically, "No!" Nearly every one whom a grizzly has killed went out with the special intention of killing a grizzly. The majority of people who hold the opinion that he is not ferocious are those who have studied him without attempting to kill him; while the majority who say that he is ferocious are those who have killed or attempted to kill him.

During the greater part of my life I have lived in a grizzly bear region. I have camped for months alone and without a gun in their territory. I have seen them when alone and when with hunters, in Colorado, Utah, Arizona, Mexico, Wyoming, Montana, Idaho, Washington, British Columbia, and Alaska. I have spent weeks trailing and watching grizzlies, and their tracks in the snow showed that they often trailed me. They frequently came close, and there were times when they might have attacked me with every advantage. But they did not do so. As they never made any attack on me, nor on any one else that I know of who was not bent on killing them, I can only conclude that they are not ferocious.

Once I was running down a Wyoming mountainside, leaping fallen fire-killed timber, when suddenly I surprised a grizzly by landing within a few feet of him. He leaped up and struck at me with sufficient force to have almost cut me in two had the blow landed. Then he instantly fled. This, however, was not ferocity. Plainly he thought himself attacked and struck in self-defense.

There are many naturalists and frontiersmen who affirm from first-hand experience that the grizzly is not ferocious, and following are given a number of quotations from a few of these men.

John Muir, who spent about forty years in the wilderness home of the grizzly bear, from 1868 to 1912, usually camped alone and never carried firearms. He has repeatedly called attention in his books to the wilderness as a place of safety, and has mentioned that grizzly bears are masters in attending to their own affairs; also that bears have effectively suggested to wilderness visitors to do likewise. In "Our National Parks" Muir says:--

"In my first interview with a Sierra bear we were frightened and embarra.s.sed, both of us, but the bear's behavior was better than mine.... After studying his appearance as he stood at rest, I rushed forward to frighten him, that I might study his gait in running.

But, contrary to all I had heard about the shyness of bears, he did not run at all; and when I stopped short within a few steps of him, as he held his ground in a fighting att.i.tude, my mistake was monstrously plain. I was put on my good behavior, and never afterwards forgot the right manners of the wilderness."

Muir also says, in "Steep Trails":--

"There are bears in the woods, but not in such numbers nor of such unspeakable ferocity as town-dwellers imagine, nor do bears spend their lives in going about the country like the devil, seeking whom they may devour. Oregon bears, like most others, have no liking for man either as meat or as society; and while some may be curious at times to see what manner of creature he is, most of them have learned to shun people as deadly enemies."

Mr. William H. Wright spent most of his time from 1883 to 1908 as a hunter of wild animals, and especially as a hunter of the grizzly. In addition to being an observer of exceptional care while hunting and trapping, he spent some years in photographing grizzlies. He first studied them in order to hunt them successfully; then laid aside his rifle and hunted them to study them. From full acquaintance with the grizzly Mr. Wright declares that he is not ferocious. He offers the following comment concerning his curiosity--a trait which early explorers mistook for ferocity:--

"We know now that the grizzly is chock-full of curiosity, and that one of his habits is to follow up any trail that puzzles or interests him, be it of man or beast. This trait has been noted and misconstrued by many.... So often have I seen this curiosity and proved it to be innocent that I have no fear whatever of these animals when indulging in this weakness of theirs. Time and again I have allowed one to approach within a few yards of me, and no calm observer who had watched a bear defying his own caution to satisfy his own inquisitiveness could mistake the nature of his approach."

Drummond, the botanist, had numerous experiences with grizzlies in the Rocky Mountains in 1826. He was familiar with their curiosity. He says that often they came close and stood up to look at him. But if he made a noise with his specimen-box, or "even waved his hand," they ran away.

James Capen Adams hunted and trapped big game from 1849 to 1859 in California and along the Pacific Coast. He captured numerous grizzlies, both old and young, and literally domesticated them. He discusses their characteristics at length. He knew them intimately, and in summing them up after years of close a.s.sociation he says of the grizzly, "He did not invite combat."

Kit Carson, another frontiersman of long experience with grizzlies, in writing of them does not call them ferocious.

Dr. W. T. Hornaday knows the grizzly in the wilds and has long and intimately known him in the zoo. In "The American Natural History" Dr.

Hornaday has the following:--

"I have made many observations on the temper of the Grizzly Bear, and am convinced that naturally the disposition of this reputedly savage creature is rather peaceful and good-natured. At the same time, however, no animal is more prompt to resent an affront or injury, or punish an offender. The Grizzly temper is defensive, not aggressive; and unless the animal is cornered, or _thinks he is cornered_, he always flees from man."

The early explorers were warned by the Indians that the grizzly was "an awful and ferocious animal." All the early writers had the preconceived belief that the grizzly was ferocious. Many of these writers never saw a grizzly, but wrote down as fact the erroneous conclusions of the Indians. The few writers who did see a grizzly evidently judged him largely from these preconceived ideas. Even Lewis and Clark describe a number of the grizzly's actions and call him ferocious when the very actions which they describe simply show him as being curious, interested, or, at worst, excited at their strange appearance. They misinterpreted what actually happened.

A few sentences from Audubon well ill.u.s.trate the wrought-up frame of mind of many hunters and authors when hunting or writing about the grizzly. Audubon says:--

"While in the neighborhood where the grizzly bear may possibly be hidden, the excited nerves will cause the heart's pulsations to quicken if but a startled ground squirrel run past, the sharp click of the lock is heard and the rifle hastily thrown to the shoulder before a second of time has a.s.sured the hunter of the trifling cause of his emotion." This suggests emotion but not accuracy.

In summing up the animals of the North and West in 1790, Edward Umfreville wrote of the "red and the grizzle bear" that "their nature is savage and ferocious, their power dangerous, and their haunts to be guarded against."

In 1795 Sir Alexander MacKenzie recorded the following:--

"The Indians entertain great apprehension of this kind of a bear, which is called the grisly bear, and they never venture to attack it except in a party of least three or four."

Henry M. Brackenridge, author of "Views of Louisiana," wrote the following from hearsay:--

"This animal is the monarch of the country which he inhabitates. The African lion or the Bengal tiger are not more terrible than he. He is the enemy of man and literally thirsts for human blood. So far from shunning, he seldom fails to attack and even to hunt him. The Indians make war upon these ferocious monsters with ceremonies as they do upon a tribe of their own species, and, in the recital of their victories, the death of one of them gives the warrior greater renown than the scalp of an enemy. He possesses an amazing strength, and attacks without hesitation and tears to pieces the largest buffalo."

The first paragraph which Lewis and Clark wrote concerning the grizzly, April 29, 1805, says:

"We proceeded early, with a moderate wind. Captain Lewis, who was on sh.o.r.e with one hunter, met about eight o'clock two white bears. Of the strength and ferocity of this animal the Indians had given us dreadful accounts; they never attack him but in parties of six or eight persons, and even then are often defeated with a loss of one or more of the party. Having no weapons but bows and arrows, and the bad guns which the traders supply them, they are obliged to approach very near the bear, and as no wound except through the head or heart is fatal they frequently fall a sacrifice if they miss their aim. He rather attacks than avoids man, and such is the terror which he has inspired that the Indians who go in quest of him paint themselves and perform all the superst.i.tious rites customary when they make war on a neighboring nation. Hitherto those we had seen did not appear desirous of encountering us, but although to a skillful rifleman the danger is very much diminished, yet the white bear is still a terrible animal. On the approach of these two, both Captain Lewis and the hunter fired and each wounded a bear; one of them made his escape; the other turned upon Captain Lewis and pursued him seventy or eighty yards, but being badly wounded he could not run so fast as to prevent him reloading his piece, which he again aimed at him, and a third shot from the hunter brought him to the ground."

Below are two additional paragraphs from the Journal of Lewis and Clark.

These show that the grizzly was most wide-awake and curious, and also that he was not accustomed to being afraid.

"The bear which gave so much trouble on the head of the Missouri are equally fierce in this quarter. This morning one of them, which was on a sand-bar as the boat pa.s.sed, raised himself on his hind feet and after looking at the party, plunged in and swam towards them. He was received with three b.a.l.l.s in the body; he then turned around and made for the sh.o.r.e. Towards evening another entered the water to swim across. Captain Clark ordered the boat towards the sh.o.r.e, and just as the bear landed shot the animal in the head. It proved to be the largest female they had ever seen, and so old that its tusks were worn quite smooth."

"Just as he arrived near Willow Run, he approached a thicket of brush in which was a white bear, which he did not discover till he was within ten feet of him; his horse started, and wheeling suddenly round, threw M'Neal almost immediately under the bear, who started up instantly, and finding the bear raising himself on his hind feet to attack him, struck him on the head with the b.u.t.t end of his musket; the blow was so violent that it broke the breech of the musket and knocked the bear to the ground, and before he recovered, M'Neal, seeing a willow tree close by, sprang up, and there remained while the bear closely guarded the foot of the tree until late in the afternoon. He then went off, and M'Neal being released came down, and having found his horse, which had strayed off to the distance of two miles, returned to camp. These animals are, indeed, of a most extraordinary ferocity, and it is matter of wonder that in all our encounters we have had the good fortune to escape."

The grizzly was introduced to the world by Governor DeWitt Clinton of New York, who appears to have taken his information from the Journal of Lewis and Clark. In the course of an address before the Literary and Philosophical Society of New York City in 1814, he completely misinterpreted the real character of the grizzly and popularized a number of errors that not only were believed then but have survived to this day. The real grizzly is a distinguished character; but the grizzly as commonly described by tongue and story--well, "there ain't no such animal."

Governor Clinton in discussing the work in store for the coming naturalists said, "There is the white, brown, or grizzly bear, the ferocious tyrant of the American woods--it exists, the terror of the savages, the tyrant of all other animals, devouring alike man and beast and defying the attacks of a whole tribe of Indians." Few people realize to what extent these inaccurate words have discouraged outdoor life and how enormously they have contributed to the output of fict.i.tious nature writing.