Part 10

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 reassure 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 grass 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 scraps 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 passing 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 noble 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

During many years in the West, Mr. Philip A. Rollins was an accurate and sympathetic observer of the grizzly bear. He knew him in various localities, and saw him under countless conditions. He hunted him with a gun and then without a gun. He raised grizzlies, kindly and intelligently. He is one of the highest authorities on the grizzly. He kindly wrote for me the following from his personal experience:--

"To one who knows and loves bears, Enos A. Mills, from one who loves them, Philip A. Rollins.

"One summer day, now almost thirty years ago, a cowboy, hunting from our Wyoming ranch, killed a female grizzly bear. Her two attendant cubs were brought to the ranch by the cowboy, an operation which decreased the value of his clothing, and lessened the quantity of his skin. The names of Jim and Bessie, hastily bestowed as the party, in part hauling and swearing, and in part twisting and growling, made its arrival, were, for the sake of accuracy, later changed to Miss Jim and Mr. Bessie.

"The youngsters were presently introduced to their sleeping quarters in the 'bear parlor,' an enclosure connecting with the main room of the ranch house by a doorway usually closed only with several curtains of heavy felt. Five black bears had their abode in the 'bear parlor' when the little grizzlies registered their advent--a registration effected by clawing and biting everybody and everything within reach. After a few days marked by pandemonium and the enticements of very frequent meals, Miss Jim and Mr. Bessie were the dictators of all the black bears and the friends of all the men; of all the men, save one,--he could not refrain from teasing. Months passed; the little grizzlies increased in strength. The teasing continued. One day a visiting surgeon set three ribs and an arm.

"Except for this research into human anatomy, nothing untoward happened until the end of four years. Meanwhile the two grizzlies had, at all times, come and gone at will into and out of the ranch house; had, whenever they desired, tidbits supplemental to their food; attended the ranch meals, perched in orderly fashion on a bench at the foot of the dining-table; and, after the first six months, made any excursion they wished, being absent from the ranch sometimes for several successive days, going thus either alone or as the companions of whatever man might have occasion to travel across country. These trips not infrequently made them adjuncts of a fishing-party, and on such occasions they were always content with their toll of the first four fish caught--two fish for each bear.

"No attempt was ever made to exact from the bears the performance of tricks. They were treated from the outset in the same manner as one would treat a well-trained hunting hound, save that special care was taken that they should be fed before approaching either the men's dining-table in the ranch house or the lunching group of a fishing-party. On their bench at the foot of the dining-table, they never were indecorous, never snatched at any food, but would sit in dignified silence until called by name. Upon the sound of its name, the invited bear would lumber down to the floor, shuffle along to the chair of the inviter, and, having been given and somewhat gently received, the promised confection, would promptly return to its seat. It is true that the returning bear would not infrequently in passing, give playful, if vigorous, pokes into the bodies of its fellows, but none of the blows were aimed at or reached a human being.

"The grizzlies were true companions, for they had all the affectionate faithfulness of the best of dogs, intelligence far beyond that of any horse, and endless sense of humor. As to intelligence, they repeatedly used their brains in a manner which perhaps is best exemplified by the following instance of another grizzly which I watched years ago: An animal which, discovering a half-filled food-can, and prevented by the semi-closed lid from touching the contents, takes a stone between its paws and smashes the lid, has claim to brains, even if that animal be only a bear.

"I have said that nothing untoward happened during the four years. On second thought, an untoward event did occur. One November, a quantity of freshly preserved blueberries had been obtained from the East. These berries were transformed into twenty-four large deep-dish pies, one for each man on the ranch. On the date of the anticipated feast, an entertainment at a neighboring camp depopulated the house, but did not degrizzly its environs. In the early evening of that day, the house was approached by a file of men, pie-bent, expectant, joyous. Two house logs pulled from without doors, bear-tracks done upon the snow in vivid blue, forewarned that twenty-four pies had passed into history.

"At the end of the four years, Miss Jim fell victim to poison, whether set for her or for wolves we never knew. Presently Mr. Bessie was once more teased, this time by a visiting ranchman. After the ranchman had been reassembled and revived, it was decided that the bear must be done for. He should not be killed. That smacked of murder. He should not be caged in a zoölogical garden. He had not sinned according to bear law. Accordingly it was agreed that he should be lost. He was led two hundred miles from the ranch and bidden to go his way. His return to the ranch preceded that of his keeper by eight hours. He was led to the mountains of Idaho, and the duration of his return journey not improbably is still the minimum record for that course. Finally two admirers conducted him to Oregon and there parted with him forever. The last view disclosed a cheerful expression as he contemplated two hams tied to a tree, partly for purposes of strategy and partly as a parting gift."

* * * * *

A real acquaintance with the grizzly bear appears to fill every one with admiration for him. Mr. William H. Wright, quoted elsewhere in this book, understood the grizzly thoroughly. His comprehensive book, "The Grizzly Bear," is dedicated with these words:--

"WITH THE RESPECT, ADMIRATION AND AFFECTION OF THE AUTHOR, TO THE NOBLEST WILD ANIMAL OF NORTH AMERICA, THE GRIZZLY BEAR."

New Environments

A rock fell from a high cliff and struck upon solid granite near a grizzly whom I was watching. There was a terrific crash and roar. Unmindful of the flying fragments and pieces bounding near, the grizzly reared up and pressed fore paws over his ears. Just as he was uncovering them the echo came thundering and booming back from a cliff across the lake. Again he hastily covered his ears with his paws to soften the ear-bursting crash.

On another occasion a wounded bear took refuge in a small thicket where the hunter was unable to get a shot at him. After failing to force the bear into the open, the hunter gave a wild, ear-splitting yell. With a growl of pain the bear at once chained furiously through the thicket toward the hunter.

A grizzly has supersensitive ears, and loud, harsh sounds give his nerves a harrowing shock. Through his higher development the grizzly probably suffers more intensely and enjoys more fully than other animals. The clashing city noises must be a never-ending irritation and torture to a bear who has been sentenced to end his days in a riotous environment. How he must yearn for the hush of the wilderness! And, as his sense of smell is also amazingly developed, perhaps he longs for a whiff of pine-spiced air and the wild, exquisite perfume of the violets.

Experience in many zoos has shown that subjecting caged grizzlies to close contact with people is usually cruelty to animals. Often they become cross, and a number of crowd-worried grizzlies have died prematurely from resultant apoplexy. Modern zoo bear-pens are constructed so that the bear is beyond the wiles of visitors--so that he can have much privacy--one of the needs of any grizzly. Perhaps we too often think of the bulky grizzly as being coarse and crude. But he is an animal of the highest type, sensitive, independent, and retiring. The normal bear is good-tempered and cheerful.

A grizzly placed in new environment in association with men will respond happily only to considerate handling and proper feeding. Tell me what a bear is fed and how, and I will tell you what the bear is--his disposition and health. A grizzly should be fed by no one except his keeper. If any one and every one feed a bear, he is likely to receive food that he ought not to eat and to have it given in a manner annoying to him. Feeding is the vital consideration for grizzly pets, for grizzlies in zoos, and for grizzlies in National Parks.

When I arrived in Colorado, in 1884, grizzlies were still common throughout the mountain areas of the State. They were numerous in a few rugged sections where there were but few people and plenty of food. In the Long's Peak region around my cabin, I early discovered the tracks of five grizzlies. One or two missing toes or some other peculiarity enabled me to determine the number. Two of these bears ranged near, and I had frequent glimpses of them.

During the autumn of one year, 1893 as I remember, I crossed the mountains between Trapper's Lake and Long's Peak. Snow covered most of the ground. During the eight days which this trip occupied I must have seen the tracks of between forty and forty-five grizzlies. I counted the tracks of eleven in one half-day. But grizzlies decreased in numbers rapidly. Numerous hunters came into the State annually. Stockmen and settlers hunted grizzlies for fun and for their hides, and professional hunters for revenue. Altogether, the grizzly had little chance for his life, and only a few survived.

In the settlement of the West many of the grizzlies had to go. Men came in with flocks of sheep and herds of cattle. The grizzlies' food was taken or driven off. Rarely did a grizzly kill any of the invading stock. Usually he worked harder for a living and took things philosophically. Many grizzlies were killed and a few sought homes elsewhere. But in the West there are still many wild regions, and in these there is room for the grizzly.

There is a wonderful unwritten story of the making of an empire--the Yellowstone--into a wildlife reservation. Big game had long been hunted in this region. The grizzly bear, since his discovery, had been relentlessly pursued; man with every conceivable contrivance was on his trail day and night; there was no quarter and no hope for peace. But suddenly firing ceased and pursuit stopped. This was epoch-marking. "What can it mean?" the grizzlies must have instantly asked. They must have asked it over and over again. But they quickly accepted it as a fact and as an advantage, and came forth to associate peacefully with man.

This has made a change worth while for man. Since shooting has stopped, thousands have seen the grizzly and enjoyed him where only one saw him before.

The grizzly is easily the most popular animal in the National Parks. He really is the greatest animal on the continent. The grizzly walks: there is a dignity, a lordliness of carriage, and an indifference to all the world that impress themselves on the attention. Some one speaks quietly to him: he halts, stands on hind legs, and shows a childlike eagerness of interest in his expressive face. His attitude and responsiveness are most companionable and never fail to awake the best in every one who sees him in these moments.

Some one told me the following amusing incident concerning a grizzly. In the southwest corner of Yellowstone Park a number of boys were bathing in a stream, when a young grizzly came along and for a moment stood watching their pranks. Then he slipped quietly behind some trees upon the bank of the stream. When the boys approached this spot, with a wild "Woof, woof," he leaped into the water among them. This caused great excitement and merriment, plainly just what he desired. As he swam hurriedly away, he looked back over his shoulder with satisfaction.

Another amusing incident also happened in the Yellowstone. As the stage arrived at the Cañon Hotel, one of the passengers, who had been having much to say concerning bears, put on his raincoat and got down on all fours, proceeding to impersonate a bear. While this demonstration was on a grizzly arrived. He made a rush at the man and chased him up a tree, amid laughter and excitement. The bear made no attempt to harm any one and plainly enjoyed this prank merely as a prank.

A grizzly mother in Yellowstone Park was catching trout for her cubs one June day of 1891, when a friend and I came along. We went near to watch them. Mother grizzly charged; we fled. After one leap she stood still and appeared to be almost grinning at us. We went back, she charged, and again we ran, although she stopped at the end of the first leap. But the third time she leaped at us we stood our ground. She growled but came no nearer. Although her threats did not appear to be in earnest, we did not risk going closer; nor would I have risked standing even at that distance if we had been outside of the Park boundary.

One day I saw a bear who appeared to be suffering from a headache. A short time before he had eaten an enormous quantity of garbage. This may have been his first dinner at a garbage-pile. Standing up, he felt of his head with first one fore paw and then the other. Then, lying down, he endeavored to hold his head in both fore paws. He had just thrust it into a stream and was trying to rub it with his paw when I last saw him. On another occasion I noticed a bear suffering from a toothache. He felt of his tooth, clawed at it, and in a number of other ways showed his annoyance.

In the Yellowstone the environment of grizzlies was radically changed when it became a wild-life reservation. The numerous bear-population quickly discovered that in the Park it would not be shot at. Grizzlies at once wandered about near people with no attempt to conceal themselves and with the best of manners; there was no annoying of people, no crossness, no ferocity. This ideal association of people and grizzly bears went on unmarred for years.

Numbers of bears from far outside Park boundaries came to spend two or three months of each summer there, returning to home territory during the autumn. Other grizzlies left their homes outside the Park and moved in to stay. Whether the summer migrant bears or the recent residents came to the Park because of the food, the safety, or both is difficult to say. Unusual opportunities were furnished Park visitors to study and observe the grizzly, with beneficial influence on themselves. But their worrying of the bears in time proved harmful.