Wild Animals at Home Part 19

[Ill.u.s.tration: XLIII. The shyer ones take to a tree, if one comes too near _Photo by E. T. Seton_]

[Ill.u.s.tration: 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 s.h.a.ggy 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.

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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.

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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 la.s.so 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 la.s.so 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 la.s.so 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.

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Another of these big, spoiled babies was sent to Was.h.i.+ngton 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 gla.s.s 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 gla.s.sful, 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.

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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 gla.s.s 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 a.s.sociates 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 s.p.a.ce 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 s.h.i.+ny 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 la.s.soes 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.

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[Ill.u.s.tration: XLV. The Bears at feeding time _Photos by F. Jay Haynes_]

[Ill.u.s.tration: 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 a.s.sistance 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 virginia.n.u.s macrourus_) A few found about Gardiner, on Willow Creek, on Indian Creek, at Creva.s.se Mt. and in Cottonwood Basin. The official census gives their number at 100.

Moose (_Alces america.n.u.s_) 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.