A glorified comet
The sloth bear is the common black bear of Central and Southern India. It extends to the base of the Himalayas, but does not ascend them, its northern limit being about 31° N. Lat. Its long flexible snout and long claws distinguish it at once from its Himalayan cousin, and though it delights in a temperature more suggestive of the necessity of punkahs and ice than of greatcoats, its fur is longer and better. In spite of its long claws it climbs well, and as, like deer and natives, it delights in the nasty-tasting flowers of the ‘mhowa’ tree, a moonlight stroll in March or April, when the blossoms are falling, will often afford the chance of a shot. The best way of hunting these bears is to have them marked down in the early morning like U. torquatus, and then either to stalk or have them driven. Should the bears go into caves, they are easily dislodged by poking sticks or rolling stones through fissures above, or if the cave is shallow a bundle of rags or a turban dangled over the entrance and a few shouts will fetch them out. A firework thrown into or a shot fired down the mouth of the cave is a very effectual summons. Though U. labiatus is both willing and able to do a good deal of mischief, if due precautions are taken few branches of sport afford such a succession of ludicrous episodes. Poor old ‘Adam zad,’ if he is not witty himself, is a fund of merriment to others. Forsyth’s and Sanderson’s books teem with comical situations. The companionship of a fellow-sportsman whose shooting can be relied upon is necessary if full enjoyment of the sport is desired, as tricks may then be played which would be a little too risky to attempt single-handed. Native fireworks, ‘Anar,’ are rather dangerous to use, as they are apt to explode in the hand. Never will the writer forget seeing a lot go off in a howdah during a tiger beat: the poor old elephant went streaking across country like a glorified comet. Two guns are ample for following up a wounded bear on foot in jungle; if there are more the party is apt to get separated, and then, if the bear shows sport, there are too many bullets flying about to be pleasant. Natives, except perhaps one tracker, are only encumbrances. The way a cub will ride on its mother’s back and keep its seat under the most trying circumstances is marvellous. The writer once rolled an old bear clean over without the cub letting go. Sterndale quotes a capital story about this. Rusty coloured bears are not uncommon: the writer saw two in Central India, but as in each case the bear passed under his tree before the tiger in the beat had been fired at, he had to spare them. Bears may occasionally be ridden down and speared, but they are not often found on ground that will admit of this, and the way they ‘sling their chat’ will prevent most horses from going up to them. This bear does not hibernate.
Colonel Howard gives the following account of his experiences in Central India in 1884:
L. and I were at Lulliapoora tying up for a tiger, and hearing of some bears’ caves about two miles off, we rode out to look at them. On arrival at the ground we dismounted and strolled along, accompanied by a couple of villagers. Whenever we found a cave we rolled rocks down into it to see whether it was occupied or not, and having gone on in this way for some time without result, the natives began to get careless and went ahead of us. Presently we heard some growls and saw our Aryan brethren scuttling up trees. L. and I ran forward and found a large crevice in the rocky ground about four feet wide, eight or ten yards long, and from fifteen to eighteen feet deep; at either end of this caves seemed to run into the ground, and in the centre was a ragged archway that formed a staircase for the bears to climb in and out. Standing astride of the crevice I saw a bear’s head appear at the entrance of one of the caves, and as L. was new to the work, I signalled to him to come and shoot, while I stood a foot or two back from the edge, ready for whatever might turn up. The bear, noticing L., turned, and, on receiving a bullet in his seat of honour, ran along the bottom of the crevice to the opposite cave, acknowledging the second barrel with that peculiarly plaintive moan which a bear so often gives when he has received his death wound. L. then jumped aside, saying, ‘Look out’; a second bear’s head and shoulders appeared just above the crevice. I fired into her ear at about a yard’s distance, and she rolled back to the bottom dead. Tying the ponies’ leading ropes together I climbed down, put a noose round the bear’s neck, and steadied her while the others hauled her out.
I now told L. that I was perfectly certain that his bear was dead too, and that I would go down and see. I did not fancy going down the archway, as that seemed to be the bears’ regular run, so looked about for another entrance, and soon found one which seemed to lead almost perpendicularly down into the back of the cave. After removing a stone or two at the top in the vain hope of being able to see without actually going down, I started on my journey. As it was pitch dark and I had to use both hands in climbing down, I left my rifle behind, intending to run and not fight if I got into a scrape.
On reaching the bottom, I found myself on an underground continuation of the crevice. On one side was a stone about a couple of feet high on which I stood, and as my eyes got accustomed to the darkness, I made out an overhanging rock just in front of me, and protruding from beneath it, at my feet, a mass of hair.
I did not like to put my hand on it, so climbed up again, borrowed a stick from one of the natives, then jogged down again, and jammed the end of the stick into the bear. To my horror he jumped up with a growl, but luckily, being just as frightened as I was, he bolted further up the cave, while I legged it up my hole at about the best pace on record.
I then sent back to camp for a lantern, and with it in my hand and my short single rifle slung across my back, journeyed down for the third time, after posting L. at the top of the crevice, warning him to let any bear that might turn up come well out into the open before he fired, and on no account to let a wounded one come back into the cave on me.
Arrived at the bottom, I placed the lantern on the ground, unslung the rifle, and stepped on to the stones. There, just sticking out from under the overhanging rock, was undoubtedly the back of a bear, so I let drive into it. The smoke completely concealed everything, then there was a prolonged growl, afterwards a succession of short grunts, my lantern was put out and sent flying by a bear who charged it, brushing past me, probably with the idea that the lantern was the assailant. I scuttled up the hole, and L., who, in the excitement of the moment had forgotten my warning, fired at the bear and rolled him back down into the crevice before I got out.