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 class 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 attitude, 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?”