The Englishman and The "Grizzly"
A Bear Story With a Stinger
By C. H. FRENCH
Leaving Wrangell, Alaska, for Telegraph Creek, British Columbia, in the spring of 1914, I overtook an Englishman who intended to spend the summer in the interior of British Columbia, and after enjoying a big game hunt in the fall would return to civilization.
Before we had got far up the river, night overtook us, making it necessary for the "gas" boat on which we were travelling to tie up for the night. The beach on which we landed was a sandy one that would permit of walking along the shore for some distance; so my friend, the Englishman, started out to stretch his legs.
Not far up the beach there commenced a large piece of low, swampy country and just before coming to it my friend caught a glimpse of what he thought was a large grizzly bear going speedily through the bush. Wasn't the Englishman excited! A few well-directed spider-like movements landed him back on the launch. After his struggle for breath was over we learned the exciting news. We agreed that our friend should be allowed to do all the execution, while we kept in the background in order to help out should the brute attack.
Guns were made ready and a stealthy advance was commenced. At length the rifle of our friend went to his shoulder and bang! In a moment the monster was dead.
By this time it was quite dark, so we made haste and prepared to drag the game to the launch to be skinned. Finally, after tugging and working with all our strength, with perspiration pouring off our foreheads, we concluded the carcass was too heavy to be handled by only six ordinary men.
A suggestion was then made to run a line from the boat and attach it to the hand capstan and haul him along in that way. This scheme was tried and after working hard (putting more grease on the gears every ten minutes) our enthusiasm began to wane and before another half hour had passed it was decided to leave the monster where it was until daylight, when it would be skinned where it lay.
We were up bright and early the next morning and while breakfast was being prepared the hunting and skinning knives were ground and sharpened to a fine edge and fit to cut the toughest hide or even to shave with.
Breakfast was finished and we trooped off to where lay the king of the forest (especially the low-lying swampy fringed forest) and after coats were thrown off and sleeves rolled up to above the elbows the operation of skinning was ready to commence.
Our friend the Englishman was naturally anxious that the job be a neat one, as he certainly was anxious to have that hide mounted, especially on account of its large size and its being the first specimen of big game killed by him in Cassiar, and he suggested that we wait a few minutes longer until it was full daylight.