Our travellers descended once more to the plains of Hindostan, and crossed the peninsula by dak to Bombay. From Bombay they sailed through the Indian Ocean, and up the Persian Gulf to the port of Bussora, on the Euphrates. Ascending the Tigris branch of this Asiatic river, they reached the famed city of Bagdad. They were now en route for the haunts of the Syrian bear among the snowy summits of Mount Lebanon. With a Turkish caravan, therefore, they started from Bagdad; and after much toil and many hardships, arrived in the city of Damascus—the scene of so many troubles and massacres caused by the fanaticism of a false religion.
With these questions our travellers had nothing to do; nor did they stay any length of time within the walls of the unhappy city. Soon after their arrival in the place, they obtained all the information they required of the whereabouts of the Syrian bear; and their steps were now directed towards the snowy summits of Libanus—better known to Christians by its Scriptural name of Mount Lebanon.
In these mountains the Syrian bear (ursus syriacus) is found; and it is only a few years since the animal was discovered there. Every naturalist had doubted the existence of bears in any part of Syria—as they now deny that there are any in Africa. Those who acknowledge it, are inclined to regard the Syrian bear as a mere variety of the ursus arctos; but this theory is altogether incorrect. In shape, colour, and many of his habits, the Syrian bear differs essentially from his brown congener; and his dwelling-place—instead of being in forest-covered tracts—is more generally in open ground or among rocks. In fact, his range upon the Syrian mountains is very similar to that of the “snow bear” on the Himalayas—near the line of perpetual snow.
The colour of the ursus syriacus is a light ash or fulvous brown, often—with a hoary or silvery tinge—but the colour varies at times to lighter and deeper shades. The hair lies close against the skin—in this respect differing from most of the species, in which the fur stands erect or perpendicular to the outlines of the body. This gives the Syrian bear the appearance of being a thinner and smaller animal, than many bears of upright fur that are no bigger than he.
By one characteristic mark he may be easily identified; and that is, by his having an erect ridge of fur running from his neck along the spine of his back, and looking not unlike the mane of a donkey. But, indeed, the Syrian bear may be easily distinguished from any other member of this family; and to regard him as a mere variety of the ursus arctos, is only going back to the old system that considers all the bears as one and the same species.
The Syrian bear does not inhabit the whole range of the mountains that pass under the general name of Lebanon. Only on the loftier summits is he found—particularly on that known as Mount Makmel. This summit is covered with snow; and it is under the snow-line he usually makes his haunt. Sometimes, however, he descends to a lower elevation; and in the village gardens—just as does the snow bear in the Himalayas—he makes sad havoc among fruits and vegetables. He will also kill sheep, goats, and even larger animals, that come in his way; and when provoked will attack the hunter without fear. He is most dreaded in the night: for it is during the darkness he generally makes his plundering expeditions. Both shepherds and hunters have been killed by him—proving that he still retains the savage character given to him in the Scriptures; where several of his kind—she-bears they were—are represented as having torn “forty and two of the mockers of Elisha.”
He appears to have been equally characterised by a ferocity of disposition in the crusading ages—since it is related that the great leader Godfrey slew one of these bears, whom he found assaulting a poor woodcutter of Antioch; and the affair was considered a feat of great prowess, by those eccentric champions of the Cross.
That the Syrian bear is still as ferocious and savage, as he ever could have been, our hunters proved by their own experience: for although they did not get into the power of one, they would certainly have done so—some one of them at least—had they not been fortunate enough to kill the bear before he could lay his claws upon them. But we shall briefly describe the adventure; which was the last our hunters were engaged in—at least, the last we find recorded in the journal of Alexis.
Bischerre, a little mountain village, situated near the snow-line on Mount Makmel, had become their temporary headquarters. Its neighbourhood was celebrated for the great number of bears that frequent it. These animals descending from the higher ridges surrounding it, frequently enter the gardens of the villagers, and rob them of their vegetables and chick peas (cicer arietinus)—the latter being a favourite food of the Syrian bear.
From Bischerre the hunters extended their excursions on foot: since the nature of the ground would not admit of their using horses; and they had succeeded in getting several good “bear-chases,” and in killing a brace of these animals. Both, however, were very young ones—cubs, in fact—and their skins would not do. A better specimen must be procured.